Chapter 8
Chapter eight
We’ve been inseparable since landing on the naughty list together, but between my schedule, the launch of the new version of the Summit Sentinel Pager, and Tanner’s job as a lineman, keeping the power on with his brothers, during winter in Montana, we haven’t had time to visit his family until now, the week before Christmas.
As much as I want to be with him for the holiday, I’ll be heading to Florida to celebrate with my parents, so this is a treat.
“Prepare yourself. This is mom’s warm up Christmas dinner. She does a dry run every year to practice new recipes.” He chuckles. “But we pretty much end up having the same meal every year, not that I’m complaining. Christmas isn’t the same without her turkey and rosemary garlic mashed potatoes.”
The moment I walk into Mrs. Stone’s sprawling mountain home, warmth and mouthwatering smells of roasted turkey, garlic and something cinnamon-sweet envelopes me in a cozy hug.
Tanner has his hand at the small of my back.
He touches me constantly, especially when we’re around others.
The gesture is casual but deliberate, as if he’s staking a claim, and I love how affectionate and possessive he is.
I still can’t even believe what’s happening between us.
It’s been so easy, as though we were always meant to be; and just waiting for the planets to align.
I never imagined there was a man out there who would be happy with a frisky, independent, no B.S., nerd like me. But Tanner says he’s crazy about who I am, exactly the way I am and hasn’t tried to change me.
The foyer opens into a living space with vaulted ceilings and a river-rock fireplace that crackles with a roaring fire. Boots and coats are piled by the door, and laughter spills from the living room. Tanner squeezes my waist. “Ready?” I nod, but my stomach flips.
I’ve already met everyone at the Mistletoe Gala events, but being invited to dinner feels different, and important, even if he insists it’s no big deal. He takes my coat, hangs it on an elk antler peg, and steers me further into the room.
Clara’s the first to spot us. “Come in, honey! I’m so glad you’re here.” She wraps me in a hug. “You’re just in time to help decorate the tree.” She ushers me into the room with a dramatic sweep of her hand. “Welcome to Santa’s workshop.”
She isn’t kidding. The Stone family Christmas tree is an enormous noble fir that almost brushes the log beams overhead.
It’s strung with those fat multicolored bulbs you can only find in antique stores.
The warm twinkly lights look like mini stars.
Below it a train cruises past a tiny village tooting its horn.
“I think it needs a few more of these.” Clara grabs a wicker basket filled with homemade popcorn and cranberry garlands and sets it on the coffee table. “Excuse me sweetheart, I need to check the turkey.”
“No problem, I think Tanner and I can handle this.”
“Piece of cake,” he says, grabbing a strand, and winding it around a thick burgundy and gold velvet ribbon.
“Did you see this masterpiece?” He points to a silly grinning felt elf, obviously glued by a child, perched on a branch close to the top.
“I made it in kindergarten, and she still has it.” He laughs.
“A man of many, many talents,” I tease, still blown away by the work Clara puts into decorating.
Every windowsill holds a flickering battery candle in a brass holder probably older than the house itself.
There’s a fresh balsam wreath packed with real oranges and cinnamon sticks hanging above the mantel.
Right next to the fireplace, a plugged-in dancing Santa ho-ho-hos and wiggles his hips every time Tanner walks past it.
I’ve never wanted to belong somewhere more in my life.
I dig into the basket and pull out a garland, as his oldest brother Zephyr walks into the room carrying two steaming mugs. “I come bearing spiked cocoa.”
“Thanks.” Tanner takes a drink out of his hand and passes it to me. Zephyr breaks into a grin, giving his brother a hug. “Thought you’d keep your partner in crime hidden forever.” Then he pivots to me. “Winter. Nice to see you without that silly elf hat. Welcome to the chaos.”
Now that the two brothers are side by side, I see Zephyr’s taller than Tanner by a few inches and a bit broader through the shoulders, but in my humble opinion, Tanner is by far the most handsome, and his blue eyes are icing on the cake.
Sierra joins us with a grin. “Ignore the testosterone. I’m happy Tanner brought you here. We didn’t have time to talk at the gala. C’mon, we were all in the kitchen, but now Mom wants us in the dining room, pronto.”
She winks, then loops her arm through mine as if we’ve known each other forever and escorts me.
Gideon and Jude are already at the table, arguing over something.
They’re younger and I don’t know them very well, but they both stand when they see me.
