All I Want For Christmas Is You - Vi Keeland Page 0,38
Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author from Stirlingshire, Scotland. She’s been nominated for the Goodreads Choice Award for Best Author and Best Romance for her international bestseller On Dublin Street. On Dublin Street was Samantha’s first adult contemporary romance series and has sold in thirty countries. True Immortality is Samantha’s first adult paranormal series written under the name S. Young.
With snowflakes turning the night sky magical, I flip on the windshield wipers of my rental and smile. On a normal day, I would be cursing the snow, but today is not a normal day. It’s Christmas Eve, my favorite day of the year.
I glance at the clock on the dash, seeing it’s thirty minutes till midnight, which means I’m right on time to meet Harry. When I see the darkened tree farm come into view, excitement fills the pit of my stomach, the same way it does every year.
“Milly,” Harry, the owner of Smith Farms, greets as I hop out of the cab of the truck. “You lucked out this year. I’ve got some real beauties for you.”
“Thank you.” I lean up to kiss his weathered old cheek. “How much do I owe you?”
“Every year, I tell you the same thing, honey. I’m not letting you pay me for trees that would go to waste,” he says, and tears start to fill my eyes as he sighs, pulling me in for a hug. “Don’t start crying on me.”
“I won’t, but you really are the best.”
“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you loaded up so you can get on your way.” He lets me go, and for the next ten minutes, we fill the back of the truck with twelve beautiful trees that will make a few families’ Christmas a little more special.
Once we finish, I get back in the truck and roll down the window after I start the engine. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”
“You too, Milly.” He grins as I drive out of the lot blasting “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”
“We wish you a Merry Christmas. We wish you—” My singing ends on a squeak as the tires on the truck I rented skid. Hitting the brakes, I hold onto the steering wheel for dear life as I fishtail, and then I scream when I drive off the side of the road down into a gully.
Panting for breath when I come to a stop, my head falls forward to rest against the steering wheel then jump when I hear a loud pop.
“No, no, no, no,” I hiss when I see smoke start to hiss out of the hood. Not wanting to blow up with the truck if it does, I quickly unhook my seatbelt and push open my door. When I hop out, I groan. With the snow we’ve had the last few days, the white stuff is up past my knees, making it difficult to walk through.
After a couple of minutes, I finally make it to the side of the road, and then I freeze there when I see the truck and exactly how much damage it’s sustained. Tears fill my eyes. There is no way it’s drivable with the front right tire almost twisted sideways, and the car rental place is definitely not open. I pull in a breath then look both ways down the pitch-black road.
As I pull my knit cap farther down on my head, I then grab my cell phone out of my pocket. When I see I don’t have any service, my head falls back to my shoulders. I want to scream at the top of my lungs and cry out my frustration, but I know neither of those things are going to help me right now.
Righting my knit cap, I take my mittens out of my pocket and start to walk. If I can get phone service, I might be able to get a hold of a tow company, and if I’m really lucky, they might have a truck I can use, so I can deliver everything before the sun rises.
I thought I knew what cold was before tonight, but with the snow beating against my face and my wet hair plastered against my skin, I know I was wrong. I’m freezing, and I’ve only been walking for twenty minutes. When lights reflect on the snow around me, I turn to look over my shoulder, feeling my stomach drop. I know the black truck coming up behind me, recognizing it immediately as belonging to Tyler