Page 10 of Christmas Treasures (Sugarville Grove #6)

“I’m not that drunk.” But she took his arm anyway. She fit so nicely next to him.

When they reached the front door, she used a key code to get them inside. The giant cat known as Figaro came running but abruptly stopped at the sight of a stranger. His tail went wide and he started to back away, as if that made him invisible.

“Silly, Figgy, it’s me and my friend. Nothing to be scared of.”

Fig took off running, thumping up the stairs to the second floor.

“Um, he sounds like a human,” Max said.

“Fig’s not exactly light on his feet,” Charlie said. “Abby told me he should drop a few pounds, but like I said, I’m an indulgent cat mom.”

The entry opened into a wide, open-concept living space filled with light and stillness.

The floors were pale wood, soft underfoot, and the air smelled of vanilla.

To the left, a pale stone fireplace anchored the living room.

A low, creamy couch faced it, scattered with muted pillows in dusty greens and grays.

Everything about the space was clean and quiet.

There were no knickknacks. No clutter. Just calm.

“This house is awesome,” he said as she led him into the kitchen. “Great cooking space.”

“I enjoy it a lot.” Charlie glanced over her shoulder as she pulled open the back door. “Thanks. Come on, I’ll show you my special place.”

The greenhouse glowed softly in the dark, its frame a silhouette of black metal and glass against the velvet night sky. From the outside, it looked like something out of a fairy tale—quiet, contained, a world all its own.

Charlie unlocked the door and stepped inside. Max followed, and immediately, scents of warm soil and ripening tomatoes hit him. The air was humid in the best way, soothing and healing all at once.

She flipped on the lights, and a row of hanging pendants blinked to life, allowing him to see better.

Herbs lined the wooden benches in neat clay pots, their leaves dewy and reaching.

He noted chives, oregano, multiple varieties of basil.

Lettuce greens and winter vegetables filled planter beds near the back, their tender leaves bright against the darker earth.

“It’s so organized.” Everything had a place. Tools hung precisely on the wall. A worn wooden stool sat near a tall row of trellised tomatoes, and beside it—a garden journal, thick with pages, half-covered in sketches and notes in Charlie’s neat hand.

“I’m a bit of a neat freak. And I hate clutter,” Charlie said.

When he’d first been diagnosed with ADHD in middle school, the therapist had encouraged him to keep his places tidy and organized to give him a fighting chance against the ping-pong nature of his thoughts. This space and the house were exactly that .

“Honestly, this is beyond great,” Max said. “You must spend a lot of time out here.”

“I do. Although, I have to confess—I have a helper. A retired guy just up the hill. He comes by when I’m at work to weed and make sure my sprinklers and watering systems are working.”

“You both did a great job.”

“I come out here when I can’t sleep.” She brushed her fingers over a line of basil. “Or if something’s worrying me.”

“I get it.” He turned slowly to take the place in one more time, before stopping to gaze at Charlie standing under the light.

“Do you want to take anything home?” Charlie asked. “I could cut you some herbs.”

She stepped off the path between planter beds to reach for something on a high shelf. He turned just in time to see her foot catch on the edge of a cedar planting box.

She pitched forward, and Max caught her on instinct. His arms wrapped around her before either of them could process what was happening.

For a second, she didn’t say anything. Her hands were pressed flat against his chest, her face just inches from his, wide eyes locked on his mouth.

“Sorry,” she murmured.

She did not pull away.

“You okay?” His voice was low, rougher than he meant it to be.

“I’m fine.” Still, she made no effort to move. “Too much wine. Not enough coordination.”

He chuckled softly. “Well, for what it’s worth, you fall very gracefully.”

That earned him the tiniest smile. But she was still close. So close. He could smell the faint citrus of her perfume. And something shifted in the air between them .

He didn’t plan to kiss her.

He just…did.

And she kissed him back.

It was slow at first, tentative. Then deeper. Warmer. The kind of kiss that felt like a question and an answer all at once. He wasn’t sure who leaned in first, only that once it started, neither of them seemed to want to stop.

But it did stop.

Charlie pulled away first, blinking as if she’d just remembered where they were. Her cheeks flushed a deeper pink, and she stepped back, smoothing her sweater.

“That was…” She hesitated, staring at him.

Max ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah.”

“We probably shouldn’t?—”

“Definitely shouldn’t,” he agreed.

“It’s a terrible time for you to get involved.”

He nodded. “The worst. My whole life’s in turmoil.”

“And I’m not relationship material. That’s probably obvious to you.”

“Not really.”

“I’ve not dated much. I was always busy with work, and I never dared get involved with someone from my company.”

“Would you like to date someone? Get involved? Fall in love?” Max had to ask. He was a Hayes brother, after all. As much wanderlust as he’d enjoyed in his life, deep inside him he wanted what Nolan and Luke had. But now he was about to be a single father. Complicated.

“I get lonely, yeah,” Charlie said. “But I also like my life simple. It was too messy for too long.”

“What do you mean?”

“My exit from my company was chaotic. They basically pushed me out.”

“That must have broken your heart.”

“It did, yeah.” Charlie let out a sigh. “To answer your question, if I met the right person, someone who loved me just as I am, I would like that very much. But I have to be careful. There are plenty of men who would love to get their hands on my money.”

The air went out of him. Her money. Why hadn’t he thought of that? No wonder she was so guarded. She had to consider people’s motives even more than most.

“You should be careful,” Max said. “While also trusting your instincts. You’ll know if someone’s genuine or not. But you have to let people in a little first, or you’ll never know.”

“I believe you’re right. But that doesn’t mean I can do it.”

“Understood.”

They stood in silence for a beat, the glow of the greenhouse suddenly feeling too bright.

Max cleared his throat. “I should go.”

Charlie nodded, eyes on the floor. “Yeah. Okay.”

Max walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the latch. What was he doing? He should tell her the truth. Otherwise, he would never know. “For the record, even though my life’s about to change, I’m interested in you. And not for your money.”

“Why?” Charlie asked softly. “Why me of all people?”

“Because you moved to a place simply because you remembered a cheese from a small town in Vermont. To me, that’s all I need to know about a person.

But I understand if you’d rather not get involved with a man who suddenly has a tangled-up situation.

Regardless, thank you for a great night. I enjoyed getting to know you better.”

He turned and let himself out before he said anything further. He’d said enough.