Page 35 of The Christmas You Crash

“That’s ridiculous.” I glance at Lexi in time to see her roll her eyes. “It’s not mojo, it’s skill. You hockey players and your superstitions. I swear.”

“All I’m saying is that I had finally started earning my place on the team, and I’m worried that, by the time my stupid hand heals, Coach’ll have replaced me with someone else.” That’s always the fear. Guys get traded, let go, bumped down into lower lines that don’t see as much time on the ice. It sucks, but it’s just the way it is.

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” she says. “Pretty sure he likes you, from the sound of it.”

I need to turn this conversation around because we’re skating into dangerous territory. “I don’t want to worry about it. You’re right.” We make our way into a copse of trees. I let the axe fall from my left shoulder and rest the head on the ground while I survey the nearby evergreens. “Right now, I just want to focus on finding the perfect tree.”

That brings a smile to Lexi’s face. “It has to be fat and fluffy.”

“Right. Fat and fluffy. Let’s see if any of these fit the bill.” Together, we pick our way through the snow-covered forest. Weoccasionally shake the heavy white powder from branches to judge a tree’s shape and beauty. But they’re all too tall for the cabin. Looks like I’ll be chopping down half a tree, rather than a whole one.

“What about this one?” Lexi asks. Her eyes are bright when she turns to me, and the way the sun hits her face makes it look like her fair skin is glowing. “It’s a little tall, but it’s fluffy, doesn’t have any bare spots, and the branches seem nice and sturdy.”

She could be pointing to the ugliest tree in the forest, and I’d tell her it’s perfect. Because I don’t care about the tree. Not really. I care about the way Lexi has completely forgotten about her shitty ex and her crappy dad because of a snow-covered tree in the forest and the prospect of decorating it.

“I think it’s perfect. Looks like it’s maybe twelve feet, so I’ll need to cut it down to size a bit, but that just means we’ll have some extra firewood, right?”

“Exactly!” Lexi claps her gloved hands as she looks at me expectantly. Hopefully this doesn’t mess up my hand too badly, because I’m committed now. I can’t let this woman down. Not after everything I’ve learned about her.

“Okay. Stand back so I don’t hurt you.”

She salutes me with a smirk. “Aye aye, Lumberjack Ryder.”

There’s a stupid grin stretched across my face as I lift the axe, making sure to grip it tighter with my uninjured hand, and let it swing. The first hit makes me hiss as the impact jars my wound, but with a minor tweak to my grip, it should be doable. The second swing still stings, but it’s not nearly as bad. By the tenth swing, I’m sore but almost through the trunk.

Lexi watches me with wide eyes. They’re filled with excitement and pleasure and maybe even a little hunger. The realization gives some extra power to my next two swings, and the tree groans as the trunk teeters, then falls.

“That’s so much hotter in person than social media,” I hear Lexi murmur to herself. Social media? Oh, she must be talking about that guy who makes thirst traps splitting huge logs. She thinks I’m hotter? Forget the pain in my hand. Worth it to hear her say stuff like that.

Giving my tingling palms a good shake, I eye the fallen tree. If I cut it to about seven-feet tall, it should be manageable enough to get inside the cabin. The real trick will be dragging it through the woods. Luckily, we didn’t get too deep in before Lexi foundthe one.

“You okay?” she asks when she notices what I’m doing. Her jubilant expression shifts into one of concern. “Did you hurt your hand?”

I shake my head. “Nah, I’m good. It’s just a lot of vibrations, and my palms are all tingly.” Though that’s not a lie, it’s not the whole truth. My palms are tingling, but my injured hand is also throbbing. Luckily, it doesn’t feel like I’ve split any of the stitches, and I made sure to shove some extra padding into my glove over my palm.

“Are you sure?”

Her nose wrinkles and her lips purse as she studies me. It’s adorable, so I can’t help myself. I boop her nose. “I’m sure, Oscar. But it’s sweet that you’re worried about me.”

She rolls her eyes at the use of the nickname—or maybe the boop on the nose—but lets it drop. “I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about dragging this tree to the cabin if you drop dead. It’s huge.”

With a bark of laughter, I turn my attention back to the task at hand. “It is huge. I need to cut it down more.” After eyeballing it, I point to a spot on the tree with the axe and turn to Lexi. “Think that looks about right?”

She squints, cocking her head to the side. Those lips of hers twist adorably as she thinks about it. “Hell if I know.”

“Right,” I say with a deep laugh. “We’re just going to go with it and hope it fits.”

“That’s what she said,” Lexi whispers under her breath. She jumps a little when I laugh at that, and her pink, winter-kissed cheeks flush a deeper shade of rose. “What? I like re-watchingThe Officein between murder mysteries.”

“I didn’t say anything,” I reassure her. Except, I can’t hide my smirk.

She folds her arms over her chest and taps her booted foot. “Whatever. You gonna cut that, or what?”

With a tip of my beanie and a bow at the waist, I say, “As you wish, Oscar.”

Thethwackof the blade hitting the tree drowns out her half-hearted grumbles. All I can think about is kissing the sass right out of her mouth.

eighteen

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