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“Hey.” Jake snags my wrist as I turn away. “Would it be crossing the friendly line if I told you that sweater is…”—his eyes rake over the royal-blue sweater, and he lets out a low hum—“well, it’s hot as fuck.”
My cheeks heat and my heart thumps hard in my chest. But I can’t stop the smile that curves my lips. “I’ll allow it.”
He grins and then mimes wiping sweat off his brow. “Whew, that was a close one.”
“You get one freebie, Henderson.” I poke a finger into his chest. “Now, behave.”
He pouts. “What fun would that be?”
I shake my head and put on my coat. Moments later, I lock up the house and we head out.
As Jake drives us through town, I snuggle into the soft leather seat of his fancy truck. The inside is warm, and the combination of leather and his cologne weighs heavy in the air. It’s like I’m wrapped up in his arms.
I glance over at him and my stomach somersaults. Against my better judgment, I enjoy his company as much as I always did.
It’s not like I haven’t tried to stay mad at him. But with every interaction we have, it gets harder to resist the banter between us and the electric current that simmers underneath.
Then there was the morning I arrived at the shop to find my favorite muffin—cinnamon buttermilk—from the Sweet Spot waiting on the desk I use. When I thanked Amelia for it later, she told me Jake had bought it.
It made my insides melt like the butter on my warm muffin.
It’s easy with him, just like it had always been.
But I don’t need those kinds of memories or daydreams sneaking into my brain. I already want too much of something that isn’t smart for me to have.
I glance out the side window and find the Christmas lights strung around town pass by beyond the glass. “Where are we going?”
“Casteel’s doesn’t sell in the square anymore.”
I turn my head to face him. “When did that happen?”
He taps a thumb against the steering wheel as he makes a turn onto the road leading out of town. “Two years ago, I guess?”
“Why?”
He grins and glances over at me. The lights from the dashboard put his face in partial shadows and the only thing I can think of is “dangerously sexy” when I look at him.
Warmth pools low in my belly, and the cabin of the truck feels like it’s shrunk to half its size.
“Well, Sunflower, it’s a whole experience now. Casteel’s Christmas Village. There’s the tree farm and the village full of lights. They sell all the kinds of food and drinks you only get during the holidays. It’s quite the draw.”
I vaguely recall him asking Mom about it at the diner, but I was too busy trying not to listen to the deep timbre of his voice.
Now, I want nothing more than to hear him say my name. Preferably in my ear while he peels off the sweater he likes so much.
I shift in my seat and do my best not to melt into a puddle in his pretty leather seats.
Up ahead, the inky night sky is relieved by lighting. “Is that it?” I ask.
“Yep.”
We pull in and find a place to park in the roped-off open field among a surprising amount of cars.
Jake grabs a handsaw from the back of his truck and I eye him warily. “You know how to use that?”
He gives me a bland stare until I shrug. “Hey, you work on cars, not houses or timber.”
“So you think I don’t know how to use a saw because I use a wrench?”
