Chapter 22 #2
I move into the next stall, making quick work because I can see that she’s starting to get cold. “Hey, if you want to scoop some feed into their buckets, you can. The scoop is in that green bin over there.”
I see a smile cross her face, clearly happy to help.
“I wasn’t really into the farm thing growing up.
I knew in high school that I’d be joining the family business, and there were times that I was resentful about that, because in a way, a job defines who you are, and I didn’t want that definition to be laid out for me.
But as I started working more and more with the people in town and the tourists, seeing the smiles on their faces, it just .
. . it made sense to me. I saw why my parents did it, and I saw the purpose behind the farm and why my parents wanted to keep it in the family. ”
“That’s . . . that’s really sweet.” She holds out the scoop. “Is this enough?”
“Two of those,” I answer. “Did you always want to be a shop owner?”
“I majored in business, so I thought that I’d do something in that realm, and when I saw the storefront one day on a walk, I had this entire vision come to life in my head, and I just .
. . I went for it. My parents were supportive and helped me put the whole thing together.
It went great for a while, but then it just sort of crashed and burned.
” She sighs. “Doesn’t feel right getting this second chance to help Dwight, because what if . . . what if I mess it up?”
“You will if you think that way,” I say honestly. “You need to have confidence that you will succeed, especially with the right idea, and I’m telling you right now, the best idea is not competing against an already established business in town.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Dwight didn’t think it would be a problem, not having the town behind him, but I don’t know.
After being here for a while and observing the way everyone supports everyone, I just can’t see how it wouldn’t be an issue.
And plus, wouldn’t you want that support?
Like . . . it feels almost like a circle of help.
You pick up a coffee at Warm Your Spirits, and Tanya tells you about a shirt that would look perfect on a person and tells them to go to Baubles and Wrappings, and they tell them to go visit Santa, and then Santa asks them if they’ve visited his reindeer, then they come here, and you say they should .
. . I don’t know . . . stay another night—”
“Eh, that’s not entirely possible. There isn’t a lot of lodging here.”
“There isn’t?” she asks.
“No, we have the inn in town, but that’s pretty much it. Because Kringle saddles up against the mountain, there isn’t much land for housing, which is why people stay outside town and then come in for the day.”
“Oh.”
I glance back at her, watching her mind start to turn. Her eyes find mine.
“What if . . . what if I came up with some sort of housing idea for the town? Do you think that would be stepping on the inn’s toes?”
I stand up and lean on the shovel, thinking about it.
“You know, I don’t think so, as long as it’s a different type of idea than what they have.
Plus, they’re overwhelmed all the time, and I know Crystal and Tim over at the Roasting Chestnut have been wanting to do renovations but have been struggling because they’re constantly booked.
It might be helpful. What are you thinking? ”
“I’m not really sure, but what if . . .?
” She pauses and places the scoop back into the feed.
“What if it was something like the cottage that I’m in?
But a ton of those? All throughout the woods.
The cottage is really nice, and Uncle Dwight had it set up very quickly.
There could be a main lodge with a general store, almost like a KOA campsite, but instead of camping, it can be individual cottages. ”
“That’s a brilliant idea,” I say.
“But would you hate to have a campsite next to you?” she asks.
“Trust me when I say there’s enough room between the properties that I don’t think it would be a big deal.
Also, you have a lot of acreage, so you could have the cottages on the other side, which would give more room in between.
And you can have it so they’re more like two-person cabins—like an adults-only setup, because the Roasting Chestnut is geared toward families. A lot of family suites.”
“Oh really?” she asks.
I nod. “Yeah, you can focus on the adults-only experience. Hot tubs, spas, a bar . . . things like that.”
“That’s really smart.” A large smile crosses her face. “Oh my God, did we just come up with an idea together?”
“Nah.” I wink. “You did. I just offered some support.”
Betty
Curled up on a chair, Post-it notes and a pen in hand, I continue to write down idea after idea while Atlas prepares us a delectable lunch of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
The power hasn’t come back on yet, but Atlas thinks it should be coming back soon.
He says it’s not usually out that long, which has made me realize if Uncle Dwight and I were to open up adults-only cottages, we’d need a solution for the power outages, because that’s a guaranteed way to a one-star review.
Which of course got me thinking, I know nothing about hotel management, and sure they’re not hotels, but they’re similar, just individual cottages.
There’s so much that goes into it that I’m unaware of.
And I’ve made a ton of notes on things that I need to look into when the power is back and I have internet again.
“Why is it so smoky in here?” Atlas asks as he walks in with two plates.
“What do you mean?” I say, looking back at the fire.
“Oh, it’s just your mind working overtime.”
“Oh my God.”
He laughs and sets the plates down on the coffee table, which he brought closer to the couch after we moved the air mattress to the side. “Too cheesy?”
“A little,” I answer and then set my Post-it notes and pen down. When we got back from the farm, I asked if Atlas had anything I could write on, and that’s what he gave me. I thought it was cute, so I used them, even though I was looking for something more along the lines of a notepad.
