8. Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Devon
I slumped into my favorite armchair, exhaling deeply as I closed my eyes. Finally, a moment of peace after the chaos of the festival.
The blissful silence lasted approximately two seconds before my phone buzzed. And buzzed again. And again.
Great. What now?
Frowning, I swiped open the screen to see a flood of notifications. My stomach dropped as I saw Bella’s latest blog post had gone viral. Photos from the festival plastered every corner of the internet, the comment section ablaze with speculation.
“Is Devon Montgomery returning to competition after his crash?”
“OMG, reunion of the century!”
“Hiding out or secret comeback???”
I groaned, rubbing my temples. This was exactly what I’d been trying to avoid by retreating to the guesthouse. So much for lying low. Now, I’d dragged Bella into this mess, too.
My fingers hovered over the screen, tempted to dive into the comments. No, that would bring on a migraine for sure.
Instead, I tossed the phone aside and headed to the kitchen. I needed something to calm my nerves. Coffee and cookies—the ultimate problem-solving duo.
Mug in hand, I wandered back to the living room. Bella was sprawled on the couch, her auburn hair escaping its messy bun as she flipped through sketches. Maple dozed at her feet, paws twitching in some canine dream. The domesticity of the scene made my chest tighten and I couldn’t manage to draw my eyes away.
Bella’s eyes flicked up, a smirk playing on her lips. “Earth to Devon. You’ve been staring into space for five minutes. Did the coffee short-circuit your brain?”
I forced a chuckle, collapsing into the armchair across from her. “Just admiring your, uh, artistic process.” Smooth, Montgomery. Real smooth .
She snorted, quirking an eyebrow. “My ‘artistic process’ involves a lot of eraser shavings and coffee stains. Not exactly glamorous.”
“Hey, I’ve seen your work. Trust me, it’s impressive.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.
A light blush colored her cheeks as she ducked her head. “Thanks. I just hope I can do this place justice.”
My stomach clenched with guilt. If only she knew I was planning to sell.
The shrill ring of my phone cut through the moment. I fished it out of my pocket, Liam’s name flashing on the screen. Perfect timing, as always.
“Sorry, I should take this,” I muttered, already heading for the kitchen.
I answered the call, Liam’s exuberant voice immediately assaulting my ears.
“You’re going viral, man! Dude, everyone’s talking about you and Bella!”
I felt my shoulders tense up. “Yeah, I noticed.”
“This is gold! You’ve got to use this to your advantage—boost your image, sell the guesthouse, and get back in the game.”
His enthusiasm grated on my already frayed nerves. “It’s not that simple, Liam.”
“Sure it is! Strike while the iron’s hot, ya know? My realtor friend posted the guesthouse, but your name isn’t anywhere on it. “
I glanced back towards the living room, where Bella was humming softly to herself as she worked. The sight made something in my chest ache.
I cut him off. “Look, Liam, I appreciate the help and the advice, but I need to think things through.”
“All right, all right. Just don’t overthink it, yeah? You’ve got a golden opportunity here.”
I ended the call, my chest tight with guilt. How could I keep using Bella like this? She deserved better.
The walls of the kitchen suddenly felt suffocating. I needed air—space to clear my head.
“Hey, Bella?” I called out, grabbing my jacket from the hook by the door. “I’m heading out for a bit.”
She appeared in the doorway, a concerned furrow between her brows. “Everything okay?”
I forced a smile. “Yeah, just need some fresh air.”
The crisp winter air hit me like a slap to the face as I stepped outside. I took a deep breath, letting the cold fill my lungs. It did little to calm the storm brewing inside me.
As I trudged through the snow-covered yard, I glanced in the living room window. My parents had always cut their Christmas tree and put it there. I recalled Bella mentioning wanting to decorate a tree. If I couldn’t sort out my feelings, I could at least do something nice for her.
I went into the shed and found the old axe, hoping the old pickup truck would still start. I jumped in and put the key in the ignition. It sputtered, but then the engine roared to life. I drove towards the woods at the edge of the property.
I saw the perfect tree. Parked. Jumped out. Grabbed my axe. Time to release some frustration.
The axe bit into the tree trunk with a satisfying thunk . I wiped sweat from my brow, my breath puffing out in white clouds as I swung again. Each strike sent my thoughts spinning.
Thunk . Bella’s infectious laugh echoing through the guesthouse.
Thunk . The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her design plans.
Thunk . The growing knot in my stomach every time I thought about selling this place.
I paused, leaning on the axe handle. What are you doing, Montgomery? Was I really going to keep stringing Bella along, knowing that this blog project would ultimately help sell the house she was so passionate about fixing up?
The tree creaked, teetering on its stump. I gave it one final push, watching as it toppled into the snow with a muffled thud. Hoisting the tree onto my shoulder, I trudged back to the truck. The scent of pine needles filled my nose, bringing back memories of Christmases past. Mom’s sugar cookies, Dad’s terrible jokes, the warmth of family and home.
I shook my head, pushing the memories aside. I was trying to escape the past, not dwell on it. I strapped the tree down and headed back to the guesthouse.
I lugged the tree inside, leaving a trail of pine needles in my wake.
