Her Christmas Lumberjack (Crave County: Lumberjacks Love Curves)

5. Aurora

5

AURORA

I sit cross-legged in front of the fire, stroking Rudolph’s fur as the scent of pot roast drifts toward us. It’s pitch black outside, but we can still hear the blizzard even if we can’t see it. There’s something cozy about listening to the roaring storm from the comfort of Nolan’s cabin, protected from the weather outside. His home is like something out of a movie—wooden beams, warm rugs, rustic furniture. It’s even prettier than the mountain cabin where my parents are spending Christmas.

But I shouldn’t be here.

This was never supposed to happen.

I hear Nolan clattering around in the kitchen, plating up our food, and I draw my knees up to my chest, closing my eyes tight. When I came here, I intended to continue the interview from yesterday. But when Nolan started talking about his family and the farm, what it meant to all of them…I couldn’t do it. I was going to turn around and leave. Liz’s disappointment, Samuel’s complaints; anything would be better than having to lie to Nolan’s face for another second.

But I left it too late.

And I definitely didn’t count on a blizzard trapping me with him overnight.

Now I’m stuck in this beautiful cabin with a gorgeous lumberjack who has no idea that I’ve been lying to him about everything.

“I’ve made such a mess of things, Rudolph,” I murmur, listening to his gentle breathing as he sleeps.

A thought hits me, and my hand stills on his side.

The land Samuel is disputing…does it include Nolan’s cabin?

His brother’s cabin, too?

Before I came to Cherry Hollow, I didn’t know the brothers’ cabins were on the same plot of land as the farm. Now the realization punches me in the chest.

Could the Thorne brothers lose their homes as well as their business?

The thought makes me nauseous. I know the law can be cruel, but that would be too much. It would devastate Nolan and his family, and not for the first time, I pray Samuel Thorne’s claim falls apart. I pray I can find something, anything, to prove that our client doesn’t have a legal leg to stand on.

“Dinner’s ready,” Nolan says, his deep voice startling me. I was so lost in thought I didn’t see him come in. He sets the pot roast on the table along with crusty garlic bread and a big bowl of mashed potatoes. It smells delicious, and I push myself up off the floor, sitting at the table.

“Thank you, Nolan. This looks amazing.”

“Don’t mention it.” He sits opposite me. “I saved some of the cooked beef for Rudolph. He’ll probably want more food when he wakes up.”

“Good idea.”

The thoughtful gesture makes my throat tighten.

Why does this man have to be so darn sweet?

“I almost forgot,” he says, standing up again and heading into the kitchen. He comes back holding a bottle of wine and two glasses. “You like mulled wine?”

“Love it.”

I smile at him as he pours me a glass, his piercing blue eyes meeting mine for a moment, lingering a second too long. My heart stutters, and I almost drop my wine as I take a deep sip, the spicy sweetness lingering on my tongue.

Nolan’s long legs take up a lot of space beneath the table, and they brush against mine, the contact making me shiver. I shouldn’t be feeling this way about him. Not when I’ve lied to his face since the moment we met. But I can’t stop the desire buzzing through my veins, mixing with the warmth of alcohol until I’m heady.

The meal is delicious: the pot roast tender, the potatoes buttery. The wine relaxes me, and for a little while, I let myself forget about Liz and my job. I stop thinking about how much Nolan would hate me if he knew the truth.

“You sure know how to cook,” I say, taking another appreciative bite.

He smiles at me, lips tugging slightly beneath his beard. “Mom taught me everything I know. Said it was the most important thing I’d ever learn.”

“Well, she did a good job.” I smile at him.

“Can you cook?”

“Me?” I snort. “I could burn ice cream.”

“I bet you’re not that bad.”

“Wanna bet? One time I tried to make an omelet and set the kitchen on fire. They had to evacuate the building.”

Nolan laughs, a deep throaty sound that makes my stomach do a backflip. “Damn. Well, hey, at least you tried.” He toasts me, raising his glass before taking a sip of wine. There’s a twinkle in his eye, and as we keep talking, a familiar heat pulses between my legs. He’s so unbearably handsome. Those burly shoulders seem to take up half the table, and when he smiles beneath that bushy beard, it goes straight to my heart.

I want him.

Badly.

Images flash through my mind of Nolan leaning in, kissing me hard, those powerful arms wrapping around me, pulling me close. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to ignore the growing ache, but it’s no good. When Nolan stands up to clear our plates, the sight of his flannel shirt straining against those thick muscles is enough to make me stifle a moan.

God, I’m really losing it.

I’d love to blame it on the wine, but my desires have been bubbling under the surface ever since I met Nolan yesterday. And with every second that passes, it’s getting harder to push them down.

“Hope you’re still hungry,” Nolan says as he brings out a large cherry pie for dessert. “Bought this from Buttercup Bakery yesterday morning. Best cherry pie you’ll ever eat.”

