“Anyway, I’m really sorry to bother you again,” Ruby says, straightening up from North to look at me. “I was trying to open a window in the kitchen and the latch broke.” She grimaces. “Totally my fault for trying to force it open. I can pay you back for any damage…but now I can’t get it to close, and it’s letting all the cold air inside.”
There’s something so damn hypnotic about her sweet little voice. I could listen to her talk about something as dull as a broken window latch all day. Hell, she could read me the dictionary from start to finish and I’d be fucking riveted.
“I’ll come take a look. Just let me grab my tools.”
“Thank you.” She smiles at me, her freckled cheeks dimpling.
Fuck, she’s so adorable.
“Can North come, too?” she adds when I reemerge from the cabin with my tool belt on my hips.
“Sure.”
The three of us descend the porch steps and head into the woods, our breath forming clouds of mist in front of us. Snowcrunches beneath our feet, a few tiny flakes still drifting down through the canopies. North is showing off for Ruby, making her laugh. His tail wags as he leaps around the trees, digging at the snow and jumping into drifts, looking back at us for approval. But right now, all my attention is on the woman beside me. We’re walking close together, and the space between us feels like a red-hot danger zone, making my skin prickle with heat despite the freezing weather. When her side accidentally brushes mine, I feel my jaw clench tight.
Goddammit, what is happening to me?
“It’s so beautiful out here,” Ruby says wistfully. “I still can’t get used to the snow…how pretty it makes everything look.”
“Guessing it doesn’t snow much where you’re from?”
“Nope. Not at all.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see her tip her head back and catch a snowflake on her tongue. “I live in Miami.”
Her words hit me like a slap in the face. Miami. This girl lives over two-thousand miles away. Hell, it feels even further than that. Florida seems like a whole different planet to Cherry Mountain.
“It did actually snow in Miami once,” Ruby continues. “I googled it. There was a freak weather event back in the seventies,waaaybefore I was born.”
Another slap. I was born in the seventies. Sure, it was late ’79, but still. Another reminder that this pretty little angel is at least twenty years my junior. Not that any of this should matter to me. So what if the girl staying in my rental cabin is half my age? So what if she lives in Florida? She’s a stranger, and she’ll be out of here in less than a week.
“What brings you to Cherry Mountain?” I ask, trying to ignore the hollow pang in my chest.
“I’m visiting my brother for the holidays. I stayed in his cabin for a couple of weeks, but it got a little cramped, so I booked yourrental instead.” She grins at me. “I’m really glad I did. This place is perfect for the holidays. I went to Cherry Hollow yesterday and everything just felt so…festive!”
“Too damn festive if you ask me,” I mutter.
The words are out before I can stop them, my bad mood seeping out like an icy chill in the air.
“Huh. So you’re not a fan of the holidays?” Ruby asks.
“No. Can’t stand this time of year.” My leg twinges, almost in agreement, pain pinching my thigh.
“Really? How come?”
“Feels fake to me. Like people are putting on a show.” I leave it there. I shouldn’t start ranting to this sweet angel about my lack of festive cheer—she must already think I’m a miserable old grump.
Ruby looks thoughtful. “Maybe some people are pretending. But I don’t think the holidays are the problem…it’s more the expectations around them. The pressure to spend money or to force cheer. But if you resist all those pressures, then I think Christmas can be whatever you want it to be. That’s why it’s my favorite time of year.”
The warmth and passion in her voice thaw my heart a little.
“Glad you like it so much. Don’t let an old Grinch like me ruin your holiday spirit.”
Ruby grins. “You might still find your festive cheer. It’s not Christmas just yet…there’s still time for you to become a reformed Grinch.”
I let out a noncommittal humph. “Don’t know about that, Candy Cane.”
Her eyes glitter. “Candy Cane?”
Damn, where’d that come from?