Bella’s eyes widened, a grin spreading across her face as she jumped up from the table. “You actually did it!” she exclaimed, practically bouncing on her toes.
I couldn’t help but smile back, even as I felt that familiar tug in my chest. “Well, you said this place needed a tree, right? Can’t have Christmas without a tree to decorate... or so I’ve been told.”
Bella circled the tree, her fingers trailing over the branches. “This is perfect for the decorating plans I’m working on. We can do a whole blog post on it!”
I found myself nodding—even now, I seemed to lose all rational thinking when it came to her. “Whatever you need, Bells. I’m at your decorating disposal.”
As she rattled off ideas for ornaments and garlands, I ignored the warmth spreading through my chest. This was dangerous territory. The more I indulged in these moments with her, the harder it would be to let go when the time came.
Bella’s hands flew to her hips, determination etched across her freckled face. “Alright, Montgomery, time to put those muscles to work. Let’s get this tree set up!”
I quirked an eyebrow. “I thought I’d done my part with the lumberjack routine. Isn’t that enough manual labor for one day?”
She rolled her eyes, a smirk playing at her lips. “The fun’s just beginning. Now, hold it steady while I grab my camera. We’re going to document this for posterity... and my followers.”
Before I could protest, Bella dashed off, returning with her tripod and vlogging setup. I watched, bemused, as she fiddled with the settings, her tongue poking out in concentration.
“Okay, let’s film this!” She clapped her hands together in excitement. “We’ll start with the lights. Any objections to being my glamorous assistant?”
I folded my arms, fighting a grin. “Fine. But I draw the line at wearing a sparkly elf costume.”
As we strung lights around the tree, Bella slipped effortlessly into her blogger persona, narrating tips about even distribution and color temperature. I found myself oddly fascinated by this side of her—confident, professional, yet still utterly Bella.
“And remember, folks,” she chirped, “when in doubt, add more lights!”
I gave her a sidelong glance. “Is that your solution to everything?”
She winked at the camera. “Works for design dilemmas and life problems alike. Feeling down? Add more twinkle lights!”
I chuckled, shaking my head as I wrestled with a particularly tangled strand of lights. “I’m not sure your electric bill would agree with that philosophy.”
“Details, details.” Bella waved a hand dismissively, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Now, pass me that box of ornaments, would you?”
I obliged, handing her a weathered cardboard box filled with glittering baubles. Our fingers brushed as she took it, sending a jolt of electricity through my arm. I quickly pulled back, focusing intently on adjusting a crooked strand of lights. Pull it together, Montgomery .
At first, I felt awkward in front of the camera, thinking about thousands of people watching us. It was my first time decorating without my parents, but as Bella tossed ornaments at me, her laughter filled the room, and I couldn’t help but enjoy it. Maple danced around, wagging her tail, fully immersed in the festive spirit.
After hanging the final ornament, we both stepped back to admire the tree. Bella sighed happily, leaning her head on my shoulder, and I froze. The familiar pull between us was back, stronger than ever. Her eyes locked with mine, and before I could stop myself, I was leaning in, her lips just inches from mine.
Boom —suddenly, the lights flickered, and everything went dark. Bella gasped, and Maple let out a bark from somewhere in the room.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered under my breath, already moving towards where I knew the fuse box to be. My mind raced. What had I been thinking? And more importantly, what would have happened if the lights hadn’t gone out?
“Maybe we overloaded the circuit with all those lights,” Bella said, her laughter echoing through the darkened room. “I guess the universe doesn’t approve of our decorating skills.”
I fumbled along the wall, my fingers searching for the familiar outline of the fuse box. “Careful,” I warned, hearing Bella’s footsteps behind me. “There’s an–”
“Oof!” A soft thud followed by a giggle told me she’d found the ottoman with her shin.
“–ottoman,” I finished lamely, biting back a grin. “You okay?”
“Just peachy,” Bella quipped. “Nothing like a little furniture wrestling in the dark to really get you in the Christmas spirit.”
Our shoulders brushed as she leaned in, peering at the fuse box. Her proximity made it hard to concentrate. I flipped the main switch, acutely aware of how close she was standing.
Nothing happened.
“Huh,” Bella mused, tapping her finger against her lips. “I guess we really did a number on it.”
I tried again, my fingers trembling slightly. Was it the chill in the air, or the lingering tension from our almost-kiss?
Suddenly, the lights blazed back to life. We both blinked, momentarily dazed by the sudden brightness. As my eyes adjusted, I found myself staring directly into Bella’s.
“I guess that’s the universe’s way of telling us we’re not quite ready for that,” she said, her voice a little breathless.
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Yeah, I guess so.” But even as I said it out loud, I wondered if I believed it.
Bella’s gaze lingered on mine for a moment longer before she turned away, busying herself with petting a startled Maple. “So,” she said, her voice overly cheerful. “Hot chocolate? I think we’ve earned it after our harrowing adventure in the dark.”
I nodded, grateful for the distraction. “Sounds perfect. I’ll even throw in some marshmallows if you promise to remove a few lights from the tree.”
As I followed her to the kitchen, I couldn’t shake the feeling that we’d crossed some invisible line tonight. And I wasn’t sure I had the strength—or the desire—to step back over it.