Chapter 8 Big Wood #3
He pulled the coat tighter around himself, looking surprisingly vulnerable in my well-worn outerwear. “Thanks,” he said quietly.
I returned to the camera equipment, quickly dismantling the tripod and packing everything away. The sky had darkened considerably, the snow falling faster now. We needed to get back to the truck before the weather worsened any further.
“So,” Adrian said as I finished packing up. “All we need to do is drag a hundred-pound tree back to your truck through increasingly deep snow while a blizzard descends upon us?”
“That about sums it up,” I agreed, shouldering the equipment bag. “Unless you want to leave your perfect tree behind?”
“Never,” he declared with such conviction I had to smile. “But… I don’t suppose you have a tree stand at your store?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Of course we do. It’s a hardware store, for god’s sake. We actually sell Emerson trees there, too.”
“Good.” He hesitated, looking uncharacteristically uncertain. “Because I just realized I have no way to set this up in my cabin, and I… kind of really want to. Will you help me?”
The request hung in the air between us, carrying more weight than its simple words suggested. Going to his cabin. Extending our time together. Continuing whatever had almost happened in the snow.
Every instinct told me to refuse. To maintain boundaries. To remember that in less than three weeks, Adrian Hayes would be gone, back to his perfectly curated life in LA, while I remained in Legacy with my responsibilities and reality.
But as I looked at him standing there in my coat, snow and sweat turning the edges of his hair dark, I found myself nodding. “Okay.”
What the fuck was I thinking? There was a storm coming, and if I went to Adrian’s cabin, I’d end up spending the night there. That was not acceptable. Everyone had seen that movie, for god’s sake, and knew how it ended: with only one bed.
I quickly added, “But, uh… not today. We’ll unload it at the cabin, and then I’ve got to head back into town and check on Maya. I’ll bring a stand out tomorrow and help you get it inside before your next da—ah, shoot.”
The smile that broke across his face was like sunrise after a long night—warm, bright, and devastatingly beautiful.
“Perfect,” he said, raising a teasing eyebrow. “Just like this tree.”
I groaned and forced myself to turn away and focus on figuring out how to drag the massive spruce through the deepening snow. “Let’s get moving before we become the only people on Earth who’ve died from hypothermia at a Christmas tree farm.”
As we began the laborious process of hauling the tree, I tried to convince myself that I was just being a good business owner—securing a customer’s satisfaction, ensuring the shoot could be completed properly.
But the memory of Adrian beneath me in the snow, his eyes darkening as he looked at my lips, made it impossible to believe my own lies.
I was in dicey territory, and the storm brewing around us was nothing compared to the one taking shape inside me.
By the time I arrived home that evening, every muscle in my body ached.
Hauling Adrian’s ridiculously large tree through the snow, securing it to my truck, and then leaning it up against the porch of his rental cabin had been a workout even by my standards.
But that wasn’t what had me pacing the floor of our apartment above the hardware store, a forgotten mug of coffee cooling on the kitchen counter.
It was what had happened—or almost happened—in the snow.
I’d nearly kissed Adrian Hayes. And worse, I’d wanted to. Badly.
The realization hit me like a sledgehammer as I replayed the moment for the hundredth time. The weight of my body against his. The softness in his eyes. The way my name had sounded on his lips. If he hadn’t shivered from the cold, would I have closed that final distance between us?
“Fuck,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair as I crossed to the window.
Snow continued to fall outside, muting and softening Founder’s Row.
Even though the storm hadn’t intensified as predicted, I’d still raced away from Adrian’s cabin like my ass was on fire.
He’d invited me in for a drink, but I’d made excuses about needing to check on the store before the storm worsened.
The truth was more complicated. I hadn’t trusted myself to stay, not with the memory of our almost-kiss still pulsing between us.
I’d felt something real out there among the trees—something that scared me more than I wanted to admit.
Every accidental brush of our hands afterward had sent electricity through me, a current I wasn’t prepared to handle.
I picked up my forgotten coffee and grimaced as I took a sip of the cold liquid. The chill reminded me of Adrian’s violent shiver, how quickly I’d shed my own jacket for him. How natural it had felt to protect him.
My phone buzzed on the counter. I knew without looking that it was probably Adrian, asking about footage from today or perhaps ideas for tomorrow’s shoot. I should check it. Should maintain professional communication.
Instead, I walked to my desk and woke up my computer. The footage from today’s shoot was already uploaded, waiting to be edited. I hesitated before clicking Play, knowing exactly what I’d see.
Adrian’s face filled the screen, his expression transforming from concentration to triumph as the axe bit into the tree.
