Page 6 of Her Rugged Lumberjack

He takes a sip of his cocoa. “Interesting.”

I frown at him. Nolan has a way of looking at you like he knows all your secrets, and I’m convinced my thoughts about Margot are written all over my face.

“What’s interesting?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant.

Nolan shrugs. “Yesterday, you were pissed I wanted to hire someone. I thought it would take longer for you to get onboard.”

“You made a decision and I’m running with it.”

“Hm.” Nolan watches me for a couple of seconds longer before he finally heads off toward the trees. “Don’t scare her off,” he calls over his shoulder before disappearing among the thick pines, his crunching footsteps fading into the distance.

The barn is like a warm bath compared to the chilly air outside. I haul all the boxed-up decorations out of the back and pile them in the main room—one less job for Margot. Then I make a couple of cocoas and wait for the sound of a car, pacing back and forward to try to get rid of the restless energy zipping through me. After a couple of minutes, I hear the rumble of an engine, the sound of a door slamming, footsteps approaching.

Margot steps into the barn and our eyes meet. She looks fucking incredible in her ruby red sweater and blue jeans, her dark hair tied back in a messy bun. Seeing her is like a shot of adrenaline, shocking my body to life. She’s so damn pretty. Those curves are enough to drive a man crazy, and I feel blood rush downward, my cock swelling as my gaze lingers on her for several beats too long. She breaks eye contact first, looking at the boxes of decorations as she walks toward me.

“Good morning,” she says.

Am I imagining it, or is she blushing?

“Hey.” I swallow hard, trying to get myself under control. It’s wrong for me to be reacting like this—not only is Margot my employee, but she looks about half my age. I just turned forty-five, and she must be a few years into her twenties at most. But dammit, it’s impossible to control the desire bubbling in my veins, turning my brain to mush.

“I hope this is okay,” she says, gesturing down to her clothes. “I forgot to ask what I was supposed to wear.”

“That’s perfect. As long as you’re warm and comfy.”

Margot nods, smiling slightly as I reach over to give her the cocoa. “Thank you. Smells amazing.” She takes a deep sip, warming her hands on the mug. “Should I get started on decorating the barn today? Or is there something else you’d like me to do first?”

“The barn would be great.” I point to the boxes. “Everything you need is in there. Go nuts.”

“Awesome.” She smiles again, and it makes her eyes twinkle like diamonds. This angel is beyond beautiful…she’s fucking radiant. It’s hard to believe she’s really here standing in my barn, her sweet red lips curved upward as she looks at me.

“I’m going to give you a hand,” I tell her, reaching for one of the boxes.

“Are you sure?” Her brow furrows. “You probably have better things to do. I can manage.”

She’s not wrong. I have plenty of other things that need my attention right now, and yesterday, the thought of ‘wasting’ a whole day decorating the barn would have driven me nuts. But right now, I want a chance to get to know Margot, and I won’t get that chance if I’m cutting trees outside while she’s in here by herself.

“I’m sure.”

Margot and I unbox all the decorations, rooting through yards of tinsel, strings of lights, nutcracker dolls, red bows, ribbons, giant candy canes, and a bunch of other festive stuff that has been gathering dust since last December. There are several Christmas tree pots, hundreds of baubles, and an assortment of stars to sit on top of each tree.

“Looks like we have our work cut out,” Margot says, chuckling as she inspects a garland the length of a swimming pool. “Guess I could use the help after all. There’s a lot here.”

“Yeah, my dad was a big fan of decorations. Bought a shit ton of them. He always went kind of overboard at Christmas.”

Margot looks up at me, and there’s a flicker of pity on her face as she says, “Sorry.”

I frown. “What for?”

“I read about your dad passing away when I was researching the farm.” She sets the garland down. “I’m really sorry for your loss.”

The words make my throat tighten. It’s been almost nine months since my dad died, and somehow it’s harder to deal with now than it was when it happened. When he passed, there was so much to do—the funeral, the will, transferring the business, all the mindless admin that comes with death. Now that’s all finished, and there’s nothing to distract me from the fact that my dad is gone forever. Or at least, therewasnothing to distract me…until Margot walked in yesterday. For the first time in months, I’m not driving myself crazy with thoughts about how I’m not good enough to continue my dad’s legacy. And damn, it feels good.

“Thank you, Margot,” I tell her finally. “It means a lot.”

She smiles before rifling through the boxes again, grabbing a few decorations at random. I do the same, but decorating is the last thing on my mind. I have so many questions I want to askthis girl; it’s impossible to know where to begin. But I can’t just jump in. I need to start slow.

“So, what made you want to work on a Christmas tree farm?”

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