Page 78 of The Christmas Tree Farm
‘It’s not wrong. I mean, it was my Christmas wish that got us snowed in in the first place.’
She glanced up at him and he was smiling, his eyes bright this morning.
‘Right. I forgot you were responsible for this whole winter storm.’
‘What can I say? I’ve been very good this year.’
Kira laughed, leaning into him. Had it really only been a week ago that she’d pictured doing this at the tree-lighting festival? And now it felt so easy, so natural. Already something she felt entitled to.
She pulled away. ‘Wow. And so modest, too.’
He shrugged the playful smirk on his lips. ‘How about some breakfast before we search the attic?’
‘Sure.’ Kira followed him into the house, appreciating what little warmth it held after being out in the cold. The power had been restored sometime in the night, so at least they had that. They shucked off their outerwear, hanging it over chairs and hooks to dry as Bennett talked about hopefully finding a tree stand up in the attic and needing to get some decorative fairy lights, too. And Kira tried desperately not to get too attached to the cozy domesticity of it all.
But it was too late of course.
Her gnawing loneliness was already eating this up. This time with Bennett, his aimless chatter, his warm body, his sweet smile. She wanted it. And the spoiled, rich girl inside her stamped her foot, fists clenched at her sides. Shewantedit. She wanted him.
And the worst part was she could see perfectly how she could get him. It wouldn’t take much to convince him. She could picture it.
Even with his assurances that he had no plans to stay, Kira knew a few well-placed comments, a few promises, a few more farm disasters and the scales would easily tip in her favor. Bennett would stay. He would fill the lonely bits in her heart. He would do all the shit around here she didn’t want to do, or didn’t know how to do.
And maybe for a while they’d be happy.
Except, underneath, she’d know she’d have trapped him here, she’d have manipulated him. And when had she ever been one for cozy domesticity, anyway? What happened when she got tired of it? Of him?
Although, as she watched him move around her kitchen pouring coffee and scrambling eggs, she couldn’t picture getting tired of this. But itwouldhappen one day, surely. And then she’d be forced to break this man’s heart. This good man. All because she couldn’t stand to be alone for a little while. All because she’d taken and taken and taken from him. Like she always did.
She tried to smile when he slid the plate of eggs and toast in front of her, but her face felt cold and immovable.
‘You okay?’ he asked and she met his eye across the table. His face was still a little red from shoveling and the cold, the hair along his forehead was damp with sweat. His gray eyes were warm this morning, more like her favorite soft wool blanket than a stormy sky. The way he looked at her made her physically hurt, a deep ache already forming in the hole he would leave when he went home.
Kira swallowed hard.
No more of this. Bennett is a holiday fling and nothing more. Something you’ve done plenty of times in your life. Now let it go.
She smiled her beauty-pageant smile, her mother’s society-party smile. She faked it until her cheeks hurt.
‘Yep. Just fine.’
ChapterTwenty-One
‘How is it possible that it’s even colder up here?’ Kira blew on her hands and rubbed them together for warmth.
‘Well, it’s closed off from the rest of the house and there’s no heat source up here so…’
She glared at him.
Right. She wasn’t actually looking for an answer. Something had happened in between hauling that Christmas tree into the house and now, and he wasn’t sure what it was, except that Kira’s prickly spines were back out in full force. But maybe he did understand. After last night he was feeling torn open in ways he hadn’t felt in years. If Kira was feeling half that vulnerable, she was obviously just protecting herself. Something he should probably consider doing himself. Instead, he just wanted to chop down trees for her and make her breakfast and coax that smile back onto her face. Because he was a sucker to his very core. A human doormat.
‘There’s a lot of boxes up here,’ he said, changing the topic from heating issues to the task at hand. ‘So we might find something useful.’
Kira ran her fingers over the top of a dusty box. ‘He left so much behind.’
‘According to Jeanie, there was a lot more but they had it cleared out before selling it.’
He scanned the attic. Stacks of cardboard boxes leaned precariously, slumped and crumpled with age, a few old lamps collecting dust in one corner, an ancient TV inhabiting the other. He could only stand up straight in the middle of the space, the slope of the roof on either side making it impossible not to hit his head along the edges of the room.
