Page 4 of Christmas in Eden

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“Devoting your life to helping people is a commendable endeavor. I’m sure your father would be proud.”

She shrugs. This is the second time she’s gotten that strained look on her face after I mentioned Dan.

Petra stirs. Eden turns to her mother.

“Do you need something, Mom?”

Petra smiles sleepily.

“Oh no, sweetie. I’m all right.” She presses a kiss to Eden’s forehead, then whispers something to her in Polish. Eden responds in turn.

Now that the jet is stable, the two women settle into their seats, with Eden’s head resting on Petra’s shoulder. It’s such an intimate moment, that I almost look away. But I can’t seem to tear my gaze from Eden’s face. The sunlight dances through the window, reflecting in the blue of her eyes and shimmering across her cheek.

My chest grows tight, and a curious notion strikes me. Even penniless and stricken with grief, they understand what matters most in this world: their love for each other.

CHAPTER 2

EDEN

I try to sleep as much as I can on the flight down to St. Thomas. It’s the only way I can forget the fact that I’m hurtling through the sky in a metal cylinder.

Christian hires a car—something sleek and fancy with an emblem that I don’t recognize—to drive us from the airport to the resort. After unpacking and getting settled in our rooms, we meet Christian and Brittany in the dining room of one of the resort’s Michelin-starred restaurants. I wasn’t sure if Mom would be up for dinner after the long flight, but when I suggested we order room service instead of having dinner with Christian and Brittany, she insisted she was looking forward to sitting down to a nice meal.

Though Thanksgiving is only a few days away, the restaurant as well as the resort’s common areas have been decorated with Christmas-themed décor. Seated at the immaculately set table, I try not to gawk at the prices as I scan the menu. Everything from the two-hundred-dollar plate of caviar to the fifty-dollar cocktails reminds me that I’m not in Kansas—or in my case, Peoria, Illinois—anymore. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that the chandeliers were made of solid gold.

I can’t imagine I’ll ever get used to this level of extravagance. While my family’s financial situation did improve over the years, there were quite a few Christmases when I was younger when Santa “forgot” to visit our house. I’ll never forget eating ketchup sandwiches for dinner.

“Is your room to your liking?” Christian asks, pulling me from my thoughts. I meet his gaze over the top of my menu.

God, he’s ridiculously handsome. Every time I glance his way, I have to remind myself that he’s more than twice my age and engaged to my mom.

“Yes,” I tell him. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

“Eden and I haven’t been to the beach in ages,” my mom says. “I’ve missed the smell of the ocean.”

“My room’s smaller than the one I had last year,” Brittany grumbles, eyes still glued to her phone. She hasn’t said a word to me or my mom since I tried talking to her on the jet.

As an only child, I’ll admit, I was excited at the thought of having a sister. At the very least, I thought it would be nice to be on this trip with another girl around my age. I didn’t expect us to become best friends overnight. I guess it was too much to hope that she’d be…you know, friendly.

At least Christian seems nice. We talked in between my naps on the plane. About my interest in medicine and his real estate business. I won’t claim to understand much about his job, but I kept him talking long past my comprehension just so I could listen to his deep, masculine voice. His dark brown eyes seem to pierce through me whenever he looks my way, like he’s seeing into the deepest parts of my soul.

“I thought Petra and Eden could use the extra space,” he says.

For once, Brittany looks up from her phone, and she does not look happy.

“What the hell, Dad?”

“Language, Brittany.” Christian runs a hand down his trimmed salt-and-pepper beard. “With an attitude like that, you’re lucky you’re still in a suite.”

She glares at my mom and me. “Whatever.”

Our server arrives to take our orders, breaking the awkward silence. I avoid Brittany’s scowl through several courses, focusing instead on the delicious food and interesting conversation with her dad.

When Brittany speaks again, it’s to announce, “Thank God, Allison and Stephanie are finally here.” As she tucks her phone into her purse, her lips curve into a wide grin that isn’t altogether unpleasant—for a cartoon villain. “I’m gonna go meet up with them. Bye, Dad.”

Before Christian can put his fork down, Brittany is scampering out of the restaurant. He lifts his hand like he’s going to call after her and then lets it drop with a sigh.


Tags: Margot Scott Romance