“I’m good,” she replied. “Almost got it.”
With another strong swipe of the knife, the mistletoe broke free and Rachel suddenly snapped back, the tension holding her in place releasing like a broken rubber band. Her upper body swung backward. Buddy staggered sideways to counteract her falter.
For seconds that felt like minutes, they swayed across the icy ground as one ridiculous, top-heavy unit. It was as if she were suddenly on stilts, with no control over the legs and feet that ensured she wouldn’t end up face first on the ground. Her body, her brain—it all came untethered.
“Hang on!” Buddy shouted. He moved his hands up to her waist and when he dropped to the ground and lifted her off, Rachel’s head whooshed like she’d crested and then dipped the highest arc of a rollercoaster. “I’ve got you.”
Her boots met the snow first, then her knees, then her palms.
“Whoa there!” Buddy stooped and took her elbow to urge her cautiously to her feet. “You okay?”
“Fine.” She flattened a palm and brushed the snow from her clothes, shoulders squared. “Totally fine.” Then, hoisting the piece of mistletoe between them, right above eye level, she seethed when she asked, “Thisis better than the prototype I’ve been working on?”
Buddy took a step back, dusting off tiny flakes of snow from his own jacket. “It’s different.”
Indignant, Rachel stomped closer, coming face to face. “Different? Um, yeah. It’s different alright.” Her words released on a hot breath. She shook the mistletoe with vigor directly above their heads. “No one in their right mind would want to kiss under this!”
His slow gaze traveled from Rachel’s wild eyes, dipping and lingering the briefest moment on her mouth before drifting back up. “You sure about that?” he said in a tone that had her knees threatening to unhinge and drop her back into the snow.
She yanked the plant down. “We should get back.”
“You’re right.” He looked almost disappointed. “I’ve got an interview in about an hour and I should probably prepare for it.”
“You’re looking for a new job? But I thought you owned the rental store.” She crammed the mistletoe into her pocket and took the helmet when Buddy passed it her way.
“I’m not the interviewee, I’m the interviewer. We’re looking to add to our staff.”
“Oh.” Rachel found her place behind Buddy on the snowmobile and threaded her arms around his waist, wishing for a quick ride back up the mountain so she could finally be done with all of this physical contact. It had her dizzier than a pirouetting Sugar Plum Fairy. “I may need to pick your brain about that.”
“About the interviewing process?” He turned the key over on the electric start snowmobile.
“I’m pretty sure I’ll be looking for a new place of employment after the new year, and I haven’t interviewed with anyone since I was right out of college. I’m out of practice.” She paused, thinking better of it. “On second thought, I don’t know how much confidence I should place in your ‘expertise’.” She let go of his waist and hooked her fingers to make air quotes around the words. “After all, you brought me all the way down here only to harvest completely useless mistletoe.”
His neck craned back and he smirked. “We haven’t tested it out to see if it’s useless yet, though, have we?”
Before Rachel could register his words, he released the choke on the snowmobile and whisked up the mountain at breakneck speed, her protest suddenly gone with the alpine wind.
CHAPTER10
“Come on, girl!”
Snow kicked out from Scout’s legs like the fine grains of sand tossed from a child building a beach castle.
“Almost there.”
Holden’s eyes bounced between his dog and the stopwatch on his phone. If Scout could locate the piece of buried wool within the next thirty seconds, she’d beat her fastest time yet.
“So close.”
Dipping into her carved-out snow cave, Scout disappeared. Holden held his breath. Waiting was the hardest part of it all. He wanted to rush over to make certain she was okay. To confirm that the very trench she’d created didn’t trap her within it too. But Scout was working, and she was good at her job.
Better than Holden.
The tip of a furiously wagging tail backed out first, followed by Scout’s body, which wiggled side-to-side in celebration. She trotted over and dropped the fabric onto Holden’s lap, ready for a game of tug-of-war as her reward for another job well done.
“Good girl!” Holden praised, cupping her fuzzy cheeks in his hands. He pressed a kiss to her head and ruffled up her fur. “Very good girl, Scout. You did it again!”
A flat tongue on his cheek had his eyes watering with pride.
