“Cleaner?”

  “We’re cutting down a tree. What did you think we were doing?”

  “Oh!” She stuffed her hands into her pockets. “Well, that makes more sense.”

  “No more murder podcasts for you.”

  “Small towns. They’re the dangerous ones.”

  I shook my head and held out my other hand to her. “I should have told you to wear sturdier boots.”

  “I can do anything in heels.”

  I frowned down at her. “I think this is the first time I’ve actually seen you in anything other than sneakers or hiking boots.”

  “You don’t know everything about me.” She brushed my arm as she passed me.

  “You don’t know where you’re going,” I called after her.

  She huffed out a breath and came to an abrupt halt. “Fine. Where are we going?”

  I held out my hand to her again. “I know it’s painful not to know what’s going on, but trust me.”

  She pressed her lips together so hard that they went white before she finally slipped her cool hand in mine.

  “Where are your gloves?”

  “I have no idea. I lose them all the time.”

  “We’ll make this quick.” I pulled her into the rows of trees. Her other hand drifted over the branches here and there. The wonder and pleasure in her face made me ache in places I didn’t want to examine.

  Just as the sun was dipping and the sky was little more than fire and filmy clouds, I led her in front of the three trees I’d been nurturing since they were seedlings.

  I dropped my saw and gloves and put my hands on my hips to watch her.

  She tilted her head in that way I was learning meant she was studying every detail. She stepped forward and touched the soft needles before moving to the second tree and finally, the one tucked a little behind.

  She tipped her head back, her dark hair swinging in the light breeze. It was a big tree. Full and tall, brimming with perfect little nooks for big and small ornaments.

  “Is this one of your hybrids?”

  “Sure is.”

  She fanned her hand along the plush blue-green needles. “I like this one.”

  Something in my belly eased. She’d picked the one I loved too. The other two were nearly perfect. Too perfect. This one was somehow sturdier and homey. A few of the branches a little too wide.

  The kind that you wanted to put next to the fireplace and stack packages under. The kind that should be shared with a family.

  I wasn’t sure where that thought had come from. I’d never thought about kids. Not because I didn’t want them, just that they were a nebulous thing in the future.

  The fact that I just pictured a little girl with dark pigtails should have made me run for my truck. Instead, I stepped forward and slid my arm along Rachel’s hip and around her middle, pulling her back against me.

  “Want to cut down your first Christmas tree, Rach?”

  She glanced up at me. “What makes you think it’s my first?”

  I grinned down at her. “Isn’t it?”

  She wrinkled her nose at me. “Fine. Yes, it is. The only real trees I’ve ever been around were in the lodge. My mother never liked the mess.”

  “Well, one of the selling points of these are the lack of needles everywhere. Not saying they don’t lose them of course, just not quite as fast as a regular fir tree.”

  I brushed my chin against the top of her head. “The full branches and color comes from eastern white pine. See how she has those wide bows?” I tucked my hand under Rachel’s vest to the soft cotton of her shirt covering her belly.

  She shivered against me. “Yes.”

  “But the eastern white doesn’t have quite enough fullness.” My thumb brushed along her ribs just under her breast. “So that’s where the scotch pine comes in. It’s sturdy and perfect for those tree-trimming parties Hallmark makes every woman want.”

  She elbowed me sharply.

  I laughed. “Okay, some women.” She tried to wiggle away, but I held tight and kissed her neck. “At least that was the plan once upon a time when I started this venture.”

  She relaxed against me. “And now?”

  “Now I’m just glad I have you to share it with.”

  She stiffened. “Clay…”

  “No one in my family gives a shit about this tree farm except me. Actually, no, let me rephrase. I never wanted to share it with anyone. My parents are too wrapped up in their scholarly pursuits. Both of them traveling to the ends of the earth for research or pure curiosity.”

  She twisted in my arms, placing her hands on my chest. “Let me guess…you didn’t get a tree either?”

  I lowered my face until our lips lined up. “Nope. My grandfather had one though. But it was put up by a decorator every year.”

  “No special ornaments?”

  I touched my forehead to hers. “A few in the back of my closet.”

  “Here?”

  It was galling to admit, but yes, they were here instead of at my place in the city. It never seemed to fit my life there. Even my tree was set up by a decorator for the one Christmas dinner I usually had. But not here.

  She went up on her toes. “Are we going to decorate a tree?”

  “Would you decorate a tree with me?”

  “Can we stop at my place?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay, then let’s cut this sucker down.” She chewed on the corner of her lip. “Can I cut it?”

  “Have you ever used a saw?”

  She slipped off her scarf and dropped it on the ground. “Okay, no. But you can use those thick gloves to hold the tree and I’ll crawl under there.”

  “In your heels?” I couldn’t stop the smile.

  “What did I say about my heels?”

  “You can do anything in them.” My smile widened. “We’ll see about that.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Pervert.”

  “Can’t blame a guy.”

  She rolled her eyes, but a smile broke out on her face. “Hurry, before we lose all the light.” She rushed over to the tree.

  “Bossy.”

  She tossed a smile over her shoulder with a wink. “You love it.”

