Eggnog and the Engineer

By Elsie James

He left his hometown in search of bigger and better without looking back. She knows that small-town life on the ranch is as good as it gets. When successful engineer Xavier loses everything, he heads home for the holidays in search of meaning but what he finds is… Erica.

Eggnog and the Engineer is a steamy and sweet, holiday, second chance, instalove story.

Erica
Eggnog Ranch is home for me. I spend my days managing the guest cottages and I wouldn't want it any other way. I know there aren't too many people my age who see things the way I do. Most of them are off chasing big dreams and bigger dollars. I'll never be rich, but I have more than enough of the things that matter. Especially at Christmas time, this place is all family, friends, and traditions.
But when the one who got away gets stranded at the ranch, it feels like a Christmas miracle.
Xavier is sexy, smart, and I want to unwrap his present.
But can I make him see that life on the ranch has value that can't be measured by a credit score?

Xavier
Growing up as the only son of a successful banker came with a lot of pressure. I couldn't wait to leave town and secure my position with one of the top engineering firms in the nation. My life looks exactly like I designed it to, but it feels shallow in a way I never imagined. A staffing change at work turns everything upside down and I decide to head home for holidays for the first time in a long time. But when I get there, nothing looks quite the same.
An unexpected snowfall leaves me stranded with my first love at Eggnog Ranch and she's the only thing that feels like home.
Erica is curvy, thoughtful, and I want to give her a night that's anything but silent.
But can I convince her that I'll be here long after the lights come off the tree?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elsie James
• Release date: Jan 22, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224917488

Book preview

Xavier

I squint my eyes into the black night in an effort to see through the flurry of icy snowflakes slushing onto my windshield. I’ve driven these backroads on my way to my hometown of Misty Mountain thousands of times, but this time is different.

I can’t tell if it’s the snow, the fact that it’s Christmas Eve, or the weight of the secret I have to withhold from my family for the duration of my visit, but there’s an eerie feeling that makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck.

I fumble with my phone in the cup holder to find a podcast, or an audiobook, or literally anything to occupy my mind. It seems my phone is all but useless.

Dammit, I wish they’d get some cell towers on this part of the mountain. I talk aloud to myself while a montage of the life altering events of the last two days plays in my mind.

I look down at my phone to confirm my suspicion that I’m in a dead zone and take my eyes off the road for a split second. That’s all the time it takes. In an instant, my tires lose traction and my heart rate picks up.

From there it’s a blur. I watch the scene unfold as if it isn’t happening to me. My tiny, ill-fit-for-snow sports car with low-profile tires hydroplaning on black ice, spinning out of control. My hands gripping the steering wheel so hard I think they might leave an imprint. My stomach tying itself in knots. My own headlights reflecting off a bright snowbank as I slam into a wall of white.

Then, just as quickly as it started, it’s over.

On the initial impact, all I feel is thankful. Thankful that my car spun toward the mountain and not away from it. Thankful to still be on my way home to see my mom for Christmas. I sit in the stillness for a long time considering what could have happened.

Once the shock subsides, an entirely new set of concerns wash over me brought about by the realization that no one is coming. I’m not in the city. I’m not anywhere. I’m between two worlds and out here, there won’t be any wandering traffic. Especially not at this time of night, in this weather, and on Christmas Eve.

Dammit. I slam my fists against my steering wheel.

I take a moment to get my bearings and thankfully, I know exactly where I am. For better or worse, nothing changes in Misty Mountain and I’m just outside of town. I force my car door open and climb out into the icy snow. I walk around my car and pull my suitcase out of my trunk, slinging it onto my back. I take off my slick leather loafers and pull on a pair of snow boots I packed just for this occasion.

I leave my car face first in the mountainside and force a humorless chuckle through clenched teeth when I look back at it. That car costs more than most people make in a year here, but that’s not the reason everyone who lives here drives a big truck. How quickly I’ve forgotten.

Even in the dark of night with a chill so harsh it feels like it’s biting my skin, I know that Eggnog Ranch is just up the road. The four Eggnog brothers, Shawn, Liam, Jackson, and Luke, were my best friends growing up and they’ve taken over their family’s ranch. I’d bet a fortune that they’ll have a vacancy in their guest cottage. So, I start walking.

The stars are bigger here and bright enough to illuminate the path as I crunch my way up the road. I follow the splintered, weather worn split rail fence line and sure as anything, it leads me to an open gate.

I shine the light from my cell