“Ha! Been there.”
“What’dyoudo?”
“At the risk of sounding like a sleazeball, wewereinvolved at one point, but she broke it off when she realized I wasn’t interested in a relationship.”
“A woman who stands by what she wants. I like it.” She sounds like she’s proud of Tamar.
“Well, if it makes you feel better, she tossed me out on my ass and in only my boxers, too.”
Elizabeth roars a laugh, tossing her head back as though she can envision just that. “Damn, you must’ve pissed her off.”
“Yeah, I learned real quick not to mess with her, and definitely not tell her I didn’t want anything serious while still in her bed.”
“Ah, what valuable lessons to learn. You shouldn’t do that toanywoman. Good for her!”
“Yeah, not so good for me, though.”
“But it serves you right,” she muses.
“Mmm hmm.” I feign a stern look. “What are you doing out this far in the mountains on Christmas Eve, anyway?”
“How do you know I don’t live here?” she counters.
“Trust me, I’d know it if you did.”
Our eyes meet again, and it practically takes my breath away.
Why does she have to be so gorgeous?
Especially since she doesn’t live here.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks quietly.
“Like what?” I grumble, averting my gaze. Focusing on her ankle, I shift the ice.
But she doesn’t press further. Instead, she changes the subject. “So what’s the verdict? You think I can walk on the sucker?”
“More than likely. It doesn’t seem to be broken, obviously, and honestly, it doesn’t seem to be sprained either. You probably just landed on it wrong and twisted it a little. Do you want to try standing?”
“Sure.” She accepts my hand and I help lift her to her feet.
“How does it feel?”
“Not great, but not terrible, either. I should be fine. Thank you so much for your help. I’m so sorry I knocked over the trees. Can I help you put them back upright?”
I shrug. “I’m not gonna deal with it until after the holiday. We’re not open tomorrow, so it doesn’t need to look pretty.”
“What do you do with all the trees that aren’t sold?” She lifts her foot into the air so she can gently move it around, testing how it feels.
“Take them back home and chop them up. Prep them for firewood. Donate them, if anyone wants a tree after Christmas. That kind of thing.”
“That’s cool.” She pushes her hands in her pockets, looking down, as though she isn’t sure what to do next.
Part of me wants to invite her to stay, but the other part knows that it’s probably not worth the trouble.
“Oh, here.” I reach for the hot cocoa I sat on the table. “This is for you. Hopefully you like hot chocolate–it'll warm you up a bit.”
When she takes it, her fingers brush against mine, and the moment our skin touches, our gazes lock. I probably imagine it, but it feels like a current of electricity rushes between us.