  I did. That was exactly what worried me. But not enough to stop whatever this was.

  I grabbed my gloves and the saw.

  “This is a little more difficult than it looks.”

  “Give me the saw.”

  “You sure you don’t want me to start it?”

  “I’m stronger than I look.” She held out her hand.

  I handed her the saw and one of my gloves. “At least wear these. It’s freaking cold.”

  “Fine.” She pulled it on and it was comically large, but she was a good sport. She crouched, then slid under the tree, digging her three inch-block heels in the dirt to get herself situated.

  “Why don’t you—”

  I hurriedly put on my own glove and reached through the branches to hold onto the trunk. Okay, so she wasn’t such a novice. Then again, she’d been building and helping Justin with the CocoaBus for over a week. I’d bet a dozen stock shares that she’d been very hands on in the whole installation.

  Justin had sent me photos of the inside and it was beyond impressive for a little side part of the tree business. Then again, it seemed as if Rachel didn’t do anything by half measures.

  The trunk of the tree vibrated with her sawing and I had to grip it with both hands, the other one getting full of sap as I felt it start to give.

  “Okay, I’m almost through. I probably won’t be able to lift my arms tomorrow, but I almost got it.”

  I peered through the branches, but full dark was inching over the tree farm. All I saw was a red beanie bouncing with the force of her cuts.

  Once I felt the tree tip my way, I shouted, “Okay, stop.”

  “I still have a little left.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t want it to come down on your head. Come on out of there.”

  “Okay, okay.” She rolled out, pine needles scattering around my boots.

  I wiggled it until I felt it free. I held out my other hand. “Can you put the other glove on me?”

  She fumbled a bit, but finally got it straight so I could put my hand inside. My bicep was trembling a little from holding the tree.

  Damn thing was about nine feet.

  “She’s beautiful.”

  “Why don’t you go start the truck and warm up?”

  “Don’t you need help?” She shook back her hair and needles flew free. “Hey, didn’t you say it didn’t lose needles?”

  “First of all, I think one of us getting full of sap is enough. And second, you were shaking the tree like crazy, think that won’t shed some needles?”

  “Fair enough.” She loped off through the trees. She was correct. I guess she could do just about anything in heels.

  It took some swearing and sweat, but I finally managed to get the tree onto the bed of my truck. I used a bungee cord to keep it from flying off on the ride back to my cabin. I was pretty sure I’d need to order some bigger tree nets. Not everyone had a truck to haul a tree home.

  I was mentally making notes about what I needed to do when I climbed in. She’d pulled a notebook out of the cavernous purse she carried and was scribbling notes.

  We discussed a few tweaks for the checkout process at the farm. She pointed out a few things I’d missed about the whole cutting thing, and that we could make it a whole event for those who were into the process. Photos and video could be offered for an additional expense in the future.

  She was insanely bright when it came to marketing angles. I wanted to hire her for my own damn company in the city. But telling her about that would pop our little bubble.

  So I said nothing and just let her talk while I absorbed everything, making a few comments here and there.

  When we hit her place at the top of the hill, she finally took a breath.

  “Sorry. I didn’t realize I had so many things in my head. I mean, I know, because I always have ideas.”

  “I love that you do.”

  “Good.” She reached for the door handle. “I’ll be right back. I need to feed Gary too.”

  “Take your time.”

  “Okay.”

  Just before she closed the door, I signaled to her. “Hey, did you get a box?”

  She frowned. “In the mail?”

  “Yeah. I sent you something last week.”

  “Huh. Yeah, I did.”

  “And you didn’t open it?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t order anything.”

  “Grab the box.”

  “Fine. I guess you should come in then. I don’t have enough hands.”

  “Gee, such a welcome.”

  “Shut up. Just get inside.”

  “So bossy.” Evidently, I really got off on bossy.

  I might need to get my head examined. But not anytime soon, because I didn’t want the madness to end.

  Chapter 15

  Rachel

  It’s Just a Phone. Or Is It?

  I rushed in ahead of Clay, my gaze sweeping the room for my cat. Gary was curled in the club chair, where he usually was. When he wasn’t trying to escape anyway.

  However, I was pretty sure his one trip outside had scared him enough not to want to do it again, but you never really knew with a cat.

  “I’ll be right back,” I called as I hit the stairs running. Gary rushed around me on the stairs, trying to trip me. I’d never really lived with a cat before him. They were very odd creatures. I didn’t know if he was trying to protect me or take me out. Probably just wanted to be first.

  “Menace,” I muttered at the top. He was already cleaning his paw in the middle of the hallway.

  I rushed into my room and stared at my closet.

  Was I supposed to pack a bag?

  I didn’t know how this stuff worked in a small town. The walk of shame in the city was just another Tuesday. No one gave a crap. But here?

  I mean, was I supposed to assume I was staying over?

  Was I?

  Ugh. This was why I didn’t want to get involved with anyone, even if he had a superior cock. And whoa, did he ever. Even better, he actually knew how to use it.

  Okay, enough of that.

