Chapter 11
#MISTLETOEAMBUSH
ADRIAN
Waking up the morning after Maddox’s extreme hot and cold routine was like waking up hungover… except without the benefit of a good drunk the night before.
Just when I’d thought he was willing to pull down his walls a little for me, he’d bolted like a scared mouse. I’d been left feeling a strangled mix of hollow and selfish.
I’d gotten mine, and he’d fucked right off without letting me reciprocate. Even if this thing between us had only been physical—and god knew I’d hoped for more than that—he should have at least let me even the score.
Instead, Maddox had texted before dawn to say most of town was still digging out, the roads weren’t safe for anyone who didn’t have a 4x4, and that I should stay put. He’d also helpfully included the details of where and when he’d be filming my fourth date.
What he didn’t include was a single word about the night before… or an apology for his abrupt departure.
It was as if the whole thing had never happened.
I tried to keep myself as busy as I could, despite being snowed in.
I checked the stats on the video I’d posted of my tree-trimming “date” last night and found I was winning my bet with Maddox—the comments section was littered with sweating emojis and endless variations of “With a man that hot, honey, who needs to know how to build a fire?”—but the victory felt hollow.
I couldn’t imagine collecting on it, after everything.
Thankfully, the woods behind the cabin were perfect for shooting clips with my thoughts on Legacy, the holidays, Nordique’s signature style, and anything else I could think of to riff on.
I kept my thoughts on flip-flopping lumberjacks to myself.
But after exhausting myself editing and scheduling posts all evening, I finally revisited the whiskey bottle from the night before and eventually fell into a fitful sleep that left me even more hungover for my date the next day.
At least this time, I could say I’d been good and drunk first.
The Legacy Christmas Market sprawled across the town square like something from a storybook—wooden artisan stalls draped with evergreen garlands, twinkling lights strung overhead in a canopy of stars, and the scent of cinnamon, pine, and roasted chestnuts perfuming the crisp evening air.
Fresh snow from the storm blanketed the ground, crunching beneath boots and reflecting the rainbow of colored lights.
It was impossibly picturesque. Exactly the kind of aesthetic I’d fly across the country to capture. But I wasn’t seeing any of it through my camera lens.
I was too busy watching Maddox pretend I didn’t exist.
“So date number four is with Jamie Berg,” he said, adjusting his camera settings while carefully avoiding eye contact. “He runs a coffee shop just up the street. Very photogenic, great smile. Locals love him.”
“Sounds perfect,” I replied, matching his professional tone even as my stomach knotted. “Where’s he meeting us?”
“By Juni Dovetail’s ornament stall in about twenty minutes. I figured we should get some establishing shots of the market first.”
The awkwardness between us was as thick as the snow drifts on the side of the highway, and it was really pissing me off.
Maddox Sullivan was the king of acting like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t had his mouth on mine, his hands in my hair, my cock in his mouth. Like he hadn’t shredded my composure, shattered me with pleasure, and then immediately rebuilt the walls between us, brick by goddamn brick.
I’d known he’d second-guess everything, but I hadn’t expected him to ice me out completely.
And I hadn’t expected it to hurt this much.
“You realize this is stupid, right?” I finally said, unable to maintain the charade. “We can’t just pretend—”
“We have a job to do,” Maddox cut me off, his voice tight. “Let’s be professional and do it.”
“Professional. Right.” I couldn’t keep the bitterness from my voice. “Is that what you call what happened the other night? Professional?”
His jaw clenched, a muscle jumping beneath the stubble I now knew felt deliciously rough against my skin. “That was a mistake,” he said quietly. “The storm, the whiskey… it shouldn’t have happened.”
The words stung more than the frigid air.
“Funny,” I said, struggling to keep my voice light. “You didn’t seem to think it was a mistake when you had my cock in your mouth.”
His eyes flashed dangerously. “Keep your voice down,” he hissed, glancing around at the oblivious marketgoers.
“Or what?” I challenged, stepping closer. “Afraid the town gossips will know you actually have feelings under that grumpy flannel exterior? That you’re a flesh-and-blood man who—”
“I have a sister to look after. A business to run. A life here that will continue long after you’ve moved on to your next luxury sponsorship.” His voice was low, almost desperate. “This isn’t a game for me.”