He cuts us each a generous slice, topping both with a scoop of ice cream. It’s the best dessert I’ve ever tasted—sweet, flaky, and so freakin’ good.

“You’re spoiling me,” I tell him. “If I were at home right now, I’d be eating frozen pizza.”

He looks at me. “Where is home, exactly?”

“Denver.” The word spills out before I can stop it.

“You live in the city? I thought you were writing for a local paper?” Nolan frowns. “Which paper did you say it was?”

I take my time swallowing another mouthful of pie, my cheeks heating beneath his gaze. “The Crave County Gazette. I live in Denver, but work takes me all over the place…interviewing people…”

Thank God I googled local papers last night.

My voice tapers off, but Nolan nods, satisfied with my explanation. “Hope your boss won’t be mad at you for not finishing the article. It’s not your fault you got snowed in here with me.”

I don’t trust myself to speak. Instead, I take another bite of pie, but I’ve lost my appetite, and it tastes like glue in my mouth. It was crazy to think I could ignore my lies and enjoy an evening with Nolan. It’s too late for that. The hole I’ve dug for myself is way too deep, and all I can do is wait until the snow clears. Then I’ll head back to Denver with my tail between my legs. I’ll lie to Liz and tell her Nolan wouldn’t tell me anything. Her disappointment will be a small price to pay. It won’t save Nolan or his brother—Liz is a fantastic lawyer, and if Samuel really does own the land, she’ll make damn sure he gets it. I might not like it, but it’s out of my hands.

“Thank you for dinner,” I say, trying to keep the shakiness from my voice. “It was wonderful.”

I try to help Nolan clear up, but he insists I stay seated. He takes everything back to the kitchen, then brings out a plate of beef for Rudolph, who is awake and sniffing at the air expectantly. Nolan strokes him affectionately, telling him he’s a good boy, and I think my heart might break if I watch him a second longer.

“I’m really tired,” I say. “That wine went straight to my head.”

It’s barely eight, but Nolan doesn’t comment on the time. “No problem. Let me make up the guest room for you.”

“I don’t want to be any trouble…”

“Aurora, it’s no trouble.” He straightens up, towering over me like a giant and looking at me with more warmth than the fire blazing behind him. “I like having you here, okay? You don’t need to feel guilty for being here.”

If I was braver, I’d kiss him. Heck, if I was braver, I’d tell him the truth right now. But I don’t do either of those things. Instead, I thank him weakly. If he knew the real reason behind my guilt, I don’t think he’d be looking at me like this. But it still makes my heart melt—the tenderness, the care in his expression.

I wish it had all happened differently.

I wish I really was just a local journalist writing a story about Christmas.

Once Nolan is done sprucing up the guest room, he calls to me, and I grab my bag before heading through a spacious wooden hallway with a few doors on either side. He’s standing in front of the last one, which is open to reveal a cozy bedroom with a four-poster bed and its own little fireplace crackling with warmth.

“There’s a bathroom through there,” he says, pointing, “and my room’s just next door if you need anything in the night.”

His words hang in the air between us. I doubt he meant them to sound so suggestive, but despite everything, a shiver of longing runs down my spine.

“Thanks, Nolan.” I take a step into the bedroom. “It’s perfect.”

He disappears into his own room, and I hear him rooting around in the closet before he comes back, holding a huge t-shirt. “You can sleep in this if you want. Will be too big for you, but it’s clean.”

I thank him, resisting the urge to bring the fabric to my nose and take a deep sniff. The luggage I brought when I left Denver is still in my car, filled with extra clothes and pajamas. But there’s no way I’m going to tell Nolan that; he’d stride right out into the blizzard to get it for me. The small bag I brought inside for the interview contains nothing but the documents Liz gave me and a few snacks left over from my journey to Cherry Hollow, and I set it down in the corner before sitting on the bed.

There’s a pause as Nolan lingers in the doorway. I can feel his eyes burning into me, and my heart thuds, beating in my ears until he finally says, “Well, goodnight, Aurora.”

“Goodnight, Nolan. And thank you for everything.”

I smile at him and he nods before closing the door. Only when I hear his footsteps disappearing back down the hallway do I finally collapse on the bed with a sigh, reaching for my phone. I tap out a quick text to Liz.

Hi Liz, I’m snowed in at Nolan Thorne’s cabin…

Might be out here a while

Then I look at some photos my parents have sent me from their trip. Their beaming faces make me smile, but Liz’s reply wipes it off my face immediately.

This could be a blessing in disguise. It will be easier to gain his trust.

Progress is already being made at this end.

Keep going.

I shut off my phone and pull on Nolan’s t-shirt, curling up beneath the covers. It smells like him—fresh and woodsy—but it doesn’t stop the unease that swirls in my gut. Liz’s text makes it sound like Samuel’s case is going well, and I groan against the pillow. When I finally fall into a troubled sleep, I dream of Nolan, his face contorted in anger, his voice broken as he shouts words I can’t quite make out.