“He’s been with us for a long time. I’m setting up a meeting with John after Thanksgiving.”

  “After you go down to your little tree farm.”

  “I do it on my own time.”

  “You won’t have time once you marry Helena.”

  I looked down at my glass. “We aren’t to that point.”

  “You would be if you’d get a move on,” he grumbled.

  “What’s the hurry?” I stifled the ever-present twist in my gut when it came to actually moving forward with Helena. I glanced across the room to where she was standing with her brother. She spotted me and gave me a soft smile.

  She was beautiful in that ethereal way that made men want to protect her. Willowy, blond, and poised—she was literally tailor made to be arm candy for a man of my social stature.

  So why was I longing for the surly, smart mouth of a certain brunette?

  Hell, a few months ago I’d even been on board with the plan. But as usual, November always fucked me up. Even my skin felt too tight. This time of year, a suit became more like a noose.

  Usually, my few weekends away set me up right, and I could slip back into my usual patterns of work and social responsibilities.

  Now all I could think about was what she was doing down there. Because she was stubborn and still used a damn flip phone.

  And she probably hadn’t even opened the box I’d sent her with a phone from this decade. What woman in this day and age used a flip phone? Especially since she was more than adept at technology. Her marketing brain was a sight to behold.

  “Where are you?”

  I blinked back into the conversation and opened my mouth to talk about work.

  My grandfather narrowed his eyes. “Don’t give me the work speech. Obviously, that’s not where your head is at.”

  “Not this work.” That was easy enough to use as an excuse. Not the summer-blue eyes of a certain pain in my ass I couldn’t stop thinking about.

  “What on earth can a Christmas tree farm have as a problem? Turnbull is about as out of the way as you can get. Customers drive to you, you cut the tree, you put it on the roof—simple.”

  “We’re putting our first hybrids up for sale this year. I’ve been focusing on marketing more than I usually do.”

  “Hmm.”

  I wasn’t sure he bought it, but I was saved by Helena and her brother Matthew. After a few pleasantries, Matthew and my grandfather fell into conversation about golf. Since I detested the game, I was left with small talk.

  I held my arm out for her, and she slid her arm around mine. “I didn’t see you at the Jennings’ on Sunday.”

  “I was detained upstate by the weather.”

  “Oh.” She frowned. “What’s up there?”

  “I have a small business I take care of seasonally.”

  “You are very diversified.”

  I smiled down at her as we walked toward the balcony doors. It was her polite way of not asking questions. Which I appreciated, because it felt weird to talk about my tree farm. It had always been something just for me.

  If Helena was supposed to be my forever person, wouldn’t I want to share it with her?

  With that disturbing thought, I let myself be easily distracted with some mutual friends. Helena was charming and kept the conversations moving smoothly. She headed a lot of charities and was often convincing one or all of us to make donations.

  She gripped my arm lightly. Her light lavender scent wasn’t cloying, but it didn’t stir me in any way. I was barely listening to what she was saying, just nodding and throwing a comment in as was needed. Her hand slid down my forearm to my hand, linking our hands.

  Suddenly, her grip tightened and I looked up.

  I followed her gaze and my own grip tightened too. My jaw locked and I straightened my shoulders. Reid Pierce strode through the room as if he owned it. Where I’d gone more mainstream tech, Reid dominated the programming end.

  Instead of avoiding me like he normally did, he came right for me. Helena stiffened beside me and I frowned down at her. “Everything all right?”

  “Yes, of course.” Her genial smile smoothed over her features and her grip lessened. But she didn’t let go of my hand. Which was odd, since we were definitely not the hand-holding type of couple.

  Not that we were truly a couple at all. But appearances could be deceiving. Sometimes on purpose.

  She moved toward me, and gently, I slipped my hand out of hers to rest at her lower back. She laid a hand on the lapel of my suit. I glanced up at Reid and was surprised to see his sharp features zeroed in on her.

  The conversation around us drifted into silence.

  “Pierce,” I said lightly.

  He nodded curtly, but his gaze never wavered from Helena. His focus drifted to where her hand was, his jaw flexing with disdain before his face went blank. “Miss Danbury.”

  “Mr. Pierce.” Her voice was almost sharp, which was definitely unlike her.

  I gathered her closer. The urge to protect was ingrained. Mostly because Reid Pierce was a far more dangerous man than Helena should have to handle.

  Once upon a time, we’d been as close as brothers. But he wasn’t the same man from our childhood. He was harder, colder, more ruthless, both in business and in the swath of relationship shrapnel he left behind. Most of the women he was linked up with knew the score, but there were more than a few who hoped to change him. They were wrong to think they could.

  Helena was definitely not the kind of woman for him.

  The fact that I’d had a hand in what Pierce had become was one of the biggest regrets of my life. He’d made all his choices after that fateful day. And that part was on him.

  “When are you finally going to make an honest woman out of her, Clay?” Jeannie Murray asked, probably in an effort to cut the heaviness.

  She didn’t succeed.

