There is a beauty in being a mess. In making mistakes. In letting people be there for you and support you. It is not always easy for all of us. Sometimes it is seen as a weakness, but I never believed that. Being weak is hard. Letting someone see that weakness is even harder.
“We’re with you all the way, Serena. Just do not be surprised if he answers his door with not joy or cheer…but hate and some humbug.”
Shaking my head, I turn with determination and all but storm up his long driveway. I think it is intentionally long. Twisty and sloping, to scare off those who might venture down it. I doubt the mailman even bothers.
Taking a moment to admire the cute little cabin, almost cloaked in thick spruce of the surrounding forest, I take a calming breath. Putting on a smile, I march up the short porch to knock on the door. Inside, a low light glows, the smell of a fire filling the cool night air. Knocking again, I turn to smile back at the others, trying to put on a brave face for them.
The door flies open with a bang, startling me. Staring down at me is the biggest, widest, most brooding man I have ever seen. I stand just five foot, and he looks as if he fits right in with the towering pine trees around us. His body is huge, taking up the entire doorway as he glares at the group of strangers gathered on his doorstep. He might intimidate the others, but when his eyes meet mine, I am anything but intimidated.
“H-Hello! Hi! We’re…well, we’re…we’re making the rounds of the mountain,” I stumble over my words. Because I can barely think straight as his eyes lock on mine. “We almostmissed you, but I saw the light on! Give us just a moment,” I plead as I stare back, entranced by the honey color of his eyes.
His eyes flicker with something soft. Something patient. They lock on me, as if he looks at the others behind me, it might be too much. I want to ask why it would be too much, why he is so hidden back here, and why he seems to mind us coming, yet has not yet told us to leave. Before I can ask those wildly inappropriate questions, Lilli starts singing so we all join.
We almost make it through one song. He gives us half of a song. Then he holds his hand up, smiling at us before his smile vanishes. Back is the brooding look he opened the door with. He barks to go somewhere else with our little stick, and to get off his porch. Before I even turn to the others, I hear them shuffling off the porch, taking his threat seriously.
Stunned by his gruff behavior, I narrow a glare up at the big man. I am not afraid of him. In fact, I will be back on his doorstep with a gift in hand once I decide what I think will best suit him. Putting on a smile, I thank him for listening to us before wishing him a happy holiday.
“I will be back, Mr. Roth,” I whisper as I join the others to continue on our merry ways. That grouch of a lumberjack is not going to ruin my goodwill tidings train. In fact, he just reminded me why we’re doing this to begin with.
Slater Roth needs some holiday cheer, so I am going to see he gets it.
Chapter Three
Slater
I am never in a good mood if you ask anyone else.
Today is different. I woke up without the usual feeling of doom and gloom. Of the emptiness I feel almost every single day. I have not been able to shake that feeling of being in a strange limbo. It has been that way since I lost my parents. Since I went through the terrors of war, of fighting for my crews lives while being forced to take lives.
It does not matter how long it has been since I was in that hell, it will always be with me. Being a soldier means you lose parts of yourself on each mission, whether you all make it out alive or not. Parts of me were left all over the world, and that emptiness has not been replaced by friends or family or hell, even a lover, since.
“Were you nice to Serena and my wife, you grumpy fuck?”
Blinking at Landon, I frown for a moment. His wife? Oh, hell. Lilli, she was there with the carolers at my cabin last night. Lilli and Landon live just up the road from me. I almost forgot about her being part of the group. Hard to remember anything besides the brunette with the pretty eyes.
Matter of fact, those stunning eyes have all I been able to think about.
“Probably not,” I mutter to him honestly, shrugging as if I could not care less. I do care. I am still gutted I was such a prick to her. To all of them. They were there to be nice, to be kind, and I sent them off. “I am not good with people, has this not made the rounds of Driftwood Peaks?”
Chuckling, Landon nods. “Well, yeah, but the same thing was said about me. About Mack, hell most of the guys on your landing were assholes once. No one wanted to deal with them.Lilli changed that for me.”
Rolling my eyes, even as a flush heats my face, I shake my head. No. His wife may have changed him, sure. All the ladies in the other guys’ lives may have made a difference. I am beyond what any of those guys were. Landon was still patient, still kind, he created beautiful gifts out of wood for families in need.
Meanwhile, I kicked a group of do-gooders off my porch.
Landon and the other guys on the mountain have always made room for me. They invite me to dinners, to weddings, hell even to their kids’ birthday parties. I just never go. Not because I hate the guys or their families. I just feel out of place in rooms full of happiness, of love.
“Stop before you start, bud. Just get your limber and beat it,” I tell him, frowning at his attempt to make small talk. Landon just smiles even bigger as he loads the last of his lumber into the bed of his truck.
“Just be nice to Serena next time you see her. Lilli thinks highly of her. She is one of the girls, as they say. If you’re not nice to her and it upsets those girls, I might have to cut your throat. Don’t make me kill you, Slater. See you next time, bud,” he calls with a finger in the air as he climbs in his truck and heads back to his workshop.
Asshole. Bigger men have delivered much scarier threats than that one from Landon Holms. None of them delivered, and neither will he. Not that I plan to be an asshole to Serena if I ever see her again. Chances of me seeing her again are slim enough I can almost guarantee it.
Finishing things up at the landing, I intend to do some more work on the Main Street pieces. I want to have most of downtown done before the winter is over. Good way to pass the misery of a season I barely tolerate. I hope those carolers have made their last pass through the mountains. I do not want tohave to kick that group off my porch again.
Then again…if they were to come back, I might let Serena sing as long as she wants. Just thinking about her beaming up at me with those pretty eyes and that angelic voice makes my chest burn. Why was I such an asshole to her? It has bothered me since she stormed off my front porch and I was fool enough not to go after her to apologize.
“You coming to dinner on Christmas, Slater?”
