Page 102 of 10 Things I Hate About Mistletoe

“Not for a bit.” She clicked her seat belt into place and added, “Besides, you could probably use a few days to heal, too.”

“I’m fine,” he said casually, closing her door and heading around the front to the driver’s side. In all honestly, he was trying not to walk like his body ached, but it did. His ribs, back, arms, face. Taking a few pain meds and a nap sounded like heaven at this point.

Anthony climbed up into the truck and winced when something in his ribs pulled.

“You’re really hurt,” Delilah said. “We should take you to the hospital.”

“I’m fine. A couple of bumps and bruises.” Anthony turned in the seat, watching her. “As far as making today up to you, what are we talking? Chocolates for a week?”

“You don’t have anything to make up to me,” she said, staring at her hands. “I’m the guilty one.”

Anthony leaned back in surprise. “Why are you feeling guilty?”

“Because every time you get into trouble, it’s because of me. Someone says something about me, and you come to my rescue. You and Pike got into a huge blowup because of me.” Delilah sighed, leaning her head back against the seat. “Maybe we just aren’t meant to do this.”

Her words knocked the wind out of his chest. “Don’t say that.”

“Anthony—”

“Please.” He reached out and picked up her hand up, squeezing it. “I know it’s been a lot but … I’d like to show you something. Would you come with me?”

“To where?” she asked.

Anthony didn’t answer right away. He took his hand back and started the car, pulling out on to Main Street.

“Where are you going?” Delilah asked.

“There’s something you need to see, and then I want you to stop saying we’re not meant to be together.”

Delilah didn’t say anything else for several moments and he couldn’t take the silence, so he started rambling. “I think I’m feeling insecure, and maybe that’s why I keep acting like a jealous lout.”

“Lout?” she said, her voice soft and amused. “That’s very medieval of you.”

“Hey, I read. I’m educated.”

“I know that,” she said, placing her hand on his arm. “I’m only teasing.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m just sensitive about it. People assume because I played football and worked road construction that I’m some uneducated slacker, but I paid my own way through school to earn my degree.”

“I know all of this, Anthony,” she said, squeezing his bicep until he glanced her way. “Why do you sound like you’re trying to convince me?”

“Because I’ve never felt this way about anyone.” He took a right past the Winters’ farm and up a dirt road, snow piled up on either side of the one lane.

“And that’s why you’re taking me up into the forest?”

“My home, actually,” Anthony said, his voice shaking with the bumps of the road or maybe that was nerves. “Or, my home site. I know I told you I live in a trailer right now and even though I fixed it up and put in new flooring and appliances, it is still just a trailer.” Anthony stopped the truck in front of the camper and pointed out the window. “But the view is beautiful.”

Anthony watched Delilah take in the scenery for several seconds before she opened the car door. They both got out of the truck and Anthony studied Delilah across the hood of the truck, her gaze focused on the view of rolling mountains, acres of pine trees, and imposing, craggy mountains in the distance. Did it take her breath away, the way it did his? Was that why she wasn’t saying anything?

He’d fallen in love with this view the first time he saw it and as he watched her take it in, he only prayed she loved it, too.

“This is heaven,” she whispered, and his breath rushed out in relief, an eager grin plastering his face.

“I think so, too, which is why I placed the trailer in the exact spot I’m having the house built.” Anthony knew that the 1990s camper didn’t look like much, but he’d done a lot to the inside to make it a home. Hopefully, she would see that. “The home will have a wraparound porch. Do you want to come inside and I’ll show you the plans?”

“I’d love to see your place,” Delilah said.

Anthony held the door open for her and she walked past him up the metal stairs and into the trailer. He knew it wasn’t much, but it had everything he needed to live. “I pulled out the linoleum floor and put in LVP when I gutted it.” He climbed the steps behind her, watching her face as her gaze trailed over his temporary home, or so he’d been saying the last ten years. He’d installed his bed to the right of the entrance and ordered a new table booth to replace the broken one the trailer had come with. He’d also updated the couch to a leather one and put in small but modern cabinetry in the kitchen. He’d taken out the bunk beds in the back and expanded the bathroom to put in a shower big enough for him.