  Reid’s winter gray eyes seared though his body language was relaxed. He’d dipped one hand in his pocket and the other held a glass of wine. “Yes, when will that be happening, Winslow?”

  My molars throbbed, but my jaw wouldn’t unlock. I knew Reid’s tells, even after all this time. I knew he had a star-shaped coin in his pocket that he scraped across his thumb when he was trying to project an outward sense of calm.

  But there was no way I could get out of the question. Helena braced and I had no choice but to protect her. I lifted my glass to him. “’Tis the season. Anything can happen.” I smiled down at her and brushed my lips across her forehead.

  Her fingers curled into the material of my suit jacket. Her smile was serene, but her gaze kept bouncing up to Reid.

  Was there something between them already?

  I had no hold on her, but I didn’t think she and Reid would be a good match. For her sake.

  Jeannie gave a happy, bubbly cry of excitement. She drew Helena away from me. She was swallowed into a circle of chirping women chattering in low voices.

  The murmurs spread and my stomach plummeted.

  Fuck.

  A waiter slid into my periphery and I motioned to him, setting my glass on his tray before I gave my excuses to escape. My grandfather waved to me, his face split in a delighted smile.

  By morning, the news would hit all the news outlets.

  Billionaire Clay Winslow to wed Danbury heiress.

  I had to get out of there.

  I wove my way around people, giving half smiles and excuses as I hauled ass for the front of the ballroom. Ransom met me at the door. As usual, he was lurking and always one second away from enacting some training exercise only he knew about.

  For once, I was glad he knew how to exit any building.

  He fell into step with me. “What the fuck happened with Reid?”

  “Later. Just get me out of here.”

  He jerked his head toward the left. “There’s a service entrance that way. I parked the car near there.”

  I nodded, unable to respond in any other way. Responsibilities be damned, I had one focus right now and it wasn’t Manhattan.

  Ransom was one step removed from a secret service agent with his level of skill at making a quick escape. In seconds, we were bustling through the doorway and out into the crisp November air. A warm front had lured people out for evening walks and we were quickly engulfed in a crowd.

  “You know there’s parking at this venue.”

  “And look at how handy it is that I don’t use venue parking.” Ransom nodded toward a side street.

  Our strides were purposeful, and in no time, we were climbing into his favored BMW. He pulled into traffic and like a seasoned cab driver, he changed lanes with wild abandon.

  “Now what the fuck just happened? Whatever went down, I swear all those rich people were humming like a hive.”

  “I don’t even know. One second, I was doing the small talk thing.”

  “I hate that shit.”

  “Well, it’s not my favorite.”

  Ransom grunted.

  “And then there was some weird shit going on between Reid and Helena.”

  “Danbury?” Ransom’s dark brows snapped down over his hooded eyes.

  “How many Helenas do you know?”

  Ransom didn’t say anything, but his side-eye was far better than words.

  I slumped in my seat. “What a fucking cluster.”

  “You were going to marry this chick anyway, weren’t you?”

  I raked my fingers through my hair, but didn’t answer. For the longest time, my ties to Helena had been part of a nebulous future. A someday that I had to deal with eventually.

  That definitely wasn’t the case any longer.

  Fuck me.

  “Where are we headed?”

  “Turnbull.”

  Ransom let out a long breath. “I knew you were gonna say that.”

  Chapter 13

  Rachel

  Hail Mary 337

  The gift shop was unusually busy for the middle of the week. Enough that Taylor called me in as reinforcements as well as two other of our part-timers. I’d been working around the clock on the CocoaBus. Yeah, that happened.

  It had no chance for another name.

  But it was growing on me. And truly, the shop was keeping me from losing my mind anyway. Tonight was the first tasting of the different kinds of cocoa I was hoping to set up for sale. Honestly, I was tired of tasting them, but I was too nervous to try them on anyone else.

  No matter how many times Justin bugged me for a cup.

  Or how silent a certain city boy was.

  Not that I was good at replying to him in the first place, but I’d been getting used to the texts. And then they’d just disappeared around Friday.

  Then he hadn’t shown up this past weekend.

  I ripped off a sheet of wrapping paper—aggressively.

  I winced when Taylor’s head swiveled and she gave me a hard look. I mouthed an apology and brought the sheet of evergreen plaid down to the table littered with wrapping remnants and a stack of excess paper. I probably should have looked down here first, but the box I had to wrap was pretty large.

  The woman who had purchased the rustic frame was loitering at the registers, her gaze feasting on my cousins who had come in with a delivery. I was more than happy to take a slice of silence-ish. We hadn’t even hit Thanksgiving yet, but the holiday music was blaring loud and proud.

  Reminder! Buy, buy, buy!

  And boy, were they.

  I folded the paper over the box and muttered when they didn’t meet. Dammit. Then I remembered the trick Taylor had taught me and twisted the paper slightly and jury-rigged a better wrapping style. I even made a flap pocket for the creamy gift cards we had on hand. I tucked a sprig of baby’s breath beside it and tied a quick bow.

  I went back to my customer. “Ma’am?”

  No response.

  I repeated myself twice. The last one seemed to finally grab her attention.

