As I’d waited for my coffee to brew, I got a text notification from today’s scheduled “date.”
Reid Bullock
Sorry, man. Can’t do the video thing at the reservoir today. Something came up.
I closed my eyes and groaned before sucking in a breath as another text came in. This time, it was from the grump.
Maddox
Storm now expected within a few hours.
I gritted my teeth, imagining being stuck in this small cabin all day by myself.
Any chance I can run into town to grab the stand and some lights and decorations?
Wasn’t sure how I’d get the tree in the stand and into the cabin alone, but apparently, I’d have plenty of time to try.
Maddox
I’m already on my way with everything.
I blinked and reread the message before responding.
You’re bringing the stuff here? Now?
Maddox
Told you I would.
The coffee maker gurgled as I watched dark clouds gathering strength on the horizon. My phone chimed with a weather alert. I was just beginning to wonder if Maddox should turn back home when his truck appeared in my driveway, tires crunching through fresh powder.
My heart did a stupid flip in my chest. I took a steadying breath and opened the door before he could knock.
“You didn’t need to come,” I said by way of greeting.
Maddox held up the tree stand and grunted, “Couldn’t leave you hanging after I made you a promise.” His eyes met mine for a split second before darting away, a muscle in his jaw twitching.
There was an awkward moment as he stepped past me into the cabin, his body angling carefully to avoid any accidental contact, like I might burn him if we touched. The air between us felt charged, like the static before lightning strikes.
“Coffee?” I offered, my voice sounding too loud in the sudden silence.
“Sure.” His eyes swept over the interior of the cabin, lingering on the rumpled throw blanket on the couch where I’d spent my sleepless night before returning to me. “Where do you want this?”
“Uh, what do you think about here, in front of the window? It’ll be nice to see the lights through the window as you drive up.”
After a few minutes, we fell into a comfortable rhythm, discussing placement options. It was casual. Safe. No mention of the destruction of his vaunted Rule Three, yesterday’s body-to-body tackle, or the heated moment in the snow that followed.
Wrangling the enormous tree inside was another story.
“On three,” Maddox instructed, gripping his end of the trunk. “One, two—” The tree caught on the doorframe, sending a shower of needles cascading over us both. “Shit!”
I couldn’t help laughing as pine needles decorated his hair like nature’s own confetti. “Very festive,” I teased, reaching out to brush some from his shoulder before catching myself. My hand froze midair, and we both pretended not to notice.
By the time we had it upright in the stand, we were both breathing hard, pine needles clinging to our clothes and hair.
“Hold it steady,” Maddox instructed, dropping to his knees to tighten the bolts on the stand.
I gripped the trunk, acutely aware of him positioned beneath the tree, his capable hands working quickly. The domesticity ofthe moment—us decorating a tree together like a couple—made my chest tighten with a longing I hadn’t expected.
