Page 8

Holly

T he industrial-sized tree baler whirs to life under my hands, and I silently thank whoever designed this costume's stretchy velvet as I bend to guide the Fraser Fir into position. The secret red lingerie underneath gives me an extra boost of confidence, even if no one can see it.

Well, almost no one.

Nico's heated gaze follows my every move from across the yard, his jaw clenching each time my skirt rides up. After our encounter in his office last week, that look promises all kinds of delicious trouble.

"Need help with that, Holly?" Tommy calls out, starting toward me.

A low growl cuts through the winter air. "I've got it."

Nico materializes beside me, his broad chest pressing against my back as he reaches for the controls. His touch is professional, but his voice drops to a whisper only I can hear. "Trying to torture me in that outfit, sunshine?"

I bite my lip, fighting a smile. "Is it working?"

His fingers tighten on the controls. "You have no idea."

The tree slides smoothly through the netting, wrapped tight and ready for transport. I turn to grab another, deliberately brushing against him. The bell on my hat jingles with the movement.

"That's not safe." His hand catches my waist, steadying me. "You shouldn't be operating machinery in that... costume."

"But the kids love it." I gesture to where a small crowd has gathered by the hot chocolate stand, all eyes on the Christmas elf wrapping their trees. "And sales are up thirty percent since last week."

His thumb traces small circles on my hip, hidden from view by the baler. "The costume isn't what's bringing in customers. Your ideas, the social media campaign, the pre-orders—that's all you."

Heat blooms in my chest at his praise. "Does this mean you'll let me film you for the ax-throwing demonstration?"

"Don't push it." But there's a smile in his voice, and his hand stays on my waist.

"Mr. Bennett!" Pete's voice carries across the yard. "Got a call about that equipment order!"

Nico tenses, his fingers flexing against my side before he steps back. "Stay here. I'll handle the next batch myself."

"I'm perfectly capable?—"

"Holly." The way he says my name, rough and wanting, makes my knees weak. "That skirt is dangerous enough without you bending over machinery."

I watch him stride away, enjoying the view. His shoulders bunch beneath his flannel shirt as he disappears into the office, and I allow myself a small victory grin. Phase one of Operation Seduce the Mountain Man is definitely working.

The shop bell chimes as I duck inside, grateful for the warmth. My fingers are nearly numb from the cold, but it's worth it to see Nico's reaction to the costume. I find him in the storage room, inventory sheets spread across a stack of boxes.

"You're supposed to be outside," he says without looking up, but his shoulders tense at my approach.

"Too cold." I perch on the edge of his makeshift desk, letting my legs dangle. "Besides..." I take a deep breath, suddenly nervous. This isn't just about the van—it's about my future. About showing Nico I'm not going anywhere. "I wanted to talk to you about something important."

His pen stills, that intense gaze focusing fully on me. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. Actually..." I pull the van listing from my pocket, smoothing the creased paper with trembling fingers. "I've been thinking about my future. Here, in Riley's Ridge."

Something flashes in his eyes—hope, maybe, but he guards it quickly. "Thought you'd be heading back to the city once you found a better job."

"That's just it." I slide off the desk to face him properly. "I don't want a better job. I mean, I do, but not in the city. I want to build something here." My voice softens. "This is home."

He stands slowly, like any sudden movement might shatter the moment. "Holly..."

"I want to start a mobile florist business." The words tumble out in a rush. "Not competing with the shop in town—something different. Weddings, events, custom installations. I could work with local growers, maybe even source some flowers from that greenhouse you mentioned expanding..."

I hold out the van listing with shaking hands. "This van... it's not just transportation. It's the start of everything I want to build here. In Riley's Ridge."

Where you are, I don't say, but from the way his breath catches, I think he hears it anyway.

His fingers trace the edge of the van listing, but his eyes stay locked on mine. "You're serious about this? About staying?"

"I know what everyone expects," I say, thinking of Sarah, of my parents' subtle disappointment. "Get a corporate job in the city. Climb the ladder. But that's not me. I spent three years trying to be that person, and it felt like drowning."

Understanding floods his expression. He knows something about expectations, about the weight of other people's dreams.

"Here..." I gesture to encompass the shop, the trees beyond the window, the whole of Riley's Ridge. "Everything feels possible. Even turning a beat-up delivery van into a flower shop on wheels."

"It's not beat-up," he says gruffly, studying the listing more intently. "It's vintage. Good solid construction in these older models, if they're maintained right."

A laugh bubbles up, warm and real. Trust Nico to focus on the mechanical details when I'm basically telling him I want to build a life in his town. But there's something tender in the way he's examining the listing, like he's already planning improvements.

"The refrigeration unit will need updating," he continues, rubbing his jaw. "And the suspension—mountain roads are hell on—" He breaks off, catching my amused expression. "What?"

"Nothing." I step closer, drawn into his orbit like always. "You're cute when you're being all knowledgeable and protective."

