Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cole fetched the groceries and put them away while Mila started on the Santa hats. Leaving fresh produce in the truck would have been a disaster in the summer, but in December with the temperature dropping and a storm coming in, those veggies were fine.
She kept working while he fixed them a couple of turkey sandwiches. She’d made good progress by the time she put the hats aside to have some lunch.
“It won’t take much longer.” She slid onto a stool. “Thanks for making these. Do I smell apple cider?”
“I warmed it up. Figured that would go better with it looking so wintry outside.”
“Great idea.”
He set down two steaming mugs. “I didn’t bring up the toys. Should I?”
“It makes more sense to take them over to Adam’s. He and Tracy are the ones who’ll wrap them. He’s going to want to reimburse you.”
“He can try but he won’t succeed.” He took the stool next to her and picked up his phone. “I’d better see if they’re home and do it after we eat. Judging from the clouds, the snow could start anytime.” He sent a quick text before turning back to his sandwich.
She gestured toward the windows. “I’ve never been up here when it’s snowing. Do you pull down the blinds or leave them up?”
“I usually leave them up so I can watch it fall, unless it’s a blizzard. But I’m here alone, so there’s nothing to see but me walking around.”
“If it’s snowing, nobody will be outside peering up at your windows so it doesn’t matter what’s going on.” She bit into her sandwich.
“Oh, I dunno about that. Adam’s cabin’s on a rise and so’s Rio’s Swiss chalet. If they wanted to, they could see right into this loft.”
“But they’d need binoculars.”
“Or a telescope. Like the one Rio has.”
“That’s right, he does have one. I don’t think he’d use it to spy on us but I wouldn’t swear to it. So we’ll just make sure we keep our clothes on.”
“Or pull down the blinds. If I have a choice between watching snow or your beautiful body, it’s no contest.”
“You won’t have to choose. As I’ve already mentioned, I’m not the type to prance around the house naked even with the blinds down. As I recall, neither are you.”
“Not normally, but now that I have you up here, I’m ready to try different venues. The couch would be fun. Closer to the fireplace.”
She laughed. “You have a one-track mind.”
“And you don’t?”
“I’m focused on the Santa hats.”
He nudged her knee with his. “Not that focused. When I mentioned the couch your eyes sparkled.” His phone pinged and he picked it up. “They’re home. He said it’s good timing, so I’ll take the toys over after we finish eating.”
“Have you ever been in their cabin?”
“No, I guess not.”
“It’s cozy. My dad built it to coax my great-grandma Lucy to move out of the Victorian in town and come live on the ranch with us. It’s modeled on the one she grew up in.”
“I really wish I’d known your dad.” Hell, he wished he’d met them all years ago, especially Mila.
“Luis and I talked about that last night. We both regret that you and Jordan missed out. And now there’s Liberty, who won’t ever know her grandpa.”
“I’ll bet he’s sad about that.”
“He is, but then he said—” She stopped abruptly and dropped her gaze. “I’m an idiot.”
“He said he was an idiot?”
“No. Never mind.” She looked up. “You should get going. The storm could hit early and you’d be stuck there.”
“Not a chance. What did Luis say?”
“Something you don’t need to hear.”
“Mila.”
She looked miserable. “Please don’t take this to heart.”
“I can’t promise that. Just tell me.”
“He said that he didn’t feel so bad about Liberty not getting to meet her grandpa now that you and I are together.”
“I don’t follow.”
“If Dad had lived, we wouldn’t have needed to hire you. You wouldn’t be living here, which means this—” She gestured around the loft. “Wouldn’t have happened. Chances are we wouldn’t have happened.”
He was stunned.
“See why I didn’t want to tell you?”
“Did you mention we’re not exactly a done deal?” This was why he never should have kissed her. He’d fudging known it could screw up everybody and everything.
“No. I should have, but I—”
“It’s okay. I wouldn’t have, either.”
“Listen, if it doesn’t work out for us, you’ll still be here. We’ll still be friends. It won’t be the end of the world.”
He gazed at her. She could say that all day long and maybe she believed it. He didn’t. What they’d shared was too intense. Casual friendship wasn’t in the cards.
