Page 9 of My Greatest Joy

I try to text my sister, but it showsnot delivered. “My text won’t go through.”

Levi looks at his screen. “A tower might’ve gone out. That sometimes happens with high winds.”

“Shit,” I mutter, realizing I’m in a worse position than I was when I arrived. Not only don’t I know this man but now I have no way of calling or texting anyone for help if he turns out to be a total psycho. While he seems like a genuinely nice guy, some people are great at faking it. And considering what his house looks like, I wouldn’t put him being a psycho off the table.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do. Gotta make the best of it,” he tells me as his dog lies at my feet. I look down and meet his big brown eyes, then throw him a piece of bacon when Levi isn’t looking. Dasher wags his tail as I sneak him another.

“Don’t worry about yesterday. Everyone deserves a second chance, but what matters is what you do with it.”

“Philosophical, too,” I hum. “As soon as I find somewhere else to go, I’ll be out of your hair. I have a lot of work to do and need zero distractions. I don’t like being interrupted when I’m in the zone.”

“Are you setting ground rules?” he teases. “Either way, I won’t bother you.”

“This article has to be perfect.”

“Article orexposépiece?” he challenges.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I retort.

“You said you already hate it here. Just wondering if you came with good or bad intentions. An article written in a bad light could ruin Maplewood Falls’ businesses and tourist attractions.”

“Are you trying to intimidate me to write a puff piece?”

He grins slyly. “I don’t think anyone could intimidate you. Especially with you carrying around deadly weapons.”

I roll my eyes at his dramatics. “As of now, my only priority is to be truthful. I want to visit the local farms and meet the people who run them, as well as interview the mayor, business owners, and tourists. I’ve done some research and read a few blogs. As of now, I don’t believe it’s all it’s cracked up to be.”

“I can’t believe they sent a Christmas-hating journalist to one of the jolliest places on the planet who also happens to have the last name of Joy. Do you find the humor in that at all? Or is your heart really made of coal?” He laughs, taking a bite of eggs.

“That’s so funny coming from a guy with the last name ofWhite…whose family owns a Christmas tree farm and is obsessed with reindeer and Santa.”

He taps his temple. “It’s called smart marketing, baby.” He shoots me a wink, and I hate how heat rushes through my body when he looks at me like that.

I finish eating, then place my plate in the sink. “Thanks for breakfast.”

“You’re welcome. I’m making it my personal mission to get you to like this holiday before you leave. You’ll be singing Christmas songs in no time.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. Christmas has been dead to me for years,” I say without thinking as I make my way to the stairs.

“Wait, what?” he calls out, but I go to my room and ignore his question.

I wish I could call Taryn and tell her what’s going on and how memories of our childhood flood my mind every time I stare at one of these trees. But since I can’t do that, I open my laptop and pull up a blank document.

At least we still have electricity…for now.

First impressions are everything, and based on what’s happened since I arrived, this place seems more like a winter hell than a wonderland.

So I place my fingers on the keys and resort to what I always do when I get overwhelmed—I write.

CHAPTER FOUR

LEVI

Getting stuckduring a blizzard with a complete stranger who maced me while I was buck-ass naked was the last thing on my Bingo card.

But here I am, isolated with Little Miss Seattle and her Christmas-hating attitude.

There’s no telling how long cell service will be out. My best guess is at least until the wind dies down. The last time a storm this big came through, I didn’t have reception for a week.

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