The raw honesty in his words doused my anger like cold water. He wasn’t being cruel. He was afraid.
“Who said anything about a game?” I asked, softer now.
Before he could answer, a voice called out from behind us.
“Maddox! Adrian! There you are!”
We turned to see Maya hurrying toward us, cheeks flushed with cold and excitement. She was bundled in a red coat and matching hat, looking like a walking Christmas card.
“Hey, squirt,” Maddox greeted, his tone instantly warmer. “Thought you were helping Mrs. Hernandez with her booth?”
“I am, but I came to tell you that Jamie can’t make it. His truck was making a funny noise, and he had to take it to a shop in Billings.” She delivered this news with suspicious cheerfulness.
Maddox’s expression darkened. “Are you serious? That’s four cancellations in a row.”
“Total coincidence,” Maya said, not even attempting to sound convincing. “Anyway, have you heard everyone talking about your most recent videos? They’re all going nuts, but one of them is killing it. People can’t get enough of you two!”
I couldn’t disagree with her. My social media channels had been flooded with comments about how “perfect” the two of us were together and how “refreshingly homey” the tree-decorating date had been.
It was even getting attention from other media outlets and potential sponsors.
Vic was beside himself with excitement and already working his contacts to try and pin down future projects like this one.
It was harder for me to ignore the DMs in which various men told me in graphic detail what they imagined Maddox and I had been getting up to behind closed doors. If Maddox had seen any of that, he would’ve run me out of town by now, so maybe it was a good thing he didn’t spend time on social media.
Maya tugged Maddox’s coat sleeve. “Emerson said tree sales at the farm are already up since the tree-cutting video, and Bonnie told me just this morning that yesterday’s online sales at the hardware store were double our usual! We’re sold out of Christmas tree lights! Can you believe it?”
Maddox’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t respond. I had to admit I was secretly satisfied with the result of my casual mention of Sullivan Hardware and happy that I’d been able to help the store with my reach. But it would have been nice to hear Maddox acknowledge it.
His eyes flicked to me and away. “Maybe we can get Zach Jordan to stand in. He’s a teacher at the high school, though, so he might not be allowed to do social media stuff.”
Maya frowned at him. “Mr. Jordan’s a terrible choice. Besides, he’s still upset after you shot him down last Christmas.”
I studied Maddox’s face, suddenly very interested in this Zach Jordan guy. And also interested in a little bit of petty revenge. “How can we find him? Is he around today?”
Maya looked around quickly and shook her head. “Even if he is, you can hardly kiss a schoolteacher in public. Imagine what all the parents would say.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “I don’t need to kiss him. I only need him to walk around the Christmas Market with me and let your brother capture it on video.” Then I glanced at Maddox before adding, “And maybe hold hands with the guy a little.”
Maddox’s jaw worked again.
Maya laughed. “You’re so funny, Adrian. I mean, the Christmas Market is great and all, but everyone knows we’re really here tonight for the Mistletoe Ceremony, and if you’re going to participate, you need someone you can ki—oh, I know!
” Her face lit up like she’d just had a brilliant idea. “Maddox can be your stand-in again!”
“Maya,” Maddox said in a warning tone.
She grinned like she hadn’t heard him, proving that Maddox wasn’t the only Sullivan who could block out reality. “Great! I knew you’d agree. Sounds perfect!”
After watching her dart off into the crowd, I couldn’t help but ask, “Mistletoe Ceremony?”
“Ignore her,” he grumbled. “It’s a Legacy tradition. They hang a giant ball of mistletoe in the center of the square. Whenever they illuminate it, whoever’s caught underneath shares the season’s first mistletoe kiss.” He gave me a hard look. “We won’t be getting anywhere near that mistletoe.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, unable to resist needling him. “It sounds like perfect content for the video series. We should definitely capture it.”
Maddox ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I now recognized as his go-to move when stressed. “Not together, we won’t. We’re being set up. And I don’t appreciate it. We need to find you another date—”
“Or,” I interrupted, watching his expression carefully, “we could stick with what’s working and continue to watch our social media reach expand. You can’t deny what we’re doing is resonating.”
He finally met my eyes and lowered his voice. “What we’re ‘doing’ was a mistake.”