His eyes darken. "Protective?"

"Mm-hmm." I straighten his collar, letting my fingers linger. "The way you immediately start planning how to make my dream safer and better. It's sexy."

He catches my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "You really want this? To put down roots here?"

The vulnerability in his voice makes my heart ache. I think of what Sarah told me once, about Nico always expecting people to leave. About him keeping everyone at arm's length since his parents died, protecting himself by staying alone.

"My roots are already here," I say softly. "They always have been. The city, that corporate life—it was like trying to grow in the wrong soil. But here..."

I take a shaky breath. "Remember last week, when you showed me how to test if a tree was healthy? You said to check the roots, because that's where the strength comes from. That's what Riley's Ridge is for me. What you?—"

His kiss is hungry, possessive, stealing my breath. My hat falls off as his hands tangle in my hair, but I don't care. All that matters is the heat of his mouth, the solid warmth of his body against mine.

The storage room door creaks.

Nico moves faster than I thought possible, putting three feet of space between us just as Tommy pokes his head in. "Boss? We've got a situation with the—oh!" His eyes widen at my disheveled state. "Sorry, I didn't?—"

"What's the situation?" Nico's voice is remarkably steady for someone who was just kissing me senseless.

"The um, the Hendersons' tree. The one they pre-ordered? It won't fit in their car."

"I'll handle it." Nico straightens his shirt, not meeting Tommy's eyes. "Go help Pete with the morning deliveries."

Tommy practically runs from the storage room. As soon as his footsteps fade, I burst into giggles.

"This isn't funny." But Nico's lips twitch. "You're a menace in that costume."

"You love it." I retrieve my hat from where it fell, settling it at a jaunty angle. "So, about the van..."

He runs a hand through his hair, looking torn between kissing me again and lecturing me about vehicle safety. "Let me help. With the van, the business, all of it."

"Really?" I bounce on my toes, making the bell jingle.

"On two conditions." He holds up one finger. "First, you let me check the van thoroughly before you make any decisions."

I nod eagerly. "And second?"

His eyes darken as they sweep over my costume. "You change into something less..."

"Less what?" I step closer, enjoying the way his breath catches.

"Less distracting." He catches my wrist before I can touch him. "I mean it, Holly. That mountain road is dangerous enough without you sitting next to me in this outfit."

"Fine." I press a quick kiss to his jaw, darting away before he can grab me. "I'll change. But only because you're helping with the van."

"And Holly?" His voice stops me at the door. "If this van checks out... I know a guy who specializes in custom vehicle modifications. Could help with the refrigeration unit setup."

Warmth blooms in my chest. He's not just supporting my dream—he's investing in it. Planning for it. For me.

"Thank you." I mean for more than just the van help, and from his soft smile, he knows it.

"Go change," he growls, but there's tenderness beneath the gruff tone. "Before I forget why we shouldn't finish what we started in here."

I practically skip to the break room, holiday bells jingling with each step. Phase two of Operation Seduce the Mountain Man is officially in progress.

Behind me, I hear him mutter something that sounds suspiciously like "that damn costume will be the death of me."

I grin, already planning our mountain drive.

Nico’s words feel like a promise. Like a future opening up before us, bright as Christmas morning.

Outside, storm clouds gather over the mountain, dark and heavy with snow. But I'm not worried. I practically skip to the break room, holiday bells jingling with each step.

“Ready to go?” Nico's voice startles me out of my thoughts. He's changed into a clean flannel shirt, dark blue bringing out his eyes. Not that I'm noticing. Much.

“I'll grab my coat!” I race toward the office, nearly colliding with a stack of wreaths. Behind me, one of the workers is asking Nico about delivery schedules.

I'm a walking disaster with anything mechanical, but I know how to work what God gave me. Using my assets to make a grumpy man lose his carefully maintained control? My superpower.

I smooth down my costume, tweaking the neckline until it's just this side of “Oops, did I do that?”

“Carter.” Nico's at the door, filling the frame with those ridiculous shoulders. “Van's not getting any newer.”

“Coming!” I grab my coat, fumbling with the buttons in my haste.

He holds the door, and I slip past him. His truck gleams in the weak winter sunlight, a beast of a machine that matches its owner. As I climb in, the scent of pine and leather surrounds me, all masculine and overwhelming. Just like him.

Nico slides behind the wheel, his thick thigh brushing mine. The truck roars to life, the vibrations thrumming through me like his growled commands from this morning. My body remembers every single one.

I glance at his hands on the steering wheel, remembering how easily they spanned my waist. The memory sends heat curling low in my belly. I want to feel his hands on me again.

Twenty-four years of complete inexperience with men means I've been saving all my natural talent for the right lumberjack. And judging by how his jaw clenches every time I “accidentally” brush against him—like right now, as I “adjust” my seatbelt—I'd say Nico Bennett is the one.