“No buts. I’m the videographer, not the date. That was the deal. Rule number three, remember? And today’s rule about only allowingoneexception to that rule?”
I raised my hands in surrender. “Fine. Just trying to keep things simple.”
Maya coughed something that sounded suspiciously like “missed opportunity.”
Maddox ignored her. “We’ll meet Wednesday at nine at the Pinecone to coordinate. Emerson’s Christmas Tree Farm opens at ten, and your date—a local firefighter named Marco—will meet us there.” He emphasized the name as if daring the universe to interfere again. “I’ll confirm again before I go to bed tonight.”
“Sounds perfect,” I said, gathering my things while trying not to think of Maddox Sullivan in bed. “Nine it is.”
As we left the lodge, Maya fell into step beside me while Maddox walked ahead, texting furiously—presumably still trying to reach Alex.
“For what it’s worth,” she said quietly, “I think your followers are going to love what we got.”
“Thanks.” And that was my only purpose here, so nothing else mattered anyway. At least, that’s what I told myself as I tried unsuccessfully to tear my gaze away from Maddox’s retreating figure.
I watched Maddox’s ass as he leaned over to put his equipment into their truck and found myself replaying our conversation by the fire—the unexpected depth beneath Maddox’s gruff exterior, the way his eyes had lit up when talking about his grandmother’s hot chocolate.
For the first time since arriving in Legacy, I felt myself relax a little. Even when things went wrong, they seemed to work out okay. So far, we’d managed to avert a crisis at every turn.
And averting a crisis with Maddox Sullivan wasn’t so bad. In fact, spending time staring at him across the table while his face softened into memory or tightened in challenge had actually been pretty amazing.
I quickly pushed that thought aside.You’re here for content,Adrian.Nordique.Career trajectory, remember? Not about gawping over pretty assholes. Remember what Vic said, and don’t fuck this up.
But as I watched Maddox help Maya into the passenger seat, his strong hands moving with surprising gentleness, I couldn’t help but wonder if Legacy, Montana, might offer me more than pretty pictures after all.
#WhippedCreamOnTheNose #ReluctantlyAuthentic #TouchTheCashmereAgain #EyeCrinkleKryptonite
6
#UNPLANNEDCHEMISTRY
MADDOX
How wasit possible to be both proud of your work product and also horrified by it?
I sat in my studio above the gallery, rewatching the reels I’d sent Adrian for the fourth time, ignoring the morning light that filtered through the large windows and the usual clutter in my crowded workspace. Photos lined the walls, mostly candid shots from around Legacy: Ravi Menon teaching his wife to ski, Jade Cleary and her prized tomatoes in the summer sun, Maya laughing at last year’s Christmas parade.
But right now, my attention was fixed on my monitor where Adrian Hayes sat bathed in firelight, his perfect face animated as he described the “notes of complexity” in the orange and dark chocolate cocoa. The way the light caught his features was almost unfair—all elegant angles and warm shadows that made him look like he’d been designed specifically for cameras to love him.
There’d also been moments I hadn’t noticed until I’d gone through the footage. Like the odd little moment in which he tugged nervously at his sleeve cuff after I’d mentioned familytradition or the curious way he’d stared at my eyes when he’d mentioned the specific mossy-green option for the sweater.
“Fuck,” I muttered, replaying it to analyze our interaction again.
The chemistry was undeniable. Even through the lens, you could see the spark between us—the way our banter flowed naturally, how his polished persona cracked whenever I managed to genuinely surprise him, the brief moments when his mask slipped to reveal something more real.
Like when he’d reached out to wipe that damn whipped cream off my nose.
I paused the footage on that moment, cursing under my breath. His expression had been completely unguarded then—warm, amused, almost tender. It was the kind of authentic moment he claimed to want… and exactly the kind of footage that would have our small town’s matchmakers working overtime.
My phone buzzed with another text from Maya:
Maya
You’re seeing it, right? Holy shit, Maddie. You two look amazing together. The way you smiled when he?—
I didn’t bother reading the rest. My sister had been insufferable since yesterday, alternating between teasing me about Adrian and asking if she could come to our next date—er,shoot.
My phone buzzed again before I could set it down.
