“I came out here to tell you I’m sorry.”
Greg removed the pencil from his mouth and placed it under the edge of his toboggan. “For what?”
Brittany squeezed her arms tighter, partly for warmth and partly out of frustration. “I was rude when you came by the house, and I apologize.”
“Oh, that’s nothing. I’ve been cussed out plenty of times.”
Brittany slung her arms by her side and took a step closer. “I did not cuss you out!”
“Yeah, I know.” He adjusted the tripod, not acknowledging her anger. After an awkward pause, he looked back at her. “That’s why it’s not a big deal.”
Brittany blinked. In a strange way, that made sense. Her shoulders relaxed a bit, and she found herself inching closer to him.
“Don’t come any closer.” Greg held up a palm.
Brittany froze, a little embarrassed to realize she’d come within a foot of him. Heat rose behind her cold cheeks from embarrassment.
“You’ll be in my view.” He looked through the lens and took more notes before returning the pencil and notepad to their rightful places.
“Can I ask you something, if you’re not mad?”
“If you promise to stay on this side of my total station, yeah.”
Brittany nodded again, concluding the clunky yellow tripod had an actual name. “Why did you laugh when you saw it was me at the door?”
Greg’s brown eyes met hers, wrinkles creasing around them. “Laugh at you?”
He looked genuinely confused. This was turning into high school all over again. He laughed so much at others, he didn’t even realize when he’d gone too far, or he simply chose to deny acting like a jerk.
Greg raised his gaze as if thinking and then looked back at her. “Oh, yeah.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at her feet. “You had on those dorky Santa socks.”
“Dorky?” Brittany crossed her arms again. That word stung more than he could ever know.
“Yeah, your socks were dorky.” Greg rubbed his stubbled chin and looked at her feet again. “But boots, those are cool. I have a similar pair I wear fishing.”
Brittany sighed. Greg’s eyes scanned her from feet to head, meeting her eyes once more with a sincere smirk. “Maybe I overreacted,” she said. Brittany’s stomach twitched when she studied Greg’s face. Not a sign of sarcasm rested on his strong features.
As if she had lost all control, her feet nudged closer to Greg. Maybe she passed the imaginary line he barked about, but he didn’t scold her. He was an older version of the Greg she’d known, with a kinder disposition. Or maybe he’d always had it, and she’d just never noticed.
He let out a breath, and the air in front of him turned frosty. His breath smelled like hazelnut coffee, and Brittany realized she’d never been this close to Greg Tucker before.
He closed his mouth and cocked one corner into a smile, revealing a dimple in his left cheek. She swallowed and crossed her arms, searching for something to say to make this moment less humiliating.
“Brittany?” Her dad’s deep voice called from a short distance.
Greg’s eyes moved from Brittany’s to over her head, causing her to turn around.
“Daddy?”
Marty walked their way, dressed in a large work coat, gloves, and a cap. He stood beside them and faced his daughter. “I didn’t expect you to be out so early unless you went with your mom.”
“I stayed here to tie up some loose ends for work so I could officially enjoy the holidays.” Brittany rocked back on her heels to casually back her body away from Greg’s. “And then I saw Greg, and I needed to come—”
“See what surveyors do.” Greg jumped in before Brittany could say “apologize.”
“I didn’t know you had an interest.” Marty turned from Brittany to Greg and back to Brittany.
“The story I’m writing has a surveyor in it.” Brittany gritted her teeth at the lame lie she’d fed her father.