Alex appeared beside us like he’d been waiting by the door. “Adrian! Maddox! Perfect timing.” His smile was bright, but I caught an edge of nervous energy underneath. “I’ve got threeflights set up for you—the cocktails, the wines, and the whiskies, paired with some small bites I thought would photograph well.”
“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” I said, though I was already mentally cataloging the best way to capture everything. The man had clearly put serious effort into this, and I wanted to get him as much publicity as possible.
“Are you kidding? This is a great opportunity for Timber. Plus…” Alex grinned. “I’ve been dying to show off these holiday cocktail recipes I’ve been working on. Fair warning, though—they’re stronger than they taste.”
Maddox was already scoping out camera angles, his professional eye assessing the lighting. “This’ll work great. The ambiance is perfect for the cozy winter vibe Adrian’s fans have been enjoying.”
The fact that Maddox had paid enough attention to my posts to know how they were being received made something warm inside of me. I was proud of my work, of the platform I’d built, and I was even prouder of the work we’d done together.
I watched Maddox work, noting how much more relaxed he seemed in public now. No more careful distance between us, no more worried glances to see who might be watching. When he caught me staring and winked, my stomach did that familiar flip that I was beginning to associate with being completely gone for this man.
“Alright, let’s get you started,” Alex said, leading us to a table near the fireplace, where he’d arranged three beautiful flights. Each one was artfully presented with appropriate glassware and small cards describing the offerings. It was the kind of setup that would make my followers weep with envy.
As Maddox adjusted his camera equipment, I found myself distracted by the way his dark sweater stretched across his shoulders.Mydark sweater, actually. Before hopping out of the truck,he’d sheepishly asked if I wanted him to wear a Nordique piece since I was wearing his shirt. I’d whipped one out of the overnight bag I’d packed.
There hadn’t been a chance in hell of me saying no.
The combination of my clothes on his body and his shoulders stretching the Borealis Noir sweater more than mine ever would was doing things to my concentration that had nothing to do with alcohol.
“You’re staring again,” he murmured without looking up from his camera.
“Can you blame me? You look very… competent right now.”
“Competent?” He raised an eyebrow, fighting a smile. “That’s the sexiest compliment I’ve ever received.”
“Is that so? Because I could go on—” I began, giving him a heated look.
Alex cleared his throat pointedly. “Should I leave you two alone with the alcohol, or…?”
“Shit, fuck,” I said quickly, trying not to notice Maddox’s knowing smirk. “Sorry. We’re ready.”
“I’m just watching the hard worker in action,” Maddox said, batting his eyelashes like an asshole.
Before I could formulate a snarky response, the front door opened with enough force to rattle the windows. Chief Judd Kincaid strode in like he owned the place, tablet in hand and an expression that could curdle milk on his handsome face.
The change in Alex was immediate and dramatic. His shoulders tensed, his smile disappeared, and I swear the temperature in our corner of the bar dropped lower than the outside temp.
“Oh, for the love of fucking Christ,” Alex muttered under his breath.
“Someone grab the popcorn,” Maddox murmured under his breath. “Shit’s about to get complicated.”
“By complicated, you mean Kincaid’s about to make my night a living hell with another ridiculous inspection to make sure Timber’s living up to his impossible standards,” Alex said, not bothering to lower his voice as Judd approached the bar.
I watched the fire chief work his way toward us, noting how his presence seemed to part crowds like the Red Sea. He was objectively attractive in a rugged, authority-figure way that probably made half the town weak in the knees, but something about the way he moved—purposeful and slightly aggressive—made me understand Alex’s hostility.
“Evening, Firebug,” Judd called, his deep voice carrying easily across the bar. “Hope you’re not burning anything down, with all of these poor innocent townsfolk trying to enjoy the holiday season.”
Alex inhaled sharply through his nose. “You know what? I actually expected you tonight, Kincaid. It’s been a whole week since your last inspection,” he shot back. “Figured you were due for another power trip.”
The tension between them was so thick you could cut it with a knife. I glanced at Maddox, who was watching the exchange with barely concealed amusement.
“This happens often?” I whispered.
“About twice a month,” he replied. “They’ve been dancing around each other like angry cats since summer.”
Judd had reached the bar now and was making a show of examining the holiday decorations with his flashlight. “These lights properly secured? Electrical cords in good condition? You know what happens when bars get careless with their wiring.”
“The lights are fine. The cords are fine.Everythingis fine,” Alex said through gritted teeth. “It was one time, Kincaid. And nothing fucking happened.”
