“I’mdistracted. But yeah, let’s, uh, talk about those rapscallions. How old are they now?”
“Three.”
“Three. Great, they’re going to be upearlyon Christmas morning.” He glances sideways. “Are you ready to wake up early, since you agreed that we could sleep on the couches tomorrow night?”
“It seemed like a reasonable ask,” I mutter, slightly annoyed that he’s changed the subject away from flirting. Not that Iwantto flirt with him, exactly, but it was fun. “But is this really what you want to think about right now?”
Silence.
Then a groan, and that beautiful sound is the permission I need to say something truly reckless.
“Or would you rather think about how you taught me to grind on your thigh in this tru?—”
“Come on.”
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” But I’m not. I’m turned on and aching.
“Two can play at that game.” He gives me a hooded glare. “I mean, if we’re going to think about memories that we made in this truck, we should get it right. I didn’t teach you anything. We taught each other, maybe. Like when you wanted to jerk me off, but we didn’t know whatto do with the mess, so you just brought me to the edge over and over again, and then we stopped, and I went home and looked up if that was a thing because it was hot and then it turned out it was called edging, and you thought that was the funniest thing ever.”
“Oh my God,” I whisper. “I’d forgotten about that. That was…”
I trail off, a pang of longing shooting through my core. Because I can’t say what I’m thinking.
That was amazing. And so out of reach for us now.
He takes a big gulp of hot chocolate and exhales. “Yeah.”
“We had a lot of good times in this truck.” I fan myself as the traffic in front of us suddenly eases. The moment is broken, and Garrett has to focus on driving again, because people are walking into the road all over the place.
I focus on the lit-up houses on my side of the road.
My sister’s home is just ahead, and it’s the only one not lit up like something right out of a Christmas movie. The pang in my chest twists into concern, and I file that away for later.
Jake and Dani’s house is set further back from the road, down a long lane decorated with candy canes. Solar lights dot a separate pathway “to Santa’s workshop”, and people stream up and down it, but the lane itself is clear for our truck to pull up in front of the open garage.
Jake crosses to greet us with a big grin, a handshake for Garrett, and a warm hug for me. “Did you guys get roped into delivery duty right after arriving, or what?”
“We got fed dinner first, it’s all good.” Garrett gestures to the back of the truck. “You having a Christmas tree emergency?”
Jake laughs. But then his face turns serious, and hemakes careful eye contact with me. “Full disclosure, I think Dani was hoping Cassie would deliver them.”
My heart thumps against my ribs. “Is Nate here?”
He shakes his head. “No.No. She wouldn’t do that. She just wanted to see Cassie, but with all of this, she couldn’t get away to come over to the farm. Nate’s, uh, taken off for the holidays.”
“What?”
He raises his hands. “Don’t shoot the messenger. He left after they fought. So if Cassie wants to come home…”
“And be alone?” I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t think so. She’s staying at the farm.”
“Okay, okay.”
His wife comes flying out of the house, a baby in a fleece bunting suit on her hip. “I’m so sorry I was inside. Hi Garrett,” she adds breathlessly before enveloping me in a tight hug. “So good to see you, Rory. How was the drive?”
“Fine, but a shock to arrive to a crying sister. What do you know?”
“Not much.” Dani passes her child to Jake. “Come on, I’ll help with the trees and we can talk.”
