Page 16 of Mistletoe & Magic
We stand there in the soft glow of the lights, sipping cocoa. I sneak glances at him when I think he’s not looking. It’s unfair how sexy he looks without even trying. Every time I’m around him, I feel like I notice something new about him and…I love it. His dark lashes, that perpetually serious expression. But tonight there’s something else underneath it. Something almost…unguarded. Like he’s thawing.
He catches me looking, and for a heartbeat neither of us looks away.
“Are you cold?” he asks, nodding toward the flannel shirt I threw on over my pajamas.
I shrug. “I’m fine.”
“I’ll check the heater. Sometimes it gets colder in your room,” he says.
“Thanks,” I say.
He takes another sip of cocoa and says, “Thanks…for today. For keeping her happy.”
Something warm blooms in my chest at the words. “Anytime.”
He sets his empty mug in the sink and glances toward the living room again. His eyes linger on the garland over the front door, the wreath over the mantle, the twinkle of the lights. I don’t know whether he likes it. He heads down the hall without another word, and I watch him go, his broad frame filling the doorway. He moves like a man carrying too much, but tonight… maybe it’s just a little less.
The room is warmer now. I curl under the blankets, my hair still smelling faintly of oranges, my chest still warm from cocoa and the smallest crack in Remy Bennett’s armor.
He’s not exactly warm yet, but we’ll get there.
But maybe…just maybe…I’ve started the fire.
Chapter 6
Remy
My brother Finn’s truck pulls up just before sunrise, and he strides into the barn like he’s on a mission. He claps me on the shoulder, steals my wrench, and starts inspecting the tree shaker like he’s the supervisor and I’m his employee. “You look less feral today,” he says, eying me. “Did you finally sleep over four hours, or is it because of your new nanny everyone’s talking about?”
“Be quiet and help me fix this.”
I grumble with frustration at the machine that stopped working. I can fix most things, but Finn can fixanything.He builds what he cannot buy and turns rough boards into furniture that belongs in a magazine.
He laughs, works in silence for a minute, then glances toward the main house and asks more seriously, “How is Ivy doing with Junie?”
“Fine.” I ignore what he’s implying and check the order board. We are behind, but not in the weeds, thanks to my getting a head start today with Ivy here, who helped Junie get on the bus this morning.
Finn’s mouth tips into a smirk. “Saw she turned your houseinto a literal Christmas snow globe last night. Junie sent me and Mom pictures from her tablet.”
“I noticed,” I say, pretending to be chill. But I more than noticed; I freaking loved it. Coming home to a home-cooked meal and a house that looks and smells great is a dream come true.
The tree farm was our uncle Carl’s, and a place that I’ve always loved. As a kid, I came here as often as I could and worked alongside my uncle until I went off to college. And on every break, I was back here helping him. I loved being around him. He was pretty exceptional. He got sick and died a few years ago and left the farm to Finn and me. Finn had no interest, so I bought him out, and now it’s all mine. Finn’s out here all the time using the back barn to work on his woodworking projects, and I love having him around. Working on the farm here reminds me of our uncle and brings back good memories. It feels like he’s still here sometimes.
“How's the new house?” I ask, trying to change the subject, because I know he is itching to give me even more crap about Ivy and get under my skin, as brothers do. He recently purchased our friend Tate’s childhood home and has been slowly renovating it. Tate took a job out here as the tree farm manager and moved into a cabin on the back of the farm with his girlfriend, Willa, Ivy's sister.
“It’s going. Not as fast as I’d like—been busy with Rowan's new shop,” he says, and then catches himself and gives me a sideways look because he knows I could give him crap about Rowan. But I won’t. I've got too much on my mind to give him crap and shoot the shit.
Rowan is Ivy’s sister and is opening a new apothecary shop next to Willa’s bookstore, Wisteria Books & Brew.
“It’ll get there,” I tell him. “I’m heading out to help Tate with today’s load. Appreciate your help."
"I'll come down and help. I got a little bit of time this morning before I meet with the painters and Rowan," he grunts as he twists some bolts into place.
I nod and zip up my coat and head out into the cold, Finn following me to the truck. The tree lot stretches in rows of green, neat and waiting. It should make me feel calm. It usually does. Today, though, my thoughts keep going back to Ivy. I wonder what she’s doing and what they have planned for after school. What dinner she’s going to make. I shake myself out of it and remind myself that this is temporary. I shouldn't get used to it or get too excited.
Luckily, we have enough work to keep busy. Tate, Finn, and I load two fresh pallets onto the flatbed for Tate to deliver to a store in a nearby town. By the time we’re finished and heading to the farm store, Junie is on the bus and on her way to school, and the sun is fully up, casting a clear, pale light across the porch of the small farm stand building from which we sell just about every tree farm souvenir you can think of.
I hit the brakes and back up. There are bins of vintage ornaments I don’t remember setting out or owning. The chalkboard sign is neat, as if someone took the time to hand-letter it perfectly.What the hell?
