Chapter 20
WYNTER
Something was happening. Wynter wasn’t sure she was happy about it.
Strange.
Unexpected.
Not entirely bad… but terrifying, nevertheless.
Marcus still stopped by nearly every day, but he wasn’t working as much. He’d put a couple hours in her grandfather’s shop, eat dinner, then chat for a little while before going home.
The weird part about all of this was how easy it was to visualize him in her life long term. It shouldn’t be odd, and yet with her mindset, it was.
Wynter would catch herself watching him with Grams and forget that she didn’t want to be in a relationship. A small part of her had been converted to the idea, which was what confused her the most.
“Uno!” Marcus called out, slapping down a card.
Grams groaned, her hands still full of cards.
Wynter was the first one to get rid of all her cards. But that tended to happen when half the cards in her deck were forcing the others to draw more. After that, she insisted she would quit while she was ahead.
So while Grams and Marcus continued to play Uno, Wynter stood at the counter, frosting sugar cookies.
Isabelle had dropped them off and pleaded for help to decorate them for a work party her brother was hosting at the end of the week.
Wynter couldn’t bring herself to say no.
It was nice to have something to do with her hands.
Heaven knew that when she didn’t stay busy, her thoughts wandered far too much.
Christmas music played from her phone’s speaker, and Wynter glanced at her grandmother, whose eyes flickered with triumph.
Wynter knew that look, and she hid a smile as she ducked her head. This was where Grams would bring Marcus to his knees.
As expected, Grams tossed down a draw four card. Then another. She’d been holding out on them.
Marcus settled back in his seat with an exaggerated groan. “Not fair.”
“Life’s not fair, kiddo,” Grams said with a wink.
Wynter snickered, drawing Marcus’s eyes. His focus zeroed in on her, locking with hers, and in that moment all she wanted was for this to be… real.
She wanted Marcus to be part of her family. He fit in this life with her and Grams.
That desire scared her half to death. Not because she finally wanted something more, but because she knew how much Marcus wanted in his life.
A family. Children. A future filled with light and love.
There wasn’t anything wrong with wanting it. Right now, that part of her she’d kept dormant wanted it too.
It was the losing it that she refused to let happen. If she didn’t have more, then it couldn’t be taken away from her. Attachments were dangerous. She just had to keep reminding herself that what Marcus wanted wasn’t what she needed.
“Uno!” Grams shouted, her hands shooting into the air.
Marcus chuckled, tossing his handful of cards to the table. “You’re supposed to say Uno when you have one left. Not when you lay your last card down.”
Grams bopped her head from side to side. “Tomato, tomah-to.”
He chuckled again, and Grams glanced in Wynter’s direction, causing Marcus to do the same. He was the one to speak first. “Need some help?”
Wynter shook her head. “Just about done.” Even as she said it, Marcus got to his feet.
Grams made a show of yawning and stretching. “I’m pooped. It’s probably about time for me to head to bed.”
Wynter darted a look at her, then to Marcus. She was doing it again. Grams was meddling. “You sure? Maybe you’d like to frost some cookies?”
Marcus was at her back by this point and reached around her to grab a cookie. His arm brushed against hers and tingles rippled along her skin. “I thought you said you didn’t need help,” he murmured right next to her ear, making those tingles even worse.
Her throat went dry. “That’s because I… don’t.” Her voice was barely above a whisper as he reached around her once more to scoop some frosting onto a knife.
“Yes, I’m sure, sweetheart. I’m exhausted. It’s been a long day.” Grams got to her feet and headed for the hall that led to her room. “Don’t forget to lock up.”
Wynter opened her mouth to protest, but Grams had already disappeared.
And once again, Wynter was alone with Marcus.
They hadn’t been alone since that moment in the barn when she’d told him supper was ready.
He’d been close. Too close. She’d wanted so badly to lean into him and give up the fight.
Her arguments were continuing to grow hazy, which was why she had to keep reminding herself that she couldn’t allow herself to get close.
At some point, Marcus had put down the knife. He was at her back, and the warmth of his body enveloped her. His finger traced from her wrist up to where her sleeve had been rolled to her elbow. Goosebumps pebbled on her skin, and she inhaled sharply.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
She shut her eyes and put her knife on the counter. Shaking her head, Wynter murmured, “I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.” Marcus lifted her hair from her shoulder and tugged it back. Cool air tickled the skin on the back of her neck before being replaced with his warm breath. “And I want to know why.”
“I’m not avoiding you,” Wynter whispered.
“Then what do you call it?”
She turned to face him but regretted it immediately.
The counter dug into her lower back as she stared up at him.
He stared right back, his gaze penetrating her to her core.
“I call it living in the same house as my grandmother.” She tilted her chin upward, praying she looked more defiant than terrified.
