I smirked. “You’ll be fine. I think.”
Inside, the scent of pine and cinnamon wrapped around us like a weighted blanket. Her living room was a holiday fever dream—stockings on every chair, garlands strung across shelves, at least four nutcrackers that I could see, and tinsel. So much tinsel.
“Tree goes by the fireplace!” she commanded, pointing with one hand while the other reached for a candy cane.
Cavil blinked at the forest of decorations. “Do we move… the Santa orchestra first or just work around it?”
She didn’t answer, just snapped her fingers and told him to bring in the box of ornaments next.
I jumped in to help, trying not to laugh at the way she ordered him around like he was one of her plastic reindeer. Surprisingly, he didn’t complain. He just… did it. Calm, quiet, and entirely out of place in a house that screamed Christmas exploded here.
Watching him string lights under her direction—stoic and unbothered while she made him re-do a loop that wasn’t “twinkly enough”—made something warm settle in my chest. A contrast so sharp it softened everything else around it.
And for the first time that morning, I wasn’t thinking about Leo or stress or the hundred things still left to do.
I was just… here.
With him.
The tree wasmassive. I hadn’t realized quite how big it was until we were standing in front of it; the thing bundled in mesh like a green beast ready to strike. It towered over us, blocking half the entryway like it had every intention of living on the front porch.
Cavil eyed it the way someone might look at a wild animal they didn’t trust not to bite.
“Think you can handle that?” I asked, tilting my head, barely hiding the grin tugging at my mouth.
He didn’t dignify me with a full answer—just grunted, squared his shoulders, and grabbed the trunk like he was going to wrestle it into submission. “Just stand back.”
I obeyed, not out of fear for my safety but because I didn’t want to get in the way of whatever war he was about to wage against an innocent pine.
He started to maneuver the thing toward the door, all steady muscle and determination—and then a rogue snow-dusted branch snapped back andsmacked him square in the face.
Ilost it.
Laughter bubbled up before I could even try to hold it in. I doubled over, hands on my knees, gasping between fits of giggles. “Oh, my gosh—yourface?—”
Cavil didn’t say a word at first. Just wiped the snow off his cheek with a dramatic swipe and glared at the tree like it had personally insulted him.
The glare he shot me next could’ve melted the icicles off the porch railing.
“I thought military guys were good with logistics,” I teased through my laughter, wiping a tear from the corner of my eye.
He growled low under his breath, though his mouth twitched just enough to betray him. “Didn’t specialize in pine warfare.”
“Well, clearly not. It's obvious you're British military, not US."
For a second, everything else fell away. My heart felt lighter than it had in weeks. No donors to impress, no Leo looming over me, no weight of trying to prove I was enough. Just this ridiculous moment with a tree that was too big and a man who didn’t smile but somehow made me feel safer than I’d felt in a long time.
He straightened again with a sigh, brushing past me like he had something to prove now. “All right. Round two.”
I stood aside as he adjusted his grip, his brow furrowed with renewed focus. Slowly, carefully, he twisted the tree toward the door again. The base scraped against the entryway like itknewit didn’t belong there.
“Careful! You’re about to take out that lamp!” I called, half-warning, half-laughing.
“Then maybe don’t stand so close,” he muttered without looking back.
But he pushed too hard this time. The welcome mat folded underfoot like a traitor, and the tree surged forward, barreling into the living room like a battering ram. The lamp teetered once… twice…
Crash.
