Chapter 9 #2
I wasn’t nearly tiny enough to apply for the role of a Disney Princess, but Nick’s strong hands wrapped around my middle gave me enough Beauty and the Beast vibes to swoon. But I couldn’t. This was Nick. This was the enemy.
The enemy who’d been about to give me the Heimlich the last time we’d stood this close. But that had been in my kitchen while I choked on my own spit, not in a snow-dusted forest with birds chirping overhead and afternoon sunbeams pressing past the clouds.
I just thought I felt the chemistry then.
His spicy aftershave and some kind of masculine deodorant filled my senses as my fingers dug into his flannel shirt, accessible through his unzipped jacket. I was literally clutching his chest, but at this point, he hadn’t made any move to release his grip on me either.
“Nice shot.” I risked a glance upward, trying to stay mad. This man had tricked me. Pretended to like me, pretended to want to be my date.
“I know.” A grin quirked his lips.
Oy. Smokey Bear always said only I could prevent forest fires, and if I didn’t get out of this man’s proximity, I was going to fail.
I quickly backed up and Nick’s hands slid off my waist. A fresh, depressing wave of cold washed over me. But only because it was freezing out. Only because my socks were wet and the back of my neck was soaked.
Right?
Nick reached out and brushed snow from my hair, still grinning. “How’d that get there?”
The only thing worse than having this level of attraction to my sworn enemy would be letting him know it. I squared my shoulders, steeling my spine and refusing to give him the satisfaction of shivering. “You’re just lucky I didn’t try out for softball in high school.”
“I think your high school is lucky you didn’t try out.” Laughter danced in his brown eyes.
I slapped my gloved hands together to rid them of lingering snow. “Touché.”
The sun inched out from behind a cloud, warming the back of my neck and turning Nick’s eyes from coffee to caramel. Around us, the snowball fight continued, punctuated by squeals from the kids and Chloe’s protests as she attempted to protect her hair.
Nick’s teasing smile remained unchanged as he brushed ice crystals off his jacket sleeve. “Maybe next time you won’t start something you can’t finish, Sinclair.”
Much too late for that.
“Maybe.” I held his gaze, my cheeks and chest flushing hot even as cold dripped down the back of my neck. “Though Mom always did say I learned the hard way.”
“That’s too bad. Not everything has to be difficult, you know.” His eyes softened. “Or…festive.”
Aha. Finally begging for mercy from Operation: Naughty List. It was about time. I lifted my chin, the taste of victory sweet. “It’s much better that way. Trust me.”
“Which way?” He tilted his head. “Difficult, or festive?”
“In this case, both.” I fluttered my lashes at him. “I heard we’re going to the mall later. Have you figured out what you’re going to ask Santa for?”
He blew out a short breath, his expression tightening even as his tone stayed light. “I have a few ideas.”
So he wasn’t fully cracking yet. Fine. I had plenty more ideas. It was only a matter of time until he caved. “If you get your list to me, I can print and laminate it for you, like mine. Pretty sure Santa prefers it that way.”
He nodded. “Thoughtful.”
“Oh, and don’t worry.” I flipped my gloved hand through the air. “I made an online order for those ugly sweater materials we need. I can pick it up tomorrow.”
“Did you get glitter?” He tried to hide it, but fear formed a tiny line between his brows.
“Don’t be silly.” I snorted. “Glitter doesn’t stick on fabric.”
His shoulders dropped to a normal place on his frame. “Shame.”
“So I got a lot of glitter glue. ”
His shoulders hiked back up near his ears. “Oh, great.”
I hid my smile. “We should get started on them in the next day or so. Give the glue plenty of time to dry.”
“Right.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “It’ll be…fun.”
It would be—for me. Because he was stuck, and he knew it.
Though Mom’s holiday party would be a lot more fun if Nick had actually wanted to go with me in the first place.
The reminder sucked a little bit of wind from my victory sails and I cleared my throat, backing away, smile fading.
Frozen leaves crunched under my feet. I wasn’t pathetic, was I?
No, I was a woman on a mission. A woman with a plan.
I lifted my chin. Operation: Naughty List would see me through. I just had to stick with it.
But I needed more. Needed bigger…something more effective than an ugly sweater. My eyes scouted the woods around us, the melting ice and crunchy grass. Surely I’d think of something.
And in the meantime…I looked back at Nick. “Ready to get that tree?”
“I was born ready.” But Nick’s eyes didn’t match his smile anymore.
I was pretty sure mine didn’t either.