  I flipped off my work shirt. It had sap across the sleeve anyway. I tossed it in the small trash can in my bathroom. It wasn’t worth saving. I cleaned up and brushed my teeth. There had been a lot of coffee in my system today. After a quick brush of my hair, I tried to fluff out my bangs, but they were being stupid.

  I really had to get my hair cut. Or grow it out. I couldn’t remember a time when I didn’t have bangs.

  That was a problem for another day.

  I glanced down at the cotton bra I was wearing. Hmm. Would I look desperate if I put on something lacy?

  It wasn’t as if I had much to work with breast-wise, but I had a few cute bras in the back of my drawer. Before I could change my mind, I dug out a purple one and quickly swapped cotton for lace.

  “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “Doesn’t look ridiculous to me.”

  I whirled around and held my hands up over my chest. “Excuse you.”

  He grinned at me. “I’ve seen it all.” He came farther into the room and pulled my arm down. “Tasted it all too.” He lowered his mouth to my shoulder, sliding it over to the delicate strap. “Did you put this on for me?”

  I rolled my neck to the side to give him access. “No,” I said with a little groan.

  “Is that right?” He dragged his lips along my neck. “Sounded like it was for me.”

  “I’ll have you know lingerie is for… God, I missed that.” He brushed his nose along the shell of my ear then bit lightly.

  “Lingerie is for…”

  He did this swirl thing behind my ear that tickled and made my whole body buzz at the same time. His fingers traveled up over my ribs to cup my breast, his thumb lightly drifting over my nipple.

  “Okay, fine, it’s for you. I had a cotton one on before.”

  He straightened. “About killed you to fess up to that, huh?”

  I wrinkled my nose at him. “Smart ass.”

  His fingertips wandered to the center snap of the lace. “I really like this part.” He flicked it open and peeled it back off one breast. “I’ve missed these.”

  He cupped me gently, watching my face as he took his time to remember my shape.

  I wanted to look away. He was getting far too intense for my peace of mind, but it was like watching a car crash.

  You knew you shouldn’t. It never ended well. Either it was disappointing, or you saw blood—no in between.

  I had a pretty good idea there would be shrapnel, the jaws of life, and a totaled car in the wake of this thing between us. But dear God, that adrenaline.

  My heart raced so hard, I could hear it pounding in my head and lower. So much lower.

  He lightly pinched my nipple and I hissed out a breath. Finally, he broke the stare but only because his mouth had other plans.

  My head fell back as he drew on one, then the other, leaving neither one alone. Tasting, nibbling, sucking, plucking—he was relentless in the very best way possible.

  I slipped my fingers through what was left of his curls. There was the lightest rasp of his end of day scruff. I missed the soft prickles of his beard. It softened his face.

  Raking through his hair, I pulled his mouth to mine. I touched his lips. They were more angular, just like his face. I frowned at him.

  I wasn’t used to seeing him without the beard and he looked so different—and yet…something niggled.

  He bit the tip of my finger. “Where did you go?”

  “Was just thinking you look different without your beard.”

  “Oh.” Something flitted in his eyes before he swooped down and kissed me breathless.

  God, would I ever get used to how good he was at that?

  I went on my toes to get more, but his hands slid to my waist. “I’m supposed to be feeding you.”

  “Oh, you are.”

  He eased me back and tugged the cups of my bra back in place over my breasts, then twisted the catch shut. “I have plans for you.”

  “I picked up condoms.”

  He laughed. “Good to know.” He smoothed his hands up and down my arms. “I did too.” Then he peered over my shoulder. “Is that mine?”

  I turned and spotted his plaid shirt on the chair in my room. I’d almost burned it after I hadn’t heard from him for the third day in a row.

  Instead, I’d brought the stupid thing upstairs and slept in it.

  A flush heated my chest up to my neck. “Maybe.”

  He let me go to pick it up. “Did you sleep in it?”

  I lifted my chin. “No.”

  “Little liar.” He draped it over my shoulders and I shivered. “Put your arms in.”

  “It’s your shirt, not mine.”

  “Put your arms in.”

  I sighed and stuffed them in.

  He started buttoning from the bottom. “I like seeing you in my clothes. Knowing you wanted something of mine on your skin. Did you touch yourself while you wore it?”

  I opened my mouth to say no, but he cocked his eyebrow in one of his typical stupid smug expressions.

  “You think pretty highly of yourself.”

  “Just hoping. Especially since I took my cock in hand at least once a day while I was gone.” He did up another button. “In the shower, because I couldn’t shake off the dreams. At night for some goddamn relief so I could actually sleep.”

  I dragged in a breath. “You can’t keep saying things like that.”

  He buttoned the last one. “I tried to stay away.”

  I frowned up at him, closing my fingers over his. “Is that what you were doing?”

  “Work did blow up, but maybe I was hoping I could stop thinking about you. Maybe with some space, it would be easier.”

  I swallowed down the hurt. He was right—we weren’t supposed to be getting involved. Maybe it was smarter to just stop now before maybe we couldn’t. “Right. Sensible.”

  “I am so fucking tired of being sensible.” He gripped my fingers. “So, pack a damn bag because you’re coming home with me.”