The way he was smirking at her made it clear he wasn’t intimidated whatsoever. He gave a subtle shake of his head. “No, that’s not it.”
Wynter could feel the heat rising to her face. It started in the pit of her stomach and warmed her body all the way to the top of her head. “Marcus…” she whispered.
His eyes scanned her face, an adorable crease forming between his brows. “What I don’t understand is that we were doing great. You were opening up to me. We… we were getting back to where we were when we were friends.”
“We are friends,” she insisted.
Another shake of his head. “Not like we used to be.” He lifted his hand, and his calloused fingertips brushed her hair aside once more but didn’t stop there.
He grasped a lock of hair and fingered it.
His lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes found hers.
“Is it because… Please don’t tell me that you’re withdrawing after that night. ”
She closed her eyes, unable to lie. He was partially right with his assumption. Crying in his arms had felt more right than it should have. It was too easy to cling to him. Even if she hadn’t told him the root of her issues, simply letting him hold her had been cathartic.
“Wynter,” Marcus murmured. When she didn’t open her eyes, he repeated her name but with more force. “Look at me.”
Her lashes fluttered and she found his gaze. “What?”
“Talk to me.” There was so much pleading in those three words. So much vulnerability. He was too attached.
Anger flared to life in her chest. She could handle herself.
If she got too attached, she was strong enough to walk away and deal with the fallout of her own emotions.
But watching Marcus get his heart broken wasn’t something she felt she could handle.
He wasn’t supposed to fall for her. He was supposed to accept what she’d offered. He’d agreed.
She brought up her hands and placed them on his chest. His eyes darkened with desire, but before he could lean in and kiss her, she gave him a gentle shove. “Stop, Marcus.”
Confusion flickered in his dark eyes. “Wynter—”
“You… promised,” she rasped. Her frown turned into a scowl when nothing in his countenance changed. “You promised,” she repeated. “This isn’t supposed to be serious. There are no expectations.”
His eyes turned dangerous, and his lips curled with disgust. “You can’t still believe that,” he muttered.
Exasperated, she let out a harsh breath. “I’ve been nothing but honest with you from the start. I’ve told you over and over—”
He closed in on her and her breath hitched.
The low husky tone of his voice left no room for argument.
“You’re lying to yourself. I can see it in the way you look at me.
I could feel it in the way you clung to me.
The way your breath hitches in your chest. The way your body reacts to my touch. You know we could be good together.”
What was she supposed to say to that? Her lips parted with surprise, and her mind scrambled for a response he’d accept.
But apparently Marcus wasn’t going to let her get that far. Not without asking the big question.
“Why?” he demanded.
“Why what?” she whispered, voice shaking.
“Why do you insist on standing in your own way?”
Fire burst to life in her chest once more. It was as if her heart could feel the danger she was in. She needed to get out from under his stare. Away from his touch. Inviting this friendship had been a mistake. She’d been a fool to allow things to get this far. “Don’t you dare.”
He blinked. No, it wasn’t an answer to his question. He wouldn’t be getting that.
Wynter poked him in the chest. “Don’t you dare assume anything about me.
We might have been close once, but we’ve changed.
Both of us. And if you think that spending time together for the last several weeks is enough to turn back time, you’re sorely mistaken.
” She flinched when she saw the pain in his eyes, but he covered it up quickly.
Without warning, he framed her face with his hands and pressed a kiss to her lips. Desperation. Longing. Need. His heat threatened to consume her, and in that moment she allowed herself to give in to what he was offering. She moaned, her arms draping around the back of his neck.
Marcus could consume her with one touch. He was right about that. She was weak, and her resolve easily crumbled whenever he was in the vicinity. If things were different, she might have been able to risk it all for him. She might be able to believe in miracles.
She could have allowed herself to be happy even if it was short-lived.
But that wasn’t who she was.
With pained movements, she released him. Her hands trailed down to his chest again, and she turned her head to the side to break the kiss. With a gentle nudge, she pushed him backward. “I think you should go.”
“But—”
“I don’t want to fight, Marcus. Please… go.”
He didn’t move for a long moment. The tight ache in her chest had her wishing she could take it back and beg him to stay. But she was putting her foot down. Wynter wouldn’t allow Marcus to get hurt no matter what.
The longer he stared at her, the worse it became. She could sense that he was already too attached. Maybe it was too late. Maybe he was already going to be hurt, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Wynter turned away from him, unable to look him in the eye.
She counted in her head, focusing on her breathing until she heard the shuffling of his footsteps.
Then the sound of the door opening and closing.
The woosh of cold air was nothing compared to the chill that swept through her body with his absence.
This was for the best. Marcus would learn to accept it. He had once before, and he could do it again. She just couldn’t risk giving her heart to him.