Gideon offers a shy nod; Jude flashes his dimples and starts to pull out my chair, before Tanner steps in with, “I’ve got this.
” I take a seat, and he bends behind me, giving me a quick peck on the cheek.
Slade and Eva are across from us at a gorgeously set table, with a centerpiece of red and white roses, and candles everywhere.
I’m guessing the antique dishes must’ve been passed down through the years.
The patterns on the plates don’t match. Some have wintery scenes, others have Santa faces and sleds, but all together, the effect is stunning.
It takes a while to situate all the bowls and platters of food, and my stomach grumbles the whole time. I didn’t have a chance to eat lunch and I’m starving.
When all the plates are filled, and Zephyr’s quick toast to the holidays is over, everyone digs in. Everyone except Creed who crosses his arms and says, “Okay, I’ve got big news. Blind Date for Life is filming here in Passion Pines for Valentine’s Day.”
Sierra gasps. “You mean the mail-order bride people?”
My heart sinks. Tanner and I have already heard the bad news. It’s all over town. He tried to break it to Creed before it became public but he wouldn’t listen.
“Technically they’re a matchmaking service,” Eva corrects, grinning at Slade.
“They matched me and this grumpy bear.” She nudges her husband, who grunts but can’t hide the softness in his eyes.
“Can you imagine? We were exes. But we had one of those second-chance, fairy-tale endings. Apparently, some production company got wind of our story and loved it so much they’re turning it into a reality show.
Imagine four singles, winter challenges, romantic dates in the snow, and you’ll get the picture.
Think Bachelor meets Survivor, but with hot cocoa. ”
Tanner’s hand finds my knee under the table, and strokes it with his thumb. I lean into him, savoring the solid warmth of his shoulder against mine. Creed still hasn’t touched his food, and Clara notices. “Creed, honey, are you alright? You’re whiter than those spuds.”
He plays with his fork and takes a deep breath. “Lyssa signed up.” The table goes still as the antique grandfather clock counts down the silence.
Eva’s eyes widen. “Your Lyssa?”
Creed purses his lips. “There’s only one. I got an email confirmation this morning from a friend who knows the producers. She’s contestant number four.” He laughs bitterly. “Guess she’s ready to find her forever after all.”
Fortunately, the mood shifts and we move into lighter topics, and what feels like forced laughter.
But what do I know about Creed and Lyssa?
I’m happily oblivious to most of the drama, but I do, however realize Tanner has been bragging about how I designed the Summit Sentinel non-stop to his brothers because they keep asking me about it.
I’ve promised them betas of the newest iteration, but they can’t wait for the official version.
After having a second serving of chocolate cream pie, we finally say our goodbyes, with our Tupperware leftovers in hand.
When we step outside, we find Creed on the porch, staring up at the stars as if he’s searching for answers.
Tanner pats his shoulder. “You don’t have to watch the show, brother. ”
Creed’s voice is rough. “Maybe you should. You could be in for a surprise.”
The drive back to Tanner’s house is quiet. I spend most of the time daydreaming about the Christmas tree Tanner and I ended up moving into his bedroom because we spend so much time there. We still haven’t decorated it. Maybe we should make some of those popcorn garlands?
Inside, the cabin is dark except for the glowing embers in the fireplace. He locks the door, kicks off his boots, and turns to me with a look of pure, unfiltered desire. “Bedtime is coming early,” he promises in a gravelly voice. “Can’t have you being late for work.”
I rise up on my toes, and brush my lips over his. “I’m working from home tomorrow, so we have all the time we need.”
“If that’s the case, what are we waiting for?” He lifts me clear off the floor, and I wrap my arms around his neck, giggling, as he carries me to the bedroom like I weigh nothing. “Careful, Winter,” he growls against my throat. “I might never let you leave.”
I laugh, cutting him off with a kiss. “Promise?”
“I do, and I’ll prove it to you, but I’m the boss tonight. You’re only getting it fast and hard when I’m ready to fill you.” He kicks the door shut behind us. The room is all shadows and moonlight as he sets me down on the edge of the mattress as if I could break.
“Boss, huh?” I ask, already unbuttoning his shirt. “Prove it.”
“Winter.” He chuckles, shrugging his shirt off, and the starlight paints every ridge of his broad shoulders, pecs, his toned abs, the little scars on his chest, and the dark hair dusting down to the waistband of his jeans. I want to trace every mark the war left on him with my tongue.