He leaned against the bar, close enough that I could see the tiny flecks of gold in his green eyes. “You always were a terrible liar.”
I swallowed. “And you always were full of yourself.”
“Occupational hazard.”
“I thought bartenders were supposed to be humble.”
He chuckled. “You’ve clearly never worked behind a bar in this town.”
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the crackle of the fire and the faint whisper of wind outside. The moment stretched, too long, too charged, and I suddenly needed to move.
“Guess the tree is the only thing that’s going to be naked tonight, huh?”
I grabbed a handful of ornaments. “Fine. I’ll help after that comment. But only because it’s sad how bad you are at this.”
He smirked. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
We worked in silence for a while, though silence might’ve been a generous word for the way the air practically buzzed between us.
Every time he brushed past me to grab another ornament, I felt the warmth of him climb through me.
“Hand me that one,” he said, pointing to a glass ornament shaped like a stag.
“This one?” I asked, holding it up.
“Yeah.” His fingers brushed mine as he took it. The contact was brief but enough to make my breath hitch.
He noticed. Of course he did. Drew noticed everything.
“Careful,” I said quickly, stepping back. “You break that, Callum’s going to cry.”
He hung it on a branch, then looked over his shoulder. “Guess I’ll just have to keep it safe then.”
I crossed my arms. “You really can’t turn it off, can you?”
“The charm?” He flashed a grin. “Nope.”
“The ego.”
“That either.”
Snow thickened outside, the street beyond the window fading to a blur of white and gold. Inside, the lights glowed warmer, wrapping the space in that impossible coziness that Reckless River seemed to have bottled up for the holidays.
“You miss this,” he said suddenly, quiet but certain.
“What?”
“The peace. The quiet.”
I hesitated. “It’s not peace. It’s… stillness. And I’m not sure I’m built for still. I choose to teach children under ten for a living. I like busy. I don’t do peaceful.”
He nodded slowly. “Maybe not. But you’re here anyway.”
“Don’t read into it.”
“Too late.”
I sighed, stepping back to admire our handiwork.
