Page 28 of Holiday Unscripted
“Okay, then who do I talk to about getting a handsaw?”
I roll my eyes. “Have you even picked out a tree yet?” I ask her and she looks around.
“I want to be prepared, Nate.” She moves her foot, and she trips over a branch and falls flat on her face. The sunglasses fly off of her face as she uses her hands to stop the fall. I’m reaching out, but I’m not fast enough before she hits the ground.
I shake my head, making my way over to her, grabbing her glasses along the way. “How prepared are you now?” She pushes up on her elbows.
“Wow.” She turns on her back. “You aren’t even going to fall down for me.” She starts to get up and I hold out a hand for her. I’m thinking she’s going to grab it, but instead she slaps it away.
“I don’t need your help, Nate.” She gets to her feet and dusts off the snow from her leg and her arm, her hands now turning red.
“Where are your gloves?” I ask her and then hold up a hand. “Let me guess, they didn’t go with the outfit.” I reach into my pocket and pull out my own gloves. “Here, I’ll sacrifice frostbite for you.”
She comes to me, standing toe to toe. “I’d rather suffer frostbite than accept anything from you.”
“Well, if it makes you feel better,” I say, leaning down closer to her face, not sure I should say what I want to say, but also not caring anymore. She’s pushed every single one of my buttons since she paraded back into town. Not once even talking about that night to clear the air. If she doesn’t care, I’m not going to. At least this is what I’m telling myself. “I would sacrifice myself and get naked with you if it meant keeping you warm.” My words shock her, her mouth parting on a gasp. “Your glasses”—I hold them out to her—“wouldn’t want you to trip.”
CHAPTER 11
Elizabeth
CHRISTMAS TREE FARM
He smirks down at me, his stupid face with stupid stubble and an even more stupid chin. “Well, if it makes you feel better…” He leans closer to me and I can smell his musky scent. My hand itches to grab his jacket and pull him closer to me, to see if the kiss I remembered vaguely is as good as I think it is. Or is it maybe going to be horrible and I won’t want to kiss him anymore. “I would sacrifice myself and get naked with you if it meant keeping you warm.” I have imagined a bunch of words coming out of his mouth. But I never in all my life imagined him saying that to me. His words leave me in shock, my mouth hanging open, while other parts of me tighten, and if he wasn’t looking straight at me, I might even fucking shiver at his words. “Your glasses.” His hand comes up to hold up my glasses. “Wouldn’t want you to trip.”
I snatch them out of his hand and hiss, “You better watch where you are going.” I try not to sound like I’m panting from his words.
“Hey, you guys,” Jack says, running to us, “have you found anything you like?”
“Does it look like we’ve found anything we like?” I ask him, putting my sunglasses on so I can stare at him without him actually knowing.
“Someone is grouchy today,” he notes, trying not to laugh.
“Today?” Nate says, shaking his head. “How long has she been in town? She got grouchy probably the day before she landed.” He puts his hands on his hips, his jacket unzipped, showing the beige knitted sweater under it. You can see how soft it is, and I find myself wanting to touch it.
“Long enough to be tired of being harassed every single morning about my nipples,” I hiss at him, and Jack’s eyes widen as he looks at Nate, who holds up his hands.
“Relax,” he placates. “I haven’t seen her nipples out in the open, but she wears thin shirts, so I see what I don’t want to see.”
I tilt my head to the side. “It’s good to know you don’t want to see them.”
“That isn’t what I said,” he defends his words.
“This looks like fun,” Evie interrupts, coming to stand next to Jack, “are you guys arguing over which tree you want?” She wraps her arms around Jack’s waist.
“No, baby,” Jack says softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him before he then leans down to kiss her. “It’s about Nate not wanting to see Elizabeth’s nipples.”
“Oh, will the two of you get a room already?” I urge, walking past them and over to the other displays of trees that are now in a row from smallest to biggest.
I walk down and in between the different rows, looking at the trees with him following me. “Why are you following me?” I look over my shoulder.
“I’m following you because we are going to be getting one tree,” he tells me, “and we are going to agree on which one to get.”
“And I’m going to be the one to cut it down,” I declare, stopping at one that isn’t too tall but is full, and I run my hand over the pine needles.
“If you think you can cut down a tree”—his tone is condescending—“then I will watch you cut down a tree.”
“Oh, I’m going to cut it down all right,” I assure, “and it’s going to be this one.”
