“If you’re looking for something to do today, the boys and I are going to set up for Christmas. Reckon you could help us if you wanted to.”
I think of my apartment, my sterile apartment with no personal touches. I never bother to decorate. I’m so rarely there, and when I am, I’m just sleeping and grabbing food before another round of filming. Out loud, I ask him, “You decorate for Christmas even though you live by yourself?”
“Yeah, the holidays are important to me.”
“But why?” I blurt out, trying to puzzle through this. If it’s just me, it doesn’t seem worth the effort. Besides, it’s not like I can’t go to work and be surrounded by Christmas. Christmas is every day of the year when you film holiday movies.
His voice is soft when he answers, like he’s afraid to say it too loudly. “Because one day I’m going to have a wife and babies to share it with.”
Michelangelo barks.
He grins. “Well, more babies. The kind with two legs in addition to my best guys over here. So, do you want to help?”
My gaze goes to his lips. “With making babies?”
He smirks. “With Christmas decorating though, we could make some babies. I think they’d be cute with your features.”
My face heats as if I’m standing in the fire. It’s just my luck to get stranded with a flirty mountain man who loves Christmas. Surely, someone up there in the universe is laughing at me.
Chapter 6
Holly
A real snowstorm is a lot wetter than I imagined. It’s not that I’ve never been in a snowstorm before. I’ve been in plenty of them. Well, I’ve been on plenty of stages where there was snow. But this is real, and it’s a lot colder and wetter than I imagined.
Even with the thick, flannel shirt and work coat Hunter gave me to wear, the cold is still breathtaking. I trudge behind him, trying to walk in his footprints.
He has an axe casually slung over his shoulder, and I’m pretty sure he’s whistling Christmas carols under his breath as he goes.
“Are you sure this isn’t dangerous?” I ask. I barely suppress the urge to point out that I could break an ankle in this weather. That’s when I realize I’m not on set. It doesn’t really matter if I break an ankle here. Production won’t be halted, and scenes won’t have to be rewritten.
“Don’t you worry, darling.” He stops and gestures at the abundance of trees around us. “I have lots of experience with big wood.”
“Well, then what am I here for?” I grump and wrap my arms around myself.
He answers as if it should be obvious, “Your job is to pick the tree.”
“Does size matter?” I can’t resist teasing him. There’s something about being with Hunter. He’s easy to be around. I don’t feel the need to constantly edit and obsess over every little thing I say or think.
He smirks. “It always matters. You want just the right amount of wood.”
I tap my chin and pretend to be thinking. “Then we need to start with girth. I want a nice thick piece of wood.”
“Got plenty of that here.” Maybe it’s my imagination, but I’m pretty sure his voice just got deeper, huskier.
My stomach flutters as I think about what he’d sound like if he were growling filthy things into my ear. “Not only does it have to be thick. It also has to be big and firm.”
He nods as if we’re discussing something entirely serious. “Like I said, lady’s choice.”
I reach out and rub my gloved hand along the bark of one tree. “The first thing I want to do is test for hardness.”
The groan he makes in the back of his throat lets me know that he is just as aroused by our wordplay as I am.
I tap the tree trunk lightly. “It’s this one I want.”
He grunts. “Once you’ve made that decision, you can’t take it back. This tree will always belong to you.”
I drop my hand and my gaze. I can’t make any promises to either of us right now. That’s a sure way to break both of our hearts.
