I moved to stand, but his hand shot out, his grip firm around my wrist, grounding me.
“Wait.” His voice was rough. “Let me put something on your hands first.”
He didn’t let go. Instead, he carefully uncapped the little tube and smoothed the ointment over the raw blisters. His touch was gentle, his thumb brushing just a little too long over my skin. My breath caught, and for a second, I forgot about the pain in my leg entirely.
I pushed past it and stood anyway, my leg throbbing from the movement. I wobbled, but his arm hovered near me, not touching but close enough that the heat from his body burned. I needed to put some distance between us.
I made it to the kitchen, to where the Crock-Pot had been humming quietly all day, cooking one of my favorite fall comfort meals—potato soup.
“Let me.” Lachlan’s voice came again, softer now but with an edge that brooked no argument. He grabbed a bowl, ready to serve me.
I forced a smile. “It’s okay. I can do it.”
He glanced at my leg, at my hands, and something unreadable flickered in his eyes. Guilt? Worry? Possession? He gently steered me toward the dining table instead. I sat, feeling the ache in my muscles ease but not the tension under my skin.
When I looked up again, he was at the counter, lifting the lid off the soup. He ladled out a generous helping into two bowls then, without hesitation, took a big spoonful from both of them.
My chest tightened.He’d remembered. And even though I had cooked the food, the thought of him being in the house while I was outside had given me pause. That small, quiet gesture from him hit me harder than it should have.
He brought the bowl to me, sliding it across the table with a small smile.
“It’s delicious, by the way,” he said after taking another bite from his own bowl. “Thank you. Not just for dinner, but for . . . everything today.” His eyes lingered on mine a beat too long. “Now, do you want to tell me about these ideas you mentioned?”
I scooped up a spoonful and nearly moaned when it hit my tongue. Warm, creamy, perfection. And bacon? What girl didn’t moan for bacon? My stomach had been empty for most of the day. I had the pathetic excuse of toast for breakfast but had skipped lunch since I’d been running around the farm. But itwasn’t just hunger making me tremble. Lachlan shifted in his chair, his leg brushing mine beneath the table and not moving away. I bit my lip at the contact.Jesus, I needed help.
“I was thinking,” I said, forcing myself to focus, “we could throw a couple events at Evergreen. Maybe bring in a few vendors, apple bobbing, Santa, maybe even sleigh rides?”
“That all sounds great, Logan,” he started, but his voice had lost some of its ease. “But I don’t have the money to—”
“I know,” I cut in quickly, leaning forward. “But I know a few people who’d come out for the chance to make some sales. It’d bring publicity to Evergreen. People could see the trees, get excited for the holidays.”
His brow furrowed. “I don’t know if I can handle—”
“I’ll handle everything,” I said firmly.
His gaze flicked to my hands then down to my injured leg again before he arched a brow at me like the idea of me doing anything more than I already had was absurd.
“Okayyy,” I drew out slowly. “Not everything. We’ll work together.” I hesitated, a ghost of a smile pulling at my lips. I really needed to get this back on track. This was just a business relationship—no, not relationship, temporary partners until the cops were fully off our backs. “Oh, and it’ll look good for us to be seen together more often,” I added. I needed to keep that at the forefront of my mind.
He blew out a breath and finally said, “Alright. I’m on board. Where should we start?”
As soon as the words left his lips, I reached for my laptop sitting on the table and opened it to the PowerPoint I had made just for this moment. I had so many ideas I couldn’t wait to get started. Lachlan eyed me and chuckled when he saw I had put together a presentation for him. I went through every slide, but I couldn’t help but notice his eyes lingering on me more than on the screen.
This man was like a gravitational pull for trouble, and I was letting him tug me right into him.
Chapter 13
Logan
The next few weeks went by in a blur, with Lachlan going to work at the firehouse, then coming straight to the farm to work his ass off afterward. I helped him set up the event area, our days blending together in hard work and unspoken restraint. It was easier this way—keeping busy. When we weren't working, we were alone at the house and the air between us was thick. Something neither of us seemed to be doing a good job of ignoring.
Halloween had come and gone. We’d stayed up late watching Michael Myers and making jokes about our murderous sides. By the end of the night, I’d fallen asleep with him on the couch, and then had felt weightless before waking in my bed the next morning. That had only seemed to tighten the pull between us even more.
On November first, we’d opened Evergreen for Christmas tree sales and had started preparing for the two main events we had planned. One was Photos with Santa, happening today, andthe other was a big Christmas-themed festival that wouldn’t happen until we were a little closer to Christmas, on December thirteenth.
On weekends, a few of my colleagues had been coming out to help, and those had become the days I lived for. Because when people were around, Lachlan played his part. He’d keep his hand low on my back as we walked through the office, his fingers brushing against my wrist as if by accident but never quite letting go. After a long day, when the stragglers were finishing up, he'd take my hand as we walked back to the house. The casual intimacy of it made my pulse spike and my legs weak. We'd go grocery shopping together, him lingering close, his arm brushing mine. Every touch felt like a spark that I wanted more of, and it was only growing by the day.
The blacked-out SUV had only been around a few times since I’d moved in, but it was always in the backs of our minds. We couldn't shake the feeling they were still watching us. They didn’t trust our story, and maybe they shouldn’t. After all, I had killed my ex-husband, and Lachlan? God only knew how many monsters he’d ended. The more I thought about it the more... intoxicating he became. His quiet darkness only made him hotter. I had to fight it every moment because I knew better than to cross that line. This was all pretend, wasn’t it? But god, what if it didn’t have to be?
