“High praise indeed.” I returned his smile, surprised by how good it felt to crack through his defenses. “And maybe you’re not a completely judgmental asshole.”
“Don’t bet on it,” he warned, but the warmth in his eyes belied the gruffness of his tone. “I still have eleven more ‘dates’ to prove you wrong.” His finger quotes drew my attention to his strong hands. The kind of hands that snuck unbidden images into my head. Things he could do to me with those hands if given the chance.
I cleared my throat. “Eleven more dates to change your mind about me, you mean,” I corrected, raising my mug in a toast.
Maddox clinked his mug against mine. “We’ll see who converts whom.”
Maya cleared her throat loudly. “Um, guys? We about done, or do you want to keep doing… whatever this is?”
The sound of other conversations and clinking mugs nearby seemed to burst the strange bubble we’d been in. I’d completely forgotten about the camera or the hot chocolate tasting.
Judging by Maddox’s startled expression, so had he.
“Right.” I straightened, professional mask sliding back into place. “So that concludes our tour of the Marian family’s famous hot chocolate flight, the perfect holiday indulgence for visitors to Legacy, Montana. Stay tuned for my next ‘Twelve Dates of Christmas’ adventure! And a special thanks to Nordique for hooking me up with their delicious merino Selwyn trousers and what has to be the softest cashmere sweater I’ve ever worn.” I held out my arm to show the sweater off to the lens.
Maddox surprised me by reaching over to run a hand up my forearm. “That is nice,” he said, his voice a deep rumble. “My father had a Nordique fisherman’s sweater passed down from his father. It didn’t feel like this, though.”
I swallowed. “It’s, ah… it’s the Calden crewneck,” I said, trying to take advantage of the unexpected product-focused moment. “It also comes in a gorgeous mossy-green color.”
He blinked at me and stood up, scraping his chair against the wooden floor. “Cut. That’s… that’s good. Got what we needed. I should check in on Alex, make sure he’s okay.” He pulled out his phone, avoiding eye contact. “Maya, can you help pack up while I make this call?”
Without waiting for a response, he strode toward the door, already dialing as he went.
Maya watched him go, then turned to me with a raised eyebrow. “So that was…”
“A good start to the series,” I finished professionally, despite my confusion over Maddox’s behavior. “Your brother has a natural camera presence. Once he takes the stick out of his ass.”
“Uh-huh.” Her tone was heavy with implication. “That’s one thought. Another is that what the two of you just shot was the most chemistry I’ve seen my brother have with anyone since… well, ever.”
I felt heat rising in my cheeks and blamed it on the fire. “We were playing to the camera. That’s what content creation is—manufacturing moments that resonate.”
“You know he still has that sweater,” she said in a softer tone. “He keeps it in his desk at the store like a lucky charm. I didn’t realize it was Nordique. That’s kind of cool.”
Before I could respond, Maddox returned, his expression thunderous. “Alex isn’t answering. But Ella just texted to checkhow the shoot went, which is interesting, considering she was the one supposedly going over to nurse Alex.”
Maya suddenly became very interested in packing up the camera equipment.
“What are you saying?” I asked.
Maddox’s eyes narrowed. “I’m saying something is fishy about his last-minute cancellation.” He turned to his sister. “Maya, do you know anything about this?”
“Me?” She blinked innocently. “Why wouldIknow anything?”
“Because you and Rosie Marian have been known to pull… shenanigans.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Maya protested, though her cheeks flushed tellingly. “Maybe Alex really is sick. Or maybe he got a better offer. Or maybe the universe just wanted you two to have hot chocolate together. Cosmic alignment. Serendipity. Whatever. Don’t blame your adorable sister or her beloved former babysitter.”
Maddox looked unconvinced. “You have five minutes to strengthen your defenses against a detailed interrogation,” he promised his sister before turning back to me. “I promise I’ll arrange a backup plan for your next date.”
I blinked. “What kind of backup plan?”
“In case we have another mysterious cancellation.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure the guy was just under the weather. Besides—” I gestured between us. “—this worked well. The footage will be good—honest reactions, genuine conversation. If tomorrow’s date falls through, we could always?—”
“No,” Maddox said firmly. “Absolutely not. Today was a onetime emergency solution.”
“But—”