  The woman with the messy bun and a slightly slack jaw turned back to me. “Sorry.” She looked down at the package and back up at me. “Wow. Can I bring all my presents here?”

  “Definitely not.” I gave her what I hoped was a friendly smile and pushed her package over to her, then I pointed to the tip jar. “Tips are used to buy presents for the kids stuck in the hospital during the holidays.”

  “Oh, that’s sweet.”

  “We try.”

  She stuffed a twenty in the cookie jar.

  “We appreciate it.”

  “Thanks for the wrap and the eye candy. Not sure how you pay attention.”

  “They’re my cousins.”

  “All five of them? What a shame.”

  “Five?”

  I glanced over to where a crowd had gathered. A familiar set of leather-clad shoulders made my chest tighten. He was next to his iniquitous shadow Ransom, and it looked as if he’d gotten a haircut while he’d been away. I didn’t miss the curls. Nope, not one bit.

  How dare he just walk in here like he hadn’t blown me off last weekend?

  I gripped the tape dispenser by me, fisting it like a weapon.

  The woman’s eyes widened.

  “Don’t worry. Even if I hit him with it, he wouldn’t feel it. Damn hard head.”

  She turned and rushed away.

  Another woman popped up in front of me. She glanced down at my hand, then to where I was staring.

  I tried to shake it off, relaxing my grip.

  She patted my hand. “It’s not worth it. Jail food sucks.”

  I laughed—probably for the first time that day. “Do I want to know why you know that?”

  She shrugged and pushed her small box in front of me. “I used to be a corrections officer.”

  I shuffled through the pile of paper beside me. “Oh, wow. Bet you have stories.”

  “More than I could tell in a lifetime.”

  We chatted a little more as I prettied up her package, tying one of my best gold bows for her with a flourish. “Thanks for shopping with us.”

  “Are you new? I always try to get out here at least once a season.”

  “Just helping out. I’m actually working mostly over at the Christmas tree farm.”

  “Oh, how exciting. We’ll be back for a Christmas tree. I just signed up for the newsletter.”

  “Well, make sure you open that newsletter.” I leaned in and lowered my voice. “We’re having a special customer appreciation preview this weekend. Newsletter subscribers only.”

  Her eyes lit up. “I’ll definitely look for it. I’m usually bummed that I miss all the good trees.”

  “We have very special trees coming out this year.” I tried to remember what Clay had told me. Something about good needle staying power. Not in those words of course. I really had to get that straight before this weekend rolled around.

  “Oh?”

  I nodded and pushed the package back to her. “If you hate needles dropping like your credit score in the holiday months, you’re going to want these new hybrid trees.”

  She gave a surprised laugh. “I like you. Might not want to use that in the newsletter though.”

  “Yeah. It was a rough draft.”

  She kept laughing as she scooped up her box and tucked it away in her shopping bag. “Have a nice holiday if I don’t see you.”

  “Well, if you come to the tree stand, you’ll see me by the hot cocoa. Won’t be able to miss me.”

  “You got yourself a date.”

  I laughed. “See you then.”

  “Making dates without me?”

  Clay’s voice had me gripping the tape dispenser again—enough that the little teeth dug into my palm.

  He glanced down at my hand with a raised brow.

  I gave him my best customer service smile. “Did you have something you needed wrapped, sir?”

  He pressed his palms to the table. “You know very well I do.”

  “Only things that are purchased here in the store are eligible for our free gift wrap.”

  “How much do you cost?” His eyes darkened.

  “Priceless.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  I swallowed. I would not be swayed by his charm. If you could even call this charm. “What are you doing here?”

  “We have lots of work to do for the weekend.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t you have a day job?” Hell, I didn’t even know his last name, let alone what the tech part of his job was. I literally knew nothing about this man. Which made so much of this easier.

  Intelligent? No. Not one little bit, but I couldn’t take another complication in my life. Even if he had amazing shoulders and…other things.

  But he definitely had blown me off for days.

  His gaze slid down to my hand and he peeled my fingers free of the old brown tape dispenser. “Well, if you’d actually answer my text messages, I may have remembered to give you some updates.”

  “I thought I was your Dear Diary. You didn’t mind me not replying.”

  He winced and looked over his shoulder as if making sure someone hadn’t overheard me.

  “Should I say it a little louder?”

  “No,” he gritted out between his teeth.

  I stuffed down the annoyance and—nope, I didn’t have any right to be hurt that he hadn’t contacted me. That he didn’t show up on the weekend.

  That he hadn’t done what he said he would.

  We weren’t in that kind of relationship. We weren’t in any relationship. We’d had sex. No big deal. I didn’t want it to be a big deal anyway.

  He curled his fingers around mine. “Work was a clusterfuck,” he lowered his voice. “But I wanted to be here every damn night. Is that what you want to hear?”

  “No,” I whispered furiously. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It does. I said I’d be here.” Something flitted across his face. Disappointment? “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

  “I’m working.”

  He huffed out a breath. “Fine. Meet me at the tree farm after your shift.”

  “What if I have plans?” I lifted my chin.