The screen door slammed behind Nick as he followed Thomas into the backyard toward the barn. The older man’s flashlight bobbed across the shadowed ground as an icy wind cut through the neck of Nick’s coat. In the distance, a coyote let loose a mournful howl.
“Feel that?” Thomas shot a smile over the shoulder of his bulky Carhartt jacket. “The temp must have dropped fifteen degrees since we left the woods earlier. I wouldn’t be surprised if we wake up to a few more inches of snow.”
“The kids would love that, I’m sure.” Nick kept pace as they made their way toward the rows of stacked firewood. Like everything else around the farm, they were neatly organized and well-tended, protected from the rain by the outbuilding’s overhang.
“Just the kids?” Thomas’s beam of light swept over the barn, highlighting the worn but sturdy red structure. “Are you not a fan?”
“I appreciate snow, but it usually means more work.” Nick laughed. Then he quickly corrected. “Which I’m not afraid of.” The last thing he needed was to make the Sinclairs think he couldn’t handle managing their beloved property.
Thomas didn’t seem to notice his slip. He aimed the light on the wood pile between them, the motion casting angled shadows across his expression. “Holly always loved it growing up. She’d be the first one out each day to make snow angels.”
“Really?” Nick leaned one shoulder against the beam supporting the overhang. It wasn’t hard to picture her sprawled across the ground as a little girl, red hair bright against fresh snow.
“I’m pretty sure she asked Santa for a white Christmas every year.” Thomas rubbed his jaw with his hand. “Guess she hasn’t done that in a while. She stopped making Christmas lists in middle school, I think.” He shrugged. “Guess she outgrew it.”
There was more to it than that, surely. Kids didn’t just start hating Christmas as teenagers. The bigger question was, why had she suddenly jumped back into the spirit of things with a vengeance?
Nick squinted. Vengeance. The word niggled in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t connect it.
“Anyway, thanks for helping me carry this in.” Thomas tucked the flashlight under one arm as he gestured toward the half cord of wood before them.
“Grace loves a cozy living room while trimming the tree.” He shook his head with an indulgent grin.
“Almost as much as she loves having her kids home to help her do it.”
“It’s no problem.” Nick moved to gather a bundle from the rack.
“You already cut down an entire tree today—it’s the least I can do.
” Thomas operated like a man nearly half his age.
Even now, the biting wind whistling through the air didn’t seem to be affecting him, short of reddening his whiskered cheeks.
“Well, to be fair, I also wanted an excuse to talk to you privately.” Thomas straightened his shoulders as he met Nick’s gaze.
Nick swallowed, forcing himself to hold the intimidating eye contact. This was surely about Holly and their upcoming date. Was Thomas mad he hadn’t asked permission first or—
“What do you think of the property?” Thomas spread one arm to encompass the sprawling land around them.
Right. The farm. Nick shook his head to regroup.
“It’s, uh, honestly, it’s perfect.” He relaxed with a smile.
Every day was one step closer now. “The woods are beautiful, and all the outbuildings seem ideal for the goals I have for the youth. There’s even a perfect spot to pour a slab for basketball. ”
Thomas held up one finger. “About that…”
“Oh. I mean, I don’t have to.” The words tripped over themselves leaving his lips. “It was just an idea. I thought it’d be a good outlet for the kids’ pent-up aggression and stress. But if you don’t want me to pour concrete I don’t—”
“Follow me.” Thomas waved the flashlight, the beam arcing across the yard as he started around the far side of the barn.
Uh-oh. Nick set down the wood he’d picked up, then hurried after Thomas. His chest burned from the cold, but he didn’t mind. It was the type of cold that came from marching across property that could very well be his in a few short months. More exhilarating than uncomfortable.
Assuming he hadn’t just offended Thomas by wanting to pour concrete on the man’s oasis.
“To get your bearings—our hike for the Christmas tree was on the north ten acres.” Thomas pointed, his light slicing through the shadows where they’d been that afternoon. “Now we’re heading east. I can’t believe Ryan hasn’t shown you this side of the property yet.”
Nick hesitated. “Well, that could be because he doesn’t know that’s why I’m here.”
“Right.” The older man’s breath puffed through the cold air as they continued walking away from the barn. “I keep forgetting who knows what.” He chuckled.
At least someone could laugh about it. But Nick had a lot more to keep straight than Thomas realized.
“Grace would kill me in my sleep if Ryan or the others found out we’re moving before she was ready.” Thomas winced. “Guess I better be more careful.”
