All I Want for Christmas (Holiday Belles) by Poppy Parkes

Author:Poppy Parkes [Parkes, Poppy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B095XK6Z9Q
Goodreads: 59637766
Publisher: #PrB.rating#4.31
Published: 2021-12-01T00:00:00+00:00

Cookie

When I head home after spending the afternoon and the better part of the evening with Graham, I’m not walking.

I’m floating on air.

I’d just meant to stop by his place and drop off the cookies. But it felt so right — so good — to accept his invitation in.

The mountain man turned out to be so easy to talk to. He told me about his childhood here in Heartwood. I told him about growing up in New Jersey, and what it was like to be on television.

I even told him about my stalker situation, and how it led me to come here.

His mouth had tightened at that, brow furrowing.

God, it was hot.

“Do you need any help?” he’d said. “I’m a lawyer. Maybe I can assist if things escalate.”

I’d shivered at the word escalate, but shook my head. I’d solved the whole thing by moving to Heartwood, I’d told him.

I didn’t say that thinking about my stalkers bothers me less now that I have this gorgeous bearded mountain man to distract me.

But Graham isn’t just easy on the eyes. He’s also thoughtful, well-spoken, and so easy to be around.

I feel like my insides are filled with heated honey by the time I make my way back home — on my own this time, thank you very much. Graham offered to walk me back, but a girl’s got her pride.

I do let him lend me his flashlight, even though it’s not quite dark enough to need it. Mostly so I have an excuse to go back to his place to return it.

When I get back to my cabin, I’m all ready to swoon onto my bead and fantasize about Graham.

But I’m pulled up short by an envelope waiting on my doorstep.

A manila envelope.

Heart falling into my belly like a stone, I lift the envelope with trembling hands.

I read my name scrawled across the yellow paper in rough lettering.

There’s no address, either mine or a return.

But in the snow spread before my cabin, there are footprints and tire tracks with a tread I don’t recognize.

My blood is ice in my veins. My breath is a hiss. I stand frozen before my cabin, heart racing, feeling so damn exposed.

My stalker’s not only found me.

They’ve been here.

Maybe they are still here.

I scan the area. I don’t see anyone or anything out of place.

But that doesn’t mean someone isn’t there.

The forest is deep. I’m not used to navigating this kind of terrain. Anything could be hidden further in those trees.

Watching me.

Waiting.

A sob of fear bursts from my throat. The sound feels too loud in the quiet forest air.

A loud crack reverberates from somewhere in the trees.

It’s probably just an animal. Or a weak tree branch giving way to the load of snow on it.

But it could also be a stalker, coming for me.

Before I even realize I’m moving, I’m running back the way I came, feet churning up the snow. It feels like running through sand — too slow, far too slow.

I can’t hear anything over

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