Chapter 5
Emmett stands from the couch. “Try not to miss me too much, Hol-Stell-whichever one you are.”
“Holly,” Teddy and Stella say at the same time.
“Geez, dude. You’ve known them as long as Teddy.” Felix shakes his head.
“Sorry.” Emmett shrugs one shoulder. “But you told me not to look at them twice when we met, so . . .”
“He gave us all that talk,” Lucas says, then looks at Felix. “So don’t go blaming us for not being able to tell them apart two years later.”
“Fair enough.” Felix laughs and tosses a chin jut and smile at Teddy. “You’re good staying?”
“I’m not squeezing into the back seat with those two,” he says and points at Emmett and Lucas. Then he gives my brother an easy smile. “I’ll be fine, man. I’m gonna ice my tailbone. Drive safe.”
The door closes behind them and silence falls over the cabin. I’m alone with Theo Radford.
An entire day, just the two of us, in this cabin? Sure, that sounds like a dream come true, but that assumes a lot of things. Including my ability to form sentences.
“I’m going to shower.” Teddy jabs a thumb toward the bathroom.
I’m rolling out cookie dough, proudly wearing one of my grandmother’s old aprons, and listening to Christmas music.
I’ve known Teddy too long to feel uncomfortable being in the same space, but there is definitely a different type of tension when he comes out to the living room in jeans, holding his T-shirt in one hand.
“Hey, can you help me? I need to put some of this balm on my tattoo.”
“You got a tattoo?” He’s one of the few on the team that didn’t have one. Felix has so many I’ve lost count at this point.
“Yeah.” He smiles and those dimples make my stomach flip. “Two days ago.”
Teddy invades my space in the kitchen and turns to show me. Over his left shoulder blade is an intricately drawn woman with large wings. She stands in profile with a fierce look on her face, a sword at her hip.
“It’s beautiful. Does it have some significance?”
“She’s my guardian angel. Figured it wouldn’t hurt for her to have my back on the field, ya know? Plus, she looked awesome.” He hands me a tub of tattoo healing balm.
“Your guardian angel is seriously hot and pretty badass.”
His upper body shakes with his laughter. “No doubt.”
I dip my fingers into the balm and then run it over the tattoo. His skin is warm and my heart races as I gently dab it onto the skin. The tips of my fingers linger there, tracing the outline of the black ink.
“All done?” His voice is deeper than it was a minute ago and the sound goes straight to my lower stomach.
“Yeah.” I drop my hand and set the tub of balm on the counter.
I move to the sink to wash my hands and then go back to rolling out the dough.
Teddy puts on his shirt and then takes a seat at one of the stools on the other side of the counter. “I was thinking, if you want, I could go with you to pick out a tree.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. Plus, I’m not doing anything else today.”
“What about that girl Anna? You aren’t seeing her again?”
His brows pinch together. “Anna?”
“She was asking about you last night.” I stare down at the cookie dough. “I thought, maybe . . .” I can’t think of a way to finish that sentence without embarrassing myself, so I don’t. “It’s okay. I need to finish the cookies anyway.”
“Okay.” He gets up and goes around behind me in the kitchen to the sink. He turns on the faucet, but I don’t look back to see what he’s doing.
I finish rolling the dough and then begin to cut out shapes with holiday cookie cutters Stella and I picked up on our way to the cabin—snowflakes, presents, Christmas trees, reindeer, gingerbread men and women, candy canes, bells, wreaths .
. . we went a little overboard. Okay, fine, it was mostly me.
Teddy appears by my side, drying his hands on a towel. “How can I help?”
He drops the towel and scoops up a scrap piece of dough and tosses it in his mouth.
He has a boyish grin on his face as I smack at his hand. “No taste-testing until the end.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“You really want to help? Don’t feel like you need to hang out with me just because everyone else left. I’m fine on my own.”
“I really want to, Holly. And for the record, nothing happened with Anna. She stayed because Tricia did.”
“Oh.” It’s all I can think to say. My heart is beating so loudly, I’m certain he can hear it. Glancing down, I ask, “Do you want to use the cookie cutters or the spatula?”
“Whatever I can screw up less.”
I hand him the spatula. “Put the ones I cut out onto the pan. Leave an inch or so between them.”
I cut out more designs and Teddy uses the spatula to lift the cookies onto the pan. He curses as a Santa-shaped one sticks. He tries to help it off with his finger but mangles it.
“Shit.”
“It’s okay.” I step closer to help reshape poor Santa. One of his legs sticks out at a weird angle. Somehow, in trying to fix it, I make it worse and now there’s a bulge between Santa’s legs. Perfect. I just made the cookie anatomically correct.
“Oh well, that one can be our taste-test cookie at the end.”
He nods and tries another, getting a similar result.
“Here.” I hand him the bell cookie cutter and step around him.
He is meticulous in his work, and we get into a rhythm, only stopping when I need to roll out the dough again.
“You really do this every year?” he asks, swiping another scrap of dough to eat.
