“Just checking. You two have been at each other's throats. The poor thing. I’m going to put on some hot water and check my recipes for a tea that will help ease her pain. Oh!” She snapped her fingers and asked, “Did you find a tree?”
“Oddly enough, we did. I don’t know if it will fix anything, but it’s a good tree, grandma. I didn’t think there were any left out there.”
Grandma Jean squeezed my shoulder. “Must be magic, dear. Now go help our guest. I’ll keep an eye out for any customers, but I doubt there will be any. The snow is really coming down out there. I hope we don't get snowed in.”
Snowed in? Why did I suddenly wish it would snow harder? Impassable roads meant I wouldn't have to deal with any tree seekers, and Delia couldn't leave, and—wait.I shook my head to clear the dangerous thought. I might not be deliberately trying to relocate her anymore, but that didn’t mean I wanted to shack up in ugly sweaters and drink eggnog. Did it?
I hated Christmas. Carolers actively avoided spreading holiday cheer within a hundred-foot radius around my inn. Santa probably has a no-fly zone over my farm. There was no way Delia, a woman with holiday spirit coming out of her ears was going to end up with someone like me.
So let it snow until the white stuff reached the roof. She’d probably just strap her pesky poinsettia to her back and snowshoe out of here.
I ground my molars and grabbed the first aid kit, then went to find Delia. While I was gone, she’d taken off her boots and had propped her injured ankle up on a sofa pillow. Somehow, she’d also managed to light the fire in the hearth, and the room was bathed in a cozy orange glow. I looked around for matches but didn’t find any. This woman was suspiciously resourceful.
Digging through the first aid kit, I found an elastic bandage and removed it from the pack.
“You've been awfully quiet since we left,” I said, crouching in front of her to gently place the bag of peas over her ankle.
Delia grimaced in pain and fiddled with the mittens in her lap. “I just can't believe what a disaster today has been. It was a total failure.”
“A failure? That's not how I see it. Thanks to you, Bradley Farms is donating an incredible tree to the town. If it had been left to Becky and I, we would have settled for that first one with the awful lean.”
Delia let out a delicate snort and covered her nose with her fingers. “The two of you are a pair. I thought for sure we were going to throw darts and cut the first tree they hit.”
I grinned and adjusted the makeshift ice pack. “I'm terrible at darts. We'd still be out there.”
“And I probably wouldn't have sprained my ankle.”
“After today, we’re retiring those boots. I’ll find you a pair of Grandma Jean’s. You’re the same size.” I reached for the elastic bandage, and then carefully removed her sock. With painstaking hands, I wrapped the bandage around her ankle. She watched my every movement, barely making a sound until I was finished.
“You’re good at that.”
“My dad taught me. You’re not the first person to fall on the farm. Grandma Jean might be the medicinal guru with her many potions, but I’m the one to come to for cuts and scrapes. You’ll have to take it easy for a couple of days, but it’s only a light sprain so you should be up and moving by the festival. The Spells and Brews Ladies’ Club always set up a booth. You won’t want to miss it.”
Delia blinked in confusion, then nodded. “That’s right, my article. I’m on a deadline.” She paused, then gave me a sheepish look. “Thank you for carrying me back. You were surprisingly helpful for a villain.”
“Or maybe I'm just misunderstood.”
“Maybe.”
Her gaze met mine, and I held it, unable to look away. There was a softness in her expression that I’d never seen from her before. My hand still rested lightly on her ankle, and she shifted to the edge of the sofa, the mittens falling from her lap to the floor. The heat from the fire, and the crackle in the air wrapped around us, drawing us even closer together.
Without thinking, I lifted my hand to brush the side of her cheek, letting my fingers linger at the back of her neck. The softness of her skin and her sharp inhale made my heart thud loudly in my ears. Awareness thrummed through my veins as her lips parted and tension thickened the air.
Inches apart, I could feel her breath, warm and mingling with my own. The scent of vanilla and sugar infused my senses, and I knew I’d taste them on her lips. Hoped to. Her eyes softly closed, and the whisper of my name on her next breath was all I needed to hear.
A loud thud broke the silence, and Delia jerked back before our lips met. Her eyes opened wide. A curse caught in the back of my throat as the door opened, and the overhead lights flicked on. Grandma Jean stood in the doorway, ushering a man rolling a wheeled suitcase into the room.
“It’s right this way. Your room is on the second floor. Take a right at the top of the stairs.”
Another guest? In this weather? I groaned inwardly, wishing I’d had the forethought to take down the vacancy sign. So much for the impassable roads. Was a snowslide too much to ask for?
Delia turned to face the newcomer and nearly forgot she had a sprained ankle. Her features twisted in shock, jaw opening as she stuttered a few incomprehensible syllables.
“S-Simon? What are you doing here?”
Simon?The name was like a lead pipe to the back of the head. This couldn’t be the Simon whose name graced her infernal poinsettia? Also known as, Delia’s Greatest Gift Ever! My luck was bad, but not that bad.
“Do you two know each other?” Grandma Jean asked, confusion knitting her brow.
