My arms were pinned in front of my chest as I tried to be as small as possible, and the muscles in my legs were starting to quiver from effort.
“That does not look comfortable,” Brett noted and pulled his arm up.
A flash of panic cracked over me when I realized he intended to drape it around my shoulders as a way to give me more room. But before his arm could settle, another arm snaked around my torso and pulled me flush against Archer.
The scent of fresh pine overwhelmed my senses, and the heat radiating from his body instantly relaxed my stressed muscles. I went slack almost instantly, practically melting into the worn flannel covering his upper half.
He made the barest of sounds—seriously, did I imagine that?—and thenthe heavy weight of his arm settled over my shoulders.
Exhaling, I leaned farther into him before realizing what exactly I was doing. I tensed anew, but he made another one of those soundless sounds and widened his legs so that, from the hip down, we were velcroed together.
The fight in me surrendered, and I rested against him once more.
“Can you drive like that?” Brett questioned Archer. Then to me, “Maybe you should slide over here.” He lifted his arm again, and Archer practically growled.
“He’s fine.”
After that, the cab was quiet, and beyond the headlights of the old truck, darkness swallowed the farm. The rattle of the heater and the warmth of the solid body practically supporting mine lulled me into some kind of hypnotic state that made my lids start to droop.
It could have been minutes or seconds later when Paul’s voice had my lashes fluttering. “Well, look at that. Half the town must be here already.”
From beneath the weight of Archer’s arm, I perked up, peering through the windshield at the illuminated string lights around the property and lining the barn and shop.
In the center of it all was a bonfire, which was well on its way to impressive, and people in coats and hats milled around.
“What’s that?” I asked, pointing to a line on the opposite side of the fire.
“It’s the hot chocolate stand,” Archer replied.
“Wow,” I said, sweeping over it all. I understood now why Brandy said it wasn’t just a bonfire. It was a Yuletide bonfire.
“The band is setting up,” Brett noted, pointing.
“Do you know them?” I asked. He’d mentioned the band back at the clinic too.
Brett nodded. “I went to high school with them.”
“It’s Doc Hatfield’s youngest daughter.” Archer elaborated.
Surprise made me sit up. “Really?”
Brett nodded. “Yeah, she was the best singer in the whole school. When she graduated, she moved to New York and has done a few Broadway shows.”
“Whoa, really?”
Brett nodded.
“What’s she doing here, then?” I wondered.
“Some people actually come home for the holidays,” Archer quipped.
Was that bitterness in his tone?
As he steered the truck right up beside one of the barns, I saw his mom, Connie, step out of a cute little shop that was decorated to the nines for Christmas. Above the door was a sign that readHodge Podge.
“My mom told me you opened a store,” I said, watching her walk toward us with a basket in hand.
“The guests like it,” he replied tersely as he shut off the engine.
