Page 2 of This December

“The angel!” He all but shouted after a long beat. “Your angel is proportional. Not—I wasn’t saying you…” This time his cheeks were the ones to redden.

I grinned. That was clearly a lie. The fact thatIcould fluster this man had me brimming with confidence. And power. “Right. The angel. Totally understood what you said.”

He shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “Can we forget I said that? Maybe I can give you a hand with all this?”

The smile slid off my face. Right. The reason I was here—to deliver groceries—not to flirt with the gorgeous man who I’d rattled with my snow angel abilities and not my body.

I pushed my blonde hair out of my face with a grimace. “Contrary to appearances, I’ve got it. I’m a total professional—I swear.”

“Let me help. It’ll go faster with two people.”

I smiled wanly. “Sure.”

He grabbed the big bag of potatoes, and I collected all the vegetables I could that were strewn across the driveway. The milk was a total loss as was the wet paper bag responsible for it all. Once I reached the front door, I distributed the vegetables to the other bags and headed for my car again.

We silently collected more bags and after two trips the lot was delivered. I fumbled my phone out of my coat pocket.

“Do you mind if we don’t take a selfie?” my mystery man asked with a sudden frown. “I’m trying to keep my location on the down low while I’m here.”

I sent him a confused look. So he was famous as well as rich? Okay. “Uh, yeah. Sure. If you could step to the left, you’ll be out of frame. I just need a picture of the delivery for my company.”

His cheeks colored for a second time in as many minutes, and he took a few exaggerated steps away.

I took a photo of the groceries then opened a text through the delivery app. “I’m notifying them about the damaged goods. You won’t be charged for the oat milk or the cherry tomatoes. If you’d like, I can make another run to grab replacements for you at no charge.”

“Oh. Uh, no. That’s okay. I don’t even drink oat milk. I just placed a repeat order to keep it simple. This is more than I need.”

“Right. Well, enjoy your time in Tahoe. Again, sorry for the mess.” I waved a hand at his driveway.

“I kinda thought it was more a work of art.”

“That’s me, the Jackson Pollack of grocery delivery.”

“Or Banksy maybe?”

I laughed. “Does that mean you won’t be removing the snow from your driveway? Now you’ll have to preserve it for the ages. Maybe pour some resin over it?”

“That’d make it hell to pull into the garage.”

I turned and surveyed the driveway and garage approach and sadly shook my head. “It’d be a sacrifice but totally worth it. The things we do for art.”

He laughed, and I could’ve sworn he muttered “you have no idea” under his breath.

“Anyhow, I have more deliveries to hustle through before nightfall. Take care.” I lifted my hand in an awkward wave that he returned.

I could feel his gaze on my back the whole way back to my car. As I opened the driver door, I peeped back over my shoulder, and sure enough, he was standing on the porch staring my way. Watching me. No doubt wondering what the hell just happened.

Ditto, my man. Ditto.

* * *

By the time I got home, it was well past dusk, but my parents’ house was lit up with Christmas lights and an endless well of Christmas cheer when I stomped through the mudroom to get all the snow off my boots.

“December, honey? Is that you?” Mom called from the kitchen.

One thing I would never regret about moving back into my parents’ house was the wonderful food always on tap. Right now the scent of a roast and fresh baked rolls wafted through the house and made my stomach growl.

“It’s me, Mom. I’m just going to wash up.”

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