“You and me both, sir.”
Their shoes crunched the frozen grass as the path moved uphill. “Almost there.” If Thomas was out of breath, he didn’t show it.
Nick fought to hide his own exertion. He hit the gym regularly but apparently hadn’t been doing enough cardio. The hope he’d tried to contain since arriving on the property buoyed to the surface.
He, too, was almost there.
“Ah.” Thomas stopped at the top of the hill and shone the flashlight under his chin, temporarily shading the view before them. His grin was distorted in the beam, his eyes bright. “One of my favorite spots on the property. Ready for this?”
Nick drew a deep breath, filling his lungs with the promise of snow. “Ready.”
Thomas angled the beam forward. The high-powered light bounced off the forest line and illuminated the grounds below.
They’d hiked a slight incline, but the other side of the hill dropped much steeper into a dimly lit valley.
Perfect for sledding, as the worn, patchy streaks down the hill already indicated.
The valley ran smooth and flat for several acres.
Nick could easily picture the entire field laden with wildflowers in May.
A wooden structure, shadowed by the forest’s edge, looked to be a tree house, complete with a rope ladder, fireman pole, and a staircase that started at the ground and wound its way to the top of the platform. How fun.
Nick smiled. He could imagine Holly as a kid, sliding down the pole and landing in a heap of tall grass in the spring and snow in the winter. How in the world had Ryan not mentioned this gold mine of a valley?
Then Thomas cast the light toward the left of the field, letting it rest on another surprise. Nick sucked in his breath.
An entire basketball court, complete with hoops and painted foul lines.
Nick’s eyes burned, and not from the wind that burrowed under the lined neck of his jacket.
What was it Grace had said on the phone that day?
Must be a God thing. This sure felt like it.
A basketball court wasn’t necessary to get his ranch started.
It was simply on his list as one of the more expensive luxuries he could add one day—if he was ever able to get enough sponsors.
The concrete square lying in the valley felt almost as crucial for his future campers as a roof over their heads or food on their plates.
“Wow.” Nick swallowed hard, grateful Thomas was also gazing at the court and not at him. “I can see why this is a favorite spot.”
“In the fall, this entire tree line turns orange and gold.” The light wobbled in Thomas’s hand and he steadied it.
“Our kids grew up sledding down this hill in the winter, playing in the tree house in the summer.” He let out a sigh.
“I guess it’s not just Grace who’s gonna have a hard time leaving. ”
“I can imagine. Lots of memories were made here.” Nick returned the favor and pretended not to notice the emotion coating Thomas’s words.
The man’s smile was bittersweet as he gazed over the valley. “It makes sense, though, you know? The grandkids don’t live close enough to use all this. Not to mention every year I get a little older and the property gets a little harder to maintain.”
Nick murmured his sympathy. “Closing chapters can be hard.”
“So can starting new ones.” Thomas eyed him. “But I think you’re up for the task. I’d really like to hear more of your story sometime, before we start talking hard numbers. You know, more of your why.”
Nick’s heartbeat stilled. He knew it was inevitable they’d get around to that eventually. He wasn’t ashamed of his testimony—not exactly. He’d even shared his story with a few high school groups before.
But it was one thing to tell his experience to a teenage boy and urge him down a better path…and totally another to tell it to a man clearly gauging his worth and character. Thomas hadn’t outright said that conversation would be a test.
But it would be a test.
Nick offered a tight nod. “Absolutely.”
“But not tonight.” Thomas checked his watch and let out a whistle. “Grace will be wondering where that next round of firewood ran off to. We better hustle.” He winked. “Here’s a free tip—happy wife, happy life.”
Nick joined him on their trek back down the hill. “I always thought it was happy house, happy spouse.”
Thomas leaned his head back and let out a guffaw. “You’ve been single a while, haven’t you?”
It was pretty obvious, wasn’t it? “Yes, sir.”
“Well, let me give you another tip, then.” Thomas stopped short on the trail and put his hand on Nick’s shoulder. “When you find the right woman, it’s no trouble at all keeping her happy. She makes it easy because she makes you happy.”
Red hair and elf ears and snowballs flittered through Nick’s head. But that was ridiculous. Holly didn’t make him happy. She made him…exhausted.
Nick followed Thomas back to the wood pile, emotions tumbling over each other like a snowball gathering traction. Maybe in another world, Holly could have been that person. A world where they were honest. A world where they were on the same page.
A world where they both actually hated Christmas.