Page 24 of Holiday Power Play

He passes the open bottle to my brother, who stares at it a moment too long. I roll my eyes and grab the bottle, bringing the cold glass to my lips and taking an extra strong pull of it.

If I'm going to be stranded in a cabin in the middle of nowhere just before Christmas with two men… then I'll take all the alcohol I can get.

"Lana MacDonald," Trevor says in an appreciative voice. "Didn't think you had it in you."

I take a second giant gulp before handing him the bottle.

"Well, while my brother whips us up some canned dinner, I'm going to go chop us up some wood for the fire," I say.

Both guys look at me like I just lost my mind.

"You're not going out there," Vance says. "Trust me, the wind alone will blow you down the mountain we just rode up."

"Don't be ridiculous. I'll be fine. I've been in worse." I zip Trevor's coat up to my neck and pull on the hoodie.

Trevor stares at me for a second before taking another pull of vodka, setting it on the counter, and turning to Vance.

"Give me your coat." He holds a hand out, waiting for him.

"My coat? As in the one I'm currently wearing so as not to die of frostbite?"

"Yes, that coat. I'm going with her."

"No, you're not," I protest.

Vance looks at him but ultimately gives in and shrugs out of his giant coat. Trevor slips it on, zips it up, and turns to me. "The lady wants firewood, so let's chop some firewood."

"I don't need your help," I say to him, turning to exit the back of the house.

"Well, if the winds are going to blow you down the mountain, I'd at least like to watch. Make sure they finish the job."

I glower at him, and he grins at me.

I pull the coat hoodie closer around my face and brace for the cold wind before turning back to Trevor.

“Just try to keep up."

Chapter 6

Trevor

Lana is surprisingly gifted at wielding an axe. A detail I don't plan on forgetting anytime soon considering how much she doesn't like me.

Though I'm pretty sure she didn't miss the fact that I am very attracted to her—the raging bulge in my pants earlier was proof of that. I was hoping she wouldn't notice, but come on—her ass was literally rubbing against me. What am I supposed to do… not get turned on?

She stabilizes a piece of wood against the trunk and positions the axe just above her head. In one swift movement, she's able to split the wood in two.

I shudder at the thought of what she could do with that axe if she knew I was thinking about her pressed up against me.

"Alright, Woody Woodpecker. Let me have a go, would you? Show you how a real man chops wood."

She gives me a look that says,I'd like to see you try,but reluctantly hands me the axe.

"Don't hurt yourself," she says coldly.

"Aww, you do care."

"No, it would just be a real inconvenience to have to bury you up here in this frozen tundra. Although, I’m sure the wolves wouldn’t mind having a Christmas feast."

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