I take a seat on the couch next to him, and he hands me a plate. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I hope you like—”
The lights flicker, and then the room is illuminated, the Christmas tree in the corner lighting up in a multitude of colors.
Atlas glances around. “Well, looks like the power is back. Maybe I should have waited a second to make lunch. I could have made something a little more appealing.”
I chuckle. “Why, I love peanut butter and jelly. This is great. Thank you.”
The sound of the furnace kicks on, and the entire house seems like it’s in reboot mode as it tries to catch up with the time it has lost being out of power.
“So . . .” he says, chewing on his sandwich. “Do you want some mood music?”
“What kind of mood are you trying to set?” I ask with a raise of my brow.
“A Christmas one.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and presses a few buttons, then from a speaker in the living room somewhere, “White Christmas” by the Drifters starts playing. “How’s that?”
“Perfect.” I turn toward him and cross my legs on the couch. “I know I’ve said it a million times, but thank you for bringing me over here.”
“You’re welcome.”
I nudge him with my foot because I can see that his demeanor changed the moment the lights came back on. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know, was just kind of excited to have you to myself again, but then the stupid lights came on, and I have no excuse to hold you hostage now.”
I laugh. “Oh, is that what this has been the entire time? A hostage situation?”
“A sexy hostage situation.”
“Uh-huh. Does adding sexy make it better?”
“In my head it does.”
I chuckle. “You won’t want me hanging out here, bothering you.”
“Says who?” he asks, looking around. “As far as I see it, I’m good with you just staying here, preferably naked.”
“You know, Atlas, you never struck me as a horny man.”
“Yeah, well, you’re to blame for that.” He takes a bite of his sandwich. “You stuck my hand up your shirt. Therefore, it’s your fault you unlocked this beast.”
“I don’t recall sticking your hand up my shirt.”
His jaw drops, and it makes me laugh. “Uh, let me just go back to the moment when you changed everything between us.” He sets his plate to the side.
“I believe this is how it went. You asked to cuddle. I said yes because I was desperate and needed to be close to you. You turned away, and I spooned you; then you took my hand, put it under your shirt, and asked if it was okay. I said, ‘Uh, yeah,’ because what kind of fool would I be if I said no?”
“I did that because I thought your hand was cold, but you’re the one who caressed my breast.”
“That’s because you put my hand up your shirt. You think I’d lie there and act like my hand needed to be warmed? Fuck no. I was getting a feel in.”
“Either way. You’re horny.”
“So are you! I touched your breasts for a few seconds after you already orgasmed, because I just wanted to tell you how great they were, and then you were like, Don’t stop, and started doing things to my dick I’ve never felt before.” He leans in closer, weirdly examining my mouth.
“What are you doing?” I ask, palming his face and pushing him away.
“Seeing what kind of suction you have on those lips, because it felt like a goddamn vacuum when you were wrapped around me.”
“Oh my God, Atlas.” I shake my head in mirth.
“If awards were given out for hardest suck, you would have won gold.”
“I don’t know if that’s something I should be proud of or not.”
“Yeah,” he says on a sigh. “You should, Betty. You absolutely should.”
“Either way, you’re horny, and I think out of self-preservation, I should go back to my place.” The minute I say the words, I see his entire demeanor fall, like I just told him his puppy died.
“You really want to go back?”
“I mean . . . I don’t want you to get sick of me or anything. We just started . . . doing things,” I say awkwardly. “Don’t you think there should be some separation?”
“Uh, no. I think there should be more connection.”
“I’m being serious, Atlas. There are a lot of moving parts between us, and I just want to make sure that we’re doing this whole thing . . . right. You know? And I don’t want to come off as ungrateful or anything like that—”
“I don’t want you to stay because you think you owe me,” he says, looking insulted.
“No, I wasn’t saying that.”
“I want you to stay because you want to hang out.”
I let out a heavy sigh, knowing I’m not expressing myself the way that I want.
“I do want to hang out with you and not because I feel like I owe you but because I like you. But I also have a lot I need to do in order to prove to Uncle Dwight that I have a better idea than the one he initially thought of. And I have less than a week to do that.”
He nods. “I get it.” He wets his lips. “Can I at least take you out on a date?”
I feel my heart beats quicken. “I hope that you do.”
“Tonight?”
I nod my head. “Tonight. I can meet you in town because I have some things I want to do.”
“I can bring you into town and drop you off, because I need to pick up some supplies and go gush to Cole about a girl that I like.”
I snort and cover my nose. “Oh my God, please tell me you’re really doing that.”
“You don’t know me that well if that’s a question you even have to ask.”
“You’re right. My apologies.”
He leans in and grips my chin with his forefinger and thumb, bringing me in close. “Then it’s a date.” He kisses me gently, and I melt into his touch, letting his lips linger longer than I probably should.