Page 10 of Dad Bod Snow Job

She rolls to her feet, and Bear pounces into action. They dart between the premium trees, her boots spraying snow, his tail raised like a victory flag. My usually stoic guard dog bounds after her like a puppy, transformed by her presence.

Just like his owner.

They vanish behind our showcase display. A tree wobbles, and my contentment evaporates. "Holly? Careful back there?—"

Bear bursts through the gap. Holly spins to avoid him, grabbing a branch to steady herself. The tree rocks. Her eyes meet mine as it tilts.

"Oh no," she cries.

Bear's barking pierces through my panic. The only two beings in my world that matter are in danger.

"Holly!" Time slows as the first tree slams into the second. Then the third. Our perfect display transforms into a line of tumbling evergreen dominoes.

My body moves before my brain catches up. I launch forward, measuring distance against gravity. Three strides. Two. Our eyes lock; hers are wide with surprise but not fear. Never fear. One stride.

I catch her around the waist just as the nearest tree groans. Spinning us away from danger, I curl my body around hers, shielding her as we fall. The impact drives the air from my lungs, but I barely notice. All I register is Holly's warmth pressed against my chest, her heartbeat racing in time with mine.

The last tree crashes beside us—pine needles scatter like rain, then... silence. Holly's sprawled across me, her face inches from mine. Snowflakes catch in her eyelashes, and her breath comes in little puffs against my lips. I hold her close, my hands spanning her waist, shielding her even though the threat is over.

"My hero," she whispers, and before I can process the softness in her voice, she presses a quick kiss to my mouth.

The contact blazes through me like a forest fire. God help me, I want more. Want everything. But I can't. I grunt and ease her aside, pushing to my feet before I do something foolish like haul her back into my arms. "You okay?"

"Never better." Her grin lights up her entire face as she accepts my offered hand. Rising, she shakes pine needles from her hair like confetti. "Although we just redesigned your display. Sorry."

Bear shoulders his way to us, checking Holly first—traitor—then me, his concern morphing into that wolfish grin dogs get when they know they've caused trouble and gotten away with it.

A kid's voice pierces the quiet. "That was awesome!"

A small crowd has gathered, wearing expressions ranging from sympathy to barely contained laughter. There's nothing like a bit of slapstick to draw the afternoon shoppers.

"I'll handle cleanup," Holly offers, brushing snow from her jeans, cheeks pink. "It's my fault, after all."

"Probably safer if I do it." I fight to keep my voice gruff, ignoring how my lips still burn from her kiss. "You stay where I can see you."

"Spoilsport." She steps closer, voice dropping so only I can hear. "You can't protect me from everything, Nico."

"Watch me," I mutter, but she's already turning to the waiting customers with unshakeable cheer.

"Welcome! Don't mind the chaos—we're just trying something new with our displays."

I shake my head, watching her work her magic on the crowd. The sight of her among my trees, covered in snow and pine needles, Bear at her heels like he's appointed himself her personal guardian—it hits me then. My world's been tilting off its axis since Holly arrived, but maybe it wasn't properly balanced in the first place.

Chapter 5

Holly

The kitchen timer dings as I adjust my phone's camera angle to capture the perfect shot of my steaming peppermint mocha. The caption practically writes itself: “Fueling up for another magical day at Bennett's Christmas Tree Farm! Don't forget to visit us at the Winter Festival this weekend! #RileysRidgeChristmas #SmallTownMagic.”

I toggle to the farm's analytics page, grinning at the engagement stats.

“Sixty-eight likes in ten minutes!” I squeal at my phone screen, almost choking on my morning toast. “And that's only the teaser video!”

Okay, maybe the sudden spike in female followers has something to do with my “Meet the Team” video series. But two weeks of running the tree farm’s social media accounts has taught me a few things: raw lumber is surprisingly photogenic, fresh snow makes everything look magical, and nothing gets more engagement than videos of a certain grumpy lumberjack doing his thing.

Not that I've been specifically filming Nico or anything. It's just that he happens to be doing something impressive every time I pull out my phone. Like yesterday, when he hoisted two massive firs onto his shoulders like they weighed nothing, his flannel shirt stretching across those broad?—

My cheeks heat as I catch myself daydreaming again.

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