Page 4 of Mountain Man's Holiday Home
“I was having breakfast at the diner. The server seemed to know your normal coffee order.”
“Must be Tara,” she said. “She hooks me up with caffeine when I’m in town.”
I nodded and held out the cup. “Two sugars, peppermint syrup, and oat milk.”
It was written on the side of the cup, but I’d already committed it to memory.
She took the coffee from me, but that wasn’t what had my heart beating a little faster than usual. Her thumb brushed mine in the process, and just that little bit of contact sent my system into overdrive.
Did she feel it too? Our eyes held as she stepped back. She did seem to stumble a little.
“Your brother said you needed some help transporting a tree,” I said. “Someone named Mrs. Doyle?”
Her mouth fell open a little, her hand freezing with her coffee cup halfway to her lips. She lowered it and tilted her head as she stared at me.
“He said you’d need to come with me,” I added before she could respond.
She clearly wasn’t in on any of this. Luca could have at least told her.
Was Luca actually trying to set us up? That seemed crazy—what brother wanted his buddy dating his sister? Then again, the way he’d insisted I go with her…
“Mrs. Doyle,” she repeated slowly, like she was testing the name. “And he said I need to come with you?”
I nodded. “Something about customer service and making sure she’s happy with the tree selection.”
She took a sip of her coffee and studied me over the rim of the cup. “That’s…weird. Luca usually handles deliveries himself, and with someone like Mrs. Doyle. She’s kind of…” She waved her free hand in the air. “A lot.”
“Well, he seemed pretty insistent that he couldn’t do it today. Something about having to meet with a supplier.” I shrugged. “I figured it was no big deal. How hard can it be to deliver a Christmas tree?”
The look she gave me suggested I had no idea what I was getting into. “Right. Okay. Let me just grab my purse and lock up the register.” She disappeared into the little shed that served as their office, emerging a minute later with a crossbody bag slung over her shoulder.
“Which tree are we taking?” I asked.
I followed her to a perfectly shaped Fraser fir that had to be at least seven feet tall. Sure enough, a tag on it labeled it as belonging to Mrs. Doyle.
She bent to grab one end. “If we work together, we can probably get it loaded without too much?—”
“Nope.” I gently moved her hands away from the tree. “I’ve got this.”
“It’s heavy,” she protested. “And awkward. Two people is definitely easier.”
“I’m sure it is, but I’d rather you didn’t throw your back out helping me.” I tested the weight of the tree, finding the balance point. “Besides, I’ve moved heavier things than this.”
She crossed her arms, looking skeptical. “Military training?”
“Something like that.” I hoisted the tree, getting a good grip on the trunk. “Could you grab my tailgate?”
She hurried ahead to my truck—a black pickup that had seen better days but still ran like a dream. I’d backed it up as close to the tree rows as I could get, so it was only about twenty feet to the truck bed.
The tree was heavy, and the branches kept trying to catch on everything, but I managed to wrestle it to the truck without too much trouble. Lainey had lowered the tailgate and was watching me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“Impressive,” she said as I slid the tree into the bed and secured it with bungee cords. “Very caveman of you.”
I grinned at her. “Glad you approve. Ready to go?”
She glanced around the lot, and I could see her hesitation. A couple of teenagers were manning the register and helping customers browse, but it was clear she felt responsible for the place.
“They seem to have things under control,” I pointed out. “And your brother did say you needed to come with me.”
