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.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Mila was so absorbed in her project and her Mannheim playlist pouring from her phone that she didn’t hear Cole come in until the couch cushion moved and there he was, sitting next to her minus his hat and coat.
She jumped and grabbed her phone. “Sorry. I’ll?—”
“Don’t.” Moving closer, he closed his hand over hers. “Leave it on.”
“Okay, but I can turn it down.”
He shook his head as he picked up the Santa hat in her lap and set it aside. Then he stood and drew her to her feet. “Will you make love with me?”
“With the music on?”
“Yes.”
Her heart stuttered. He was trying. “But it’s so loud. Wouldn’t you rather?—”
“I want it loud, the way you like it.”
That almost started the waterworks, but she managed to hold them back. Gulping, she nodded. Phone in hand, filling the space with the sounds of Christmas, she walked into the bedroom with him.
She laid it on the bedside table as he closed the doors and came toward her. She started to pull off her sweater.
