Chapter 4
Hallie
The spirited notes of the holiday song “Sleigh Ride” reverberate through the house as my nephew hops to the beat holding a Spiderman ornament.
“Does here look good, Aunt Hallie?”
“Sure does, bud.”
I’m sitting on the couch, sipping a cup of hot cocoa, watching my niece and nephew place the last few ornaments on my Christmas tree.
It’s become a tradition the day after Thanksgiving for me to watch the kids while my brother and sister-in-law go catch all the best deals that they can.
Sure, they could order gifts online, but I think they like the rush of fighting holiday crowds.
Not that I mind. I want to spend as much time with my niece and nephew as I can.
At six and eight, they are just about the cutest kids planet Earth has ever seen.
Harrison takes after my brother. Well, both of them do, actually.
He has the same strawberry hair that I do, cut short on the sides with a floppy top.
Lorelei’s hair has more red in it, and she has the most beautiful peachy skin.
Not a freckle in sight, unlike the light smattering across my nose and cheeks.
My nephew got his mom’s darker skin. A lady-killer, that one.
My front door bursts open, and in walks a freshly showered Brooke, her damp brown hair up in a messy bun, her old college sweats looking super comfy.
“Aunt Brooke!” the kids practically squeal. They spend almost as much time with her as they do with me, hence the aunt moniker.
“The tree looks great, you guys! I made some Rice Krispies Treats for you. We’ll go grab them in a few minutes.”
“Woo-hoo!” The kids high-five each other and break out the new Christmas puzzle on my kitchen table.
After settling in with her own cup of cocoa, Brooke catches me up on all things. One of their mares produced an AQHA World Champion, so she’s super excited about that. I share that my cake for the Weatherford wedding brought in several new customers from the Austin area, so that’s promising.
“Oh, and we now have twenty-one bachelors signed up for the auction this year!” I’m also a member of the Magnolia League, but I’m not on the auction committee.
This time of year is too busy for me. I don’t even participate in the community theater Christmas production. I make it up with the spring show.
As she prattles on about the committee’s plans for decorating the community center, I picture Colt in a tuxedo, his blond hair slightly tousled, his muscular frame somehow more impressive in formal wear, and my senses buzz. My old crush is mingling with a new attraction that I can’t seem to shake.
I’ve dated enough to figure out what doesn’t work for me in a relationship.
Like guys who’d rather scroll through their phones than have an actual conversation, the kind who’ll eventually ignore their own children at dinner to check sports stats.
Or men looking for a live-in maid instead of a partner.
The biggest deal-breaker for me, though?
Someone who thinks my community theater work is just a cute hobby.
Simple stuff, really, but finding a guy who checks these basic boxes is harder than I thought.
Brooke’s cell phone buzzes. “Ready for the rice treats, kiddos?”
“Yeah!”
The four of us head next door to indulge in tree-shaped goodies.
Even though our duplexes are mirror images of each other, our styles couldn’t be more different.
Brooke’s taste is modern farmhouse with clean white and bright minimalist wooden accents.
Me, on the other hand? I’m more the eclectic vibe with jewel tones, lots of plants, and posters of my favorite films scattered throughout each room. It’s my sanctuary.
The kids are sitting on kitchen stools, enjoying their second marshmallow treats, when a loud, firm knock hits the front door before swinging open.
“Hey, sis. Here’s the circular saw.” I’d know that husky voice anywhere.
Colt Sawyer.
He steps into Brooke’s home, a backwards baseball cap perched on his head, his blonde hair peeking out from underneath. Tight Wranglers fit his body just right, hugging his thigh muscles like they never want to let go. Even his worn cowboy boots look made for him.
Surprise crosses his features at seeing me and the kids. “Hi, Hallie.”
“Hi, Colt.” My stomach does that stupid flip it’s been doing since yesterday. Great timing, body. Nothing says ‘I’m a responsible aunt’ like ogling your best friend’s brother in front of children.
“Who are you?” my nephew asks. Harrison is very inquisitive, if not a little protective.
Heat crawls up my neck as I watch Colt crouch down to Harrison’s level, all easy charm and patience. “I’m Brooke’s brother. Who are you?”
“Harrison East Emory.” He goes back to eating because any friend of Brooke’s is a friend of his.
“This is my niece, Lorelei. You just met Harrison.” Lorelai waves shyly. I adjust my holiday t-shirt, doing my best to pretend I’m not lusting after Colt Sawyer in front of my niece and nephew. “What’s the circular saw for?”
“Thanks, brother dear.” Brooke motions to the stairs. “I’m replacing the existing boards, remember?”
Brooke is a DIY addict. Her house is a constant project.
But this smells like a setup. She wouldn’t start the stairs in the middle of the bachelor auction and with Christmas weeks away.
So, I give her the I know what you’re up to, Bestie stare, and she turns, pretending interest in something the kids are saying.
Colt’s gaze flicks to me, then to Brooke, then back to me. One corner of his mouth quirks up—he knows exactly what his sister is doing. The knowing look in his eyes makes my face burn.
Ugh.
Then she takes the kids back to my house, leaving me alone with her brother.
The door shuts with a click, the two of us standing at her kitchen island.
Colt leans against the quartz countertop, looking all masculine and yummy.
“Thank you for the treats today, Hallie. Maisie gobbled them up and finally quit ignoring me. Her attitude has been awful with the babies on the way.”
“Babies?” My eyes widen in shock. “She’s having two?”
“Yep, turns out she’s having twins. I’ve got to keep a really close eye on her, make sure everything’s good. So I appreciate you not letting me leave without the treats.”
“Oh, I would have driven them over.”
“Well, if I hadn’t been such an ass, you wouldn’t have had to.”
The sincerity in his voice catches me off guard. I should say something gracious, something that lets him off the hook. Instead, I just stand there, hyper-aware of how close he is, how his eyes haven’t left mine.
“Hmm.”
His mouth curves into a half-smile that makes my pulse stutter, his square jaw handsome with a dusting of scruff. The kitchen suddenly feels smaller. Warmer.
“You gonna make me grovel?” His voice drops lower, almost teasing, but there’s something raw and masculine underneath it that scatters my thoughts.
For a second, maybe two, neither of us looks away.
“I should go,” Colt says, but he doesn’t move immediately. Then I do something that nightmares are made of. My foot snags the corner of the throw rug, sending me wobbling straight into my high school crush’s arms.
He catches my fall, our faces inches apart. “Oh, Hallie.”
He leans in for the lightest of kisses, feather-soft. His scent, leather, pine, and an essence purely him wraps around me, and for a second, I forget to breathe. It’s barely a kiss, but it blooms in my chest, sweet and startling.
As quickly as it starts, Colt pulls away, his fingers brushing his mouth, his eyes hooded, then tips his chin toward the door.
As we both head outside, Brooke catches my eye with a smirk. “Thanks for bringing the saw, brother dear.”