“Yeah. We make sugar cookies, sometimes other kinds too. I basically live on sugar during the holiday break.”
He laughs. “Sounds nice.”
“What about you? What kind of things does your family do for the holidays?”
“It’s just my dad and brother and me. It’s pretty low-key. Nothing like the Walters’ family traditions. Definitely no cute, shaped cookies.” He holds up a snowflake cookie cutter.
His mom died when he was young. Something I knew from Felix, but have never heard Teddy mention.
“You don’t bake together during the holidays?”
“No. My dad makes two things—spaghetti and steak. The other nights of the week, we eat out or make sandwiches or something easy.”
“And what about you?”
“I don’t cook if I can help it.”
“If I had to eat the same two meals every week, I think I would have learned.”
“I like spaghetti and steak.”
We both laugh.
“Those are ready to bake.” I point to the pans.
I set a timer while he puts them in the oven.
“Ever made homemade frosting?”
He lifts a brow. “Didn’t even know that was a thing.”
“Do you like frosting?”
“Hell, yeah.”
“Just making sure. It doesn’t fall into your spaghetti or steak diet.”
We move around the kitchen. I get out the ingredients, he gets the measuring cups, and together, we make enough buttercream frosting for twice the cookies we made.
I hold out the spoon for him to taste. He leans forward, his lips part and his tongue darts out, just before his mouth covers the end of the spoon.
He groans as he pulls away, eyes falling closed, making butterflies swarm in my lower belly.
“Good?”
He nods, eyes still closed. “So damn good.”
I’m still staring at his mouth when he finally opens his eyes. I feel a ridiculous amount of pride at his praise.
The timer goes off and I quickly move to pull the cookies from the oven.
“Now we just have to wait for them to cool.”
“And then we can decorate them?”
“If you want.”
“I want,” he says, and his gaze drops to my lips.
I step back, suddenly aware I’m covered in flour and frosting. “I’m a mess.”
“Yeah, me too.” He glances down at his T-shirt.
“I’m gonna clean up.”
“Okay. Then, if you still want to, we can go get a tree.”
I half expected him to duck out by this point. It’s been a few hours since Felix and Stella left, which means they’re home and the cleaners are working. My time alone with Teddy is running out.
“Okay.” I blow out a breath. “Yeah, let’s go get a tree.”
At the tree lot, Teddy falls into step beside me and we slowly walk through the rows of firs and spruces.
It’s the perfect weather for tree shopping.
The sky is overcast and there’s a light snow falling.
They have holiday music playing and lights strung up around the perimeter of the lot to add to the Christmas spirit.
“It’s like being in a snow globe.” I hold my arms out to my sides and turn in a circle.
“You really like Christmas, huh?”
“Doesn’t everyone?”
“Everyone likes vacation and getting presents, but no, I don’t think everyone really likes Christmas like you do.”
“There’s just something about it,” I say, glancing over at him. The ends of his hair curl around the edge of the black beanie pulled down low to cover his ears. “It’s magical. The lights, the smells, the cheer. Anything feels possible this time of year.”
I feel a little silly immediately after the words are out of my mouth, but Teddy grins at me. “I like Christmas too. When I was little, my mom made a big deal out of it. I miss that.”
“What kinds of things did she do?”
“She made gingersnaps. She only iced half of the cookie like they were dipped in icing. I don’t know why, though. Maybe that’s how they’re supposed to be. And she collected snowmen.” He smiles. “I forgot about that. They were all over the house.”
“I love that.”
We wander down the rows. It’s busy today with families and couples all picking out their perfect tree. I stop in front of a large Grand fir. It’s beautiful. I lean in and breathe in the scent.
“That the one?” Teddy asks.
“No.” I sigh and run my hand over a branch. “It’s too big for the cabin and too pricey.” I point to the three-hundred-dollar price tag. “Besides, Felix and Stella like the Douglas fir better, so we always get one of those. But this one smells better.”
He steps closer, his arm brushing mine and he inhales. “Smells pretty good.”
“Told you.” I step away and head toward a section of smaller trees, many are shaped funny or not as full. A half-off sign hangs behind them.
“A Charlie Brown Christmas?” Teddy asks.
“These trees need love too.” I wrap a hand around the top of the best of the ugly, unwanted Douglas fir trees. “What do you think?”
“I think if anyone can make that tree beautiful, it’s you.”
His compliment and the way he’s looking at me turn my legs to rubber. Maybe Stella was right, and Teddy sees me as more than Felix’s little sister. The thought makes me dizzy with hope. I take a step, wobble and fall toward him with the tree.
Teddy wraps one big arm around me, and with the other, he steadies the tree. I’m cradled against him. He’s warm and sturdy, and the mixture of smells— the snow and the trees and him—renders me completely helpless.
“Are you okay?” I can feel the question rumble in his chest. I wonder if that means he can feel my heart racing.
Reluctantly, I step out of his hold. “Perfect.”