The camera had captured everything—his determination, his unexpected competence, the genuine joy when he’d succeeded.
There was nothing rehearsed or artificial about these moments. They were raw, real. Beautiful.
I let the footage continue playing, watching our interactions from the objective eye of the camera. The ease of our banter. The way his expression softened when he thought I wasn’t looking. The tension visible in both our body language as I positioned his hands on the axe.
Anyone watching would see it instantly. The chemistry everyone in town was gossiping about was right there in high definition, impossible to deny.
I paused on a frame where we were both in shot, Adrian looking at me with an expression I hadn’t caught in the moment—something warm and curious and far too genuine for my comfort.
Maya’s voice echoed in my head. “When’s the last time you sparked with someone like that?”
The truth was, I couldn’t remember ever feeling this kind of immediate connection with anyone.
Not even with Michael, the guy I’d been dating when my parents died.
The one who’d left because he “couldn’t handle” the weight of my grief and the responsibilities I’d inherited.
The relationship I’d convinced myself had been serious… until it had proven to be anything but.
My fingers hovered over the keyboard, unsure whether to continue editing or just close the program altogether. The footage was undeniably good—exactly the authentic moments Adrian had been hired to capture—but something about watching it made me restless.
I closed the video and leaned back in my chair, exhaling slowly. This thing with Adrian—whatever it was—scared me more than I wanted to admit. Because for some reason, it felt like Michael’s departure had been a paper cut compared to what Adrian’s inevitable exit would be.
Before the month was over, Adrian Hayes would return to Los Angeles.
Back to his influencer life of luxury hotels and designer clothes and carefully manufactured moments.
Legacy, Montana, would become nothing more than a successful content series in his portfolio, a stepping stone to bigger sponsorships.
And I’d still be here. Running the store. Worrying about Maya’s college tuition, the leak in the stockroom roof, and the suppliers demanding payment.
My phone buzzed again, more insistently this time. Reluctantly, I crossed the room to check it.
Two messages from Adrian.
Adrian
Thanks again for today. Tree looks amazing. The footage even better.
Hoping the storm doesn’t mess with our shooting schedule tomorrow at the reservoir. Weather app says it might clear by mid-morning. Fingers crossed we’ll still be a go for ice fishing with your friend Reid.
So professional. So proper. No mention of what had almost happened between us.
No reference to the moment when everything had shifted.
Maybe I’d imagined it. Maybe for him, it had just been an adrenaline response, a momentary connection without deeper meaning.
The thought should have been comforting. Instead, it left a hollow feeling in my chest.
I typed back a brief, equally professional response:
Footage looks good. Let’s touch base in the morning about weather. Rest up.
My thumb hovered over the Send button before I added:
Tree really is perfect. Good choice.
It was the closest I could come to acknowledging what had happened between us. A small olive branch extending into the chasm of what remained unsaid.
His response came almost immediately:
Adrian
High praise from my grumpy mountain man. I’ll take it.
His use of the word “my” hit me funny. It was both annoying and sweet. I hated that I liked it.
Another text came in a moment later.
Adrian
Going to study some ice fishing videos on YouTube. Have to impress my date tomorrow. ;)
The wink emoticon was so perfectly, irritatingly Adrian that I couldn’t help but smile. Even through text, he managed to be both charming and infuriating.
I set the phone down without responding, knowing anything I said would only encourage him. Instead, I returned to my computer and pulled up the contract he’d sent over before our first shoot—the one outlining exactly how many videos we needed to complete, the payment schedule, the deliverables.
Business. This was business. A short-term project with a clear end date.
I needed to remember that, to hold on to that reality like a lifeline.
Because the alternative—admitting that Adrian Hayes was getting under my skin, that I was attracted to him in a way that went beyond the physical, that I actually enjoyed his company when he wasn’t being performative—that alternative led nowhere good.
Tomorrow, I would be professional. I would maintain appropriate boundaries. I would not think about how he’d looked lying in the snow beneath me, snowflakes catching on his eyelashes, lips parted in invitation.
I would not wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t shivered.
I would not imagine how those lips might have felt against mine.
I closed my eyes, willing away the images that refused to fade. When that didn’t work, I shut down my computer and headed for the shower, turning the water to cold in a desperate attempt to clear my head.
The project was partway done. Ten more days of filming. Then Adrian would leave, and everything would return to normal.
I just had to keep my head. And my heart. And remember that some trees, no matter how perfect they appeared, were never meant to be brought home.
#AlmostKiss #IveSeenThisMovie #UnplannedSnowAngels #PineExfoliation #TenMoreDates