It’s almosthard to believe Hunter stays through pack up and clean up. It’s almost two in the morning by the time the hall is returned to looking like it’s about to host the next town meeting.
And I am exhausted. My little Santa dress keeps riding up, my heels are in the corner of the room, and my hair went from pretty curls to a bun hours ago.
“You know,” I groan, waddling painfully to my shoes. “You could have taken Opal home yourself.”
Hunter grabs his suit jacket and slings it over his shoulder as he watches me. “That wouldn’t be fair. You let me sit out the announcements. You’re the one who should have been allowed to go home early.”
I can’t help but smile to myself. “Not second-guessing our mystery date yet?”
Hunter rolls his eyes as he grabs my shoes for me, as well as my purse. My cheeks warm as he hands me my bag. I know it’s only because he’s a gentleman and nothing more, but hot damn.
Clearing my throat, I take my purse and toss it over my shoulder. The last of the cleaners bid their farewells as we make our way towards the exit.
“Do you need a ride home?” he asks suddenly.
I stop, chewing my bottom lip. From here, the sky is a flurry of snow. Now, I wouldn’t say I’m a total newb at driving in the snow, but I also wouldn’t do it willingly because of the danger involved. Also, my car might work, but I don’t know WillowRidge well enough to confidently drive home at 2 AMandwhile it’s snowing.
“Please?” I ask sweetly, turning to him. “And I’ll owe you one.”
Hunter snorts as he shakes his head. “Least I can do. You put a lot of work into tonight, proving me wrong.”
There’s something about that little admission that makes my heart stutter. I don’t do anything for the validation of others. I learned a long time ago there’s no point. There’d always be something else I could have done better. Something that would have made the event a littlenicer. I’m more than aware of how well tonight went, especially because once Lydia crunches the numbers and sends through my brother’s contribution, plus all the extra from his friends, we might actually save the firehouse.
With a sigh, I reach for my heels. “Mrs. Claus didn’t think about the implications of not bringing boots with her tonight,” I say, taking the straps. “And there’s no Mr. Claus to do the heavy lifting. My toes won’t freeze off between here and your truck, will they? I think they’re too pretty for frostbite.”
Something shifts in Hunter’s eyes as they roam over me. My skin prickles at his assessment, at the flare of warmth that takes the deep grey of his irises into something molten.
“Hold these,” he says gruffly, handing over my heels. His jacket, which he hasn’t bothered to put back on since he arrived at town hall, goes around my shoulders. The contact, although brief, makes me shiver.
“What—”
Before I can ask what the hell this grumpy man is doing, he swings me into his arms. I bite down on a yelp, immediately curling my arms around his neck. The man doesn’t even grunt, doesn’t look like he’s straining. I’m no dainty little flower. I was built to be the bane of my trust-fund Barbie mother’s existence.The only thing I inherited from her was the colour of my hair. But this man…
This man carries me to the door like I weigh nothing more than a few eye rolls and groans.
“You donothave to do this,” I whisper-shout, tensing as the custodian opens the double doors for us. The older man, Marvin, tips his hat to us and winks at me like he knows something. I spent a lot of time this past week with that old man, and I know what a gossip he is. I swear if he…
“You said it yourself,” Hunter replies, cutting off my thoughts, “you aren’t dressed for it.”
I swallow hard, trying to ignore the fluttering warmth building in my belly. “I guess being a lumberjack means lifting heavy things is child’s play.”
Hunter gives me a funny look, eyes darkening in a way I can’t read. But he says nothing else until we get to his truck. “You’re going to have to open the door. If I set you down, those toes of yours will fall off.”
I snort, shaking my head as I slowly retract one of my arms from around his shoulders and tug on the door handle. The interior smells of freshly cut wood with a hint of spice that I know is his aftershave. There’s something kinda sexy about a man who keeps his vehicle clean and smelling good.
Gently, Hunter lowers me into the cab, his face inches from mine. When he breathes, I feel it against my cold cheek. The way my body reacts to him feels like a massive betrayal of everything I know about this man, who is totally off limits. And when our eyes meet, his lips only a breath from mine, everything in me screams…
Hunter pulls away sharply, clearing his throat. “Looks like we’re in for some heavy snowfall,” he grumbles, closing the door on me.
I almost flinch at the sudden shift, but I know better. Hunter is notthatsort of guy. This man is devoted to his daughter, and I admire that about him. I wish my own had been that great, but alas, I haven’t seen him in a decade.
The driver’s side door opens quietly, and he gets in without a word. “Thank you,” I whisper as he starts the truck.
Hunter just looks at me, still shielded like he isn’t sure what he should say or do.
“Let’s get you home before the snow blocks us,” is all he says in response, kicking the car into gear.
I just press my lips together and wrap his suit jacket around me, the spice of his cologne tickling every breath I pull in.
