Page 71 of Christmas Wishes

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KEATON

I wiped my hand across my damp forehead. I’d quickly worked up a sweat, despite the near-freezing temperature, thanks to the sun shining overhead. Fortunately, that helped keep the edge off at the frigid storage unit.

We’d gone through several boxes in Riggs’s unit and identified easy things he could donate or sell. We’d also loaded his couch into the back of his truck to take back to his house.

“I like these prints.” I flipped through the framed art stacked on a box. White-blue jagged lines jetted across dark backgrounds. “Lightning?”

“Electricity.” He smiled sheepishly.

“You’re such a dork. A sexy dork.” I swatted his butt, which pulled a laugh from him. His laughter came so much easier now than when we’d first met. God, that felt like a lifetime ago, but it’d barely been a blip of time.

He moved close and looked at the art over my shoulder. His body heat warmed me a few more degrees. “Think those would look good in the house?”

“Absolutely. You could hang them above the couch or on each side of the door to the garage from the kitchen or—” Riggs silenced me by tipping my head back and kissing my breath away.

He pulled back and stared down at me. “Thank you. You have no idea how much you’ve helped me today.”

A satisfied smile took over my face. It was wild to think that in the short time I’d been in Juniper Ridge, I’d felt more useful than I had back home in years.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I could help.” I handed the art to Riggs, and he carried it to the backseat of his truck. We had a sizable load to unpack this afternoon before we got ready for tonight’s Lights Up Juniper Ridge event.

“You could add this to your content too. Interior design.”

I paused before peeking inside the next box. “Hardly, but thank you. That might be a step too far from my brand.”

Riggs smiled like he’d caught me in a trap. “So, you’ve settled on a brand?”

“I…getting there.” I let out a breath and propped myself against a stack of boxes.

Riggs closed the truck door and walked back inside the unit, copying my pose and leaning against boxes next to me. “Can I be as honest with you as you were with me earlier?”

I nodded. I trusted Riggs and knew he wouldn’t say anything to hurt me.

“There’s a reason you’re hesitating, and I’m not sure it’s because you haven’t settled on a brand. Do you have any ideas about what else is going on?”

I felt the concern rolling off him. “But if my brand identity isn’t solid before I launch, I’ll never succeed. It needs to be clear from the jump who I am and what I’m about, or people will scroll on past.” Judging by Riggs’s expression, he didn’t buy my excuse either.

I tilted my head back and stared at the ceiling. There was more to it. I knew that. But I didn’t knowwhatit was. Or my self-preservation instincts were stopping me from figuring it out.

“How long have you wanted to do this?” His tone was careful, gentle.

“Years. Probably since I first saw a random person on the internet talking about how they applied makeup. I wanted to do that too.” I chuckled, remembering all the flops in the beginning. Once I’d gone to college and had my own space, I’d begun experimenting with makeup since I didn’t have to worry about a sibling coming in and teasing me. Arlo, bless him, had been endlessly supportive, even when it looked like I’d applied it in the dark while hanging upside down after spinning in a chair for five minutes.

“Why didn’t you start doing the content creation back then?”

“I wanted to get better at applying makeup. Then, I wanted to learn about skincare and the science behind the products. There’s always something to learn, and I want to be knowledgeable about what I’m talking about.”

“That makes sense, but could a little of it be that you’re stalling?” He grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers. “When Nico hired me after I got my electrician license, he told me he’d wanted to start his own electrician business for a long time but kept finding reasons not to do it. Eventually, he realized he was afraid of failure. He had to decide whether he wanted control of his career or the security of working for someone else. Going out on your own is scary. Work was a lot less stressful when I counted on Nico for my paycheck instead of myself. And now I’m stalling on hiring someone to replace me because I’m worried I’ll be a terrible manager.”

Riggs’s words cut the knotted cord around me, bonds tying me to my fears falling away, unraveling, revealing what I’d been trying to hide from. I leaned against him, and he took my weight. “You think I’m afraid of failing?”

“Who isn’t?”

I snorted. “I fail at everything. How can I be afraid of it?”

Riggs moved to stand in front of me. “What have you failed at before?”

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