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“Hey, you’re pretty good at that, Mr. Author Guy,” she told him. “You’re welcome to come back and volunteer anytime.”
Alex laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
The Christmas lights strung along Main Street flickered on, a reminder that the day was quickly fading. Mia gave her sister a hug, Chase a wave good-bye, and climbed into the car with Alex and Brooklyn. Darn, she’d really hoped to be done with the tree by now. Instead, they still had to get this thing home, inside, and standing straight before they could even get started.
Why hadn’t anyone invented a weekend pause button yet?
“Everything okay?” Alex asked, brows tugged together.
Mia glanced at Brooklyn in the rearview mirror, a broad smile on her daughter’s face as she texted on her phone. Today hadn’t gone at all as planned. But then, she hadn’t expected it to be this full of excitement, either. Maybe going off-script once in a while wasn’t so bad after all.
She returned her gaze to Alex. “It will be if you promise not to break this tree, too.”
He winced.
Brooklyn laughed.
And despite the hot mess today had been, Mia found herself smiling the whole way home. Maybe letting her guard down a bit wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
*
Alex followed Miaout into the starless night to help “dispose” of her mangled artificial tree—in other words, cramming it into her garbage can before trash pickup the next morning. They’d waited until after dark, Mia hoping to attract less attention from the neighbors. Apparently, Bourbon Falls had a strict policy against putting trees out with the trash. While Alex suspected the rule was intended to prevent residents from placing spent,realtrees on the curb after Christmas, he refrained from saying as much. If she was insistent that he help her after an evening of laughter and tree trimming, then that’s what he would do.
Heck, after the amazing evening he’d had here, he’d do nearly anything for her in this moment.
“This way,” she whispered. Mia grabbed the smallest section of tree and ducked a little as she walked. “And not too loud. Privacy fence or not, if Margaret hears us, she’ll get her floodlight out. Then the whole neighborhood will know something’s up.”
Grinning, Alex scooped up the section of tree that had been his downfall earlier and followed her in a half crouch from the back porch to the town-issued waste bin beside her detached garage. And yes, he was totally looking at her cute little ass as they went. Truth be told, he’d been sneaking looks at it all night. Easy to do when she kept bending to pick ornaments from their storage boxes and then stretching on tiptoe to hang them in just the right places.
But it wasn’t just the view he’d enjoyed these past few hours—it was the entire tree-trimming extravaganza. There’d been homemade cocoa, so much better than those silly store-bought pouches he used to buy. Then there had been branch trimming and stand fitting, strands of lights testing and stringing. Ornaments and garland, music and laughter. Brooklyn had even handed him the angel to put on top of the tree. At first he’d felt a bit awkward, the intruder in their holiday routine who knew nothing about which ornaments worked best where. But the women had been patient teachers and their yuletide joy contagious. By the time they’d finished, his holiday spirits were filled to overflowing.
Mia was right—there was no better time of the year than Christmas.
After the tree had been trimmed, they’d ordered a pizza from Bourbon Barrel Pizza, shared favorite stories of Christmases past, and now everyone was getting ready to call it a day. Which, as Mia insisted, was the best time for them to come out here and “do their deed.”
The backyard was dark, their path dimly lit by what little light stretched from a single bulb hanging over the home’s side entrance. The longer they were outside, though, the more his eyes adjusted to the dark. They paused at the trash bin, then Mia carefully lifted its lid and eased her portion of the tree inside. Plastic, artificial needles screeched down the insides of the bin until they reached the bottom. She looked around, then motioned him forward to do the same with his section of tree. Thankfully, the container was mostly empty, and Alex was able to squeeze his into the remaining space.
“What a perfect night,” Mia whispered, her gaze scanning the quiet neighborhood. “Good food, old friends, and my favorite holiday traditions. The only thing that would have made it better is a little snow.”
“And maybe me not breaking your tree.”
She grinned. “Nah, like I said before, you actually did us a favor.”
Alex grinned back. So long as she was happy, he was happy.
“I’m not sure that last piece will fit,” he whispered, casting a glace back at the remaining pile.
“No worries.” Mia silently closed the bin. “I can sneak it into the bin tomorrow night, after it’s been emptied.”
Tomorrow night, when it was back to real life. No more playing house with Mia and Brooklyn, just him back at his villa in Indy,alone. That was a word that’d never really bothered him before. Tonight, it sounded far less appealing than usual.
He felt his smile slipping and turned toward the house, not wanting Mia to see.
“Alex, wait.”
Mia caught his arm. Still crouching, he turned back to ask if she’d changed her mind about the last section of tree—and found his face inches from her. Her cinnamon and vanilla scent washed over him, and suddenly the restraint he’d maintained around her all weekend vanished.
She started to speak.