But it could snow any minute and he had toys to deliver. He sucked in a breath. “Do you have Christmas music on your phone?”
“Doesn’t everybody?” Then she winced. “Sorry. Yes, I do.”
“Then please play it while you’re working on the Santa hats. I didn’t think of it before, but if you turn on Mannheim Steamroller when you make fudge with Claudie, it stands to reason you’d like to do it while you’re sewing those hats.”
“I will, at least while you’re gone.”
“And even when I get back.”
“We’ll see.”
“I’m serious.” Leaning over, he gave her a quick kiss. Then he picked up their empty plates and carried them to the kitchen counter.
“Leave those. I just saw a few flakes.”
“Okay. I’m outta here.” Grabbing his coat and hat, he put them on as he headed out the door.
By the time he was halfway down the steps, a jazzed up version of Joy to the World made it through his soundproofing. She must’ve turned that sucker up to rock concert volume.
The peppy rendition was unlike anything he’d heard before, which meant his visceral reaction was mild. Pausing on the steps, he let himself listen to the energetic sound that Mila loved so much.
He pictured her working on the hat project while she absorbed the dramatic music. Its vibrancy suited her. Could he blend his passion for her into that spirited sound? It was an idea.
The music faded as he reached the bottom of the steps. Fetching the plastic sack of toys, he slung them over his shoulder and set off, lengthening his stride. He could smell the snow.
Flakes drifted down, melting as they landed on his cheeks. He walked faster across the hard-packed yard, passing the mini-hacienda and the steep hill leading up to Rio’s A-frame.
Adam and Tracy’s log cabin sat on a rise, too. The path was a few yards beyond the one leading to Rio’s place. Multicolored lights of a Christmas tree shone through the front window and cedar smoke drifted from the chimney.
The clouds darkened the sky enough for everyone’s Christmas lights to come on, transforming the landscape. A memory surfaced — walking home from a friend’s house in December. He must’ve been around nine.
All the neighbors had lights up and a decorated tree in the front window. Every house but his. He’d considered going back to his buddy’s place and asking if they’d adopt him. But he couldn’t do that to Jordie, so he’d kept going.
He glanced over at the loft. No lights and no tree in the window, but Mila was in there making Santa hats and listening to cranked up Christmas music. Progress?
When he used the horseshoe knocker on the cabin’s sturdy wooden door, Tracy opened it, her red hair piled in a haphazard style on top of her head. Cute.
She grinned “Well, hel-lo, Santa!”
That threw him until he remembered the sack of toys over his shoulder. He managed a smile. “Have you been a good little girl?”
“Heck, no. Where’s the fun in that? Come on in. I have hot chocolate on the stove.”
“Of course you do.” Also a cheerful fire, carols playing, and the living room littered with rolls of wrapping paper and ribbons. He was in Christmas hell.
“Hey, buddy!” Adam, wearing a sweatshirt with Rudolph on the front, came toward him, hand outstretched. “You have no idea how grateful I am that you picked up the last of the toys. The snowstorm could’ve thrown a spanner in the works.”
“I’m glad Mila and I got ’er done.” He shook Adam’s hand and gave him the bag.
“You’d better have a receipt in your pocket.”
“Afraid not. Consider it a donation to the cause.”
Adam held his gaze. “It’ll be easy for me to estimate what you spent. It’s not chicken feed.”
“I wanted to do it. I know what it’s like to be a kid whose parents are…” He cleared his throat. “Struggling.”
“Alrighty, then.” Emotion flickered in his eyes. “I’m much obliged.”
Cole recognized that look. He used to get it all the time as a kid. “Listen, I’d better—”
“Whipped cream or marshmallows?” Tracy called from the kitchen.
“You know what? I appreciate the offer but I should probably shove off. The snow—”
“It’ll do the lazy flake thing for a while,” Adam said. “If you won’t take a check, at least drink some hot chocolate. You won’t regret it.”
He could refuse and ruin the moment or accept and employ his survival skills. He raised his voice. “Whipped cream, please. Thanks, Tracy.”
As he took off his hat and coat, he breathed in the scent of that hot chocolate. By focusing on the sweet drink and the two kind people in the cabin, he’d make it through.