Page 6

Chapter 6

Trevor

L ana is surprisingly gifted at wielding an axe. A detail I don't plan on forgetting anytime soon considering how much she doesn't like me.

Though I'm pretty sure she didn't miss the fact that I am very attracted to her—the raging bulge in my pants earlier was proof of that. I was hoping she wouldn't notice, but come on—her ass was literally rubbing against me. What am I supposed to do… not get turned on?

She stabilizes a piece of wood against the trunk and positions the axe just above her head. In one swift movement, she's able to split the wood in two.

I shudder at the thought of what she could do with that axe if she knew I was thinking about her pressed up against me.

"Alright, Woody Woodpecker. Let me have a go, would you? Show you how a real man chops wood."

She gives me a look that says, I'd like to see you try, but reluctantly hands me the axe.

"Don't hurt yourself," she says coldly.

"Aww, you do care."

"No, it would just be a real inconvenience to have to bury you up here in this frozen tundra. Although, I’m sure the wolves wouldn’t mind having a Christmas feast."

"You're a real charmer, you know that, Lana MacDonald." I line up a piece of wood and pull the axe over my head.

"Too high," she observes. I'm about to slam it down, but her remark makes me pause.

"What?"

"Your grip. It need to be a little lower," she says, watching me.

I move my hand on the grip and look at her for approval.

"Perfect. Now, instead of aiming for the wood on the trunk, aim for the one in your pants, and don't ever let me see that again."

It takes me a second to register what she's saying but when I do I turn to look at her. "Wait… is my biggest anti-fan standing in sub-zero weather and thinking about my wood?" I can't even try to hide the smile.

Lana noticed. And not only did she notice. She's still thinking about it. Which makes me… an idiot. Have I learned nothing? Just because a woman says something doesn't mean it has the same meaning to me as it does to her.

"Do you always get hard during tickle fights?" she cocks her head at me.

"Do you want to test your theory?"

I slam the axe down onto the wood. It doesn't quite snap in two. I try again. Still no luck.

Okay, clearly I'm not a lumberjack. Third times a charm and when it finally cracks open for me, I turn to look at Lana who's laughing to herself and shaking her head.

"That the best you can do, stud?"

I shoot her a glare. "You haven't seen nothing yet."

I toss the wood into the small pile we're accumulating and grab another piece to chop.

This time, instead of coaching me from afar, Lana closes the distance between us and puts her hands over mine on the axe, helping me to adjust my hold.

"Like that," she instructs into my ear. Her voice is low and raspy, and it does something to me, despite the ridiculously cold weather.

She takes a step back, and this time, in one fell swoop, I'm able to split the wood in two.

I huff out a laugh. "You're a good coach."

"It's kind of what I do, Sincaid."

She adds the wood to the growing pile, lines up another and takes the axe back. Destroying two more pieces of wood.

"Where'd you learn to be a lumberjack?" I ask, grabbing some of the wood into my arms.

"My dad," she says, slamming the axe onto the trunk and joining me in picking up the pieces.

I watch her as she moves. Strong, solid movements. She's the kind of woman that seems to be confident in anything that she does.

And I find that to be really fucking hot.

"Didn't realize professional lumberjacks still existed."

"They mostly use equipment and chainsaws now, but growing up our dad ran a Christmas tree farm out near Ottawa."

I pause what I'm doing.

"A Christmas tree farm?" I ask, probably a little too incredulously.

"Yes," she says eyeing me. "Why?"

"It's just interesting… I'm picturing grouchy little Lana. The grinch of the MacDonald family learning to chop down trees to bring Christmas joy to all the little girls and boys just sounds… I don't know, funny."

"I am not the family grinch."

"It's okay, Lana. Every family has one. For mine, it's my oldest brother Harlan. I think he'd rather skip the whole Thanksgiving to Christmas season altogether if he could."

"I love Christmas, Sincaid."

I blow air through my lips, "Sure, why don't you prove it then?"

"I don't need to prove anything to you." She puts a hand up to her hip.

"Because you're a little Christmas grinch?"

She scoffs. I gotta admit, I like ruffling her feathers. It's fun.

I turn, about to pick up another piece of wood to chop when something whizzes past my face. At first, I think it's a bird. But as I turn to see the direction it came from a burst of ice cold snow hits me square in the face.

As it drips off, I see Lana, keeled over and laughing in such a way that I almost can't be mad that she just hit me in the face.

"Oh, you think that's funny? " I say, wiping the slush off my face.

She giggles and it's the cutest fucking thing I've ever heard. Of course, it is. Of course I find the giggle of the most menacing human on earth to be the one thing that does me out.

I reach down to roll up a snowball and I as I do she hits me with three more.

"Jesus, woman. How many arms do you have?" I launch my flimsy excuse for a snowball at her but she's already running away.

"La-na," I call out behind her. "You want to start a war? Then stay and fight."

She doesn't stop, instead she jumps up pulling an icicle from a branch as she runs under it and launches it at me. I'm now full-on chasing her into the woods as the icicle zings past me.

"I almost lost an eye!" I yell up to her.

"An eye patch might actually fix your face," she calls back, huffing to catch air in her lungs.

"I hope you run better than you can throw an icicle because when I catch you," I threaten. "It's over."

Another snowball gets tossed in my direction. It's like she's making them as she's running which is just insane. Maybe she has the forest animals helping her out. I'm right on her tail as we break past the tree line and into a clearing, where she jumps over a fallen log but trips up and lands right in the snow with a yelp.

I got her now.

I jump the log and land right over her as she's kicking up snow and trying to get away.

I pull her legs and slide her to me, using my hips to pin her down as I lean forward and take both her wrists into one hand, pinning her arms above her head.

She writhes under me. And the motion mixed with the adrenaline has me getting excited in a way neither one of us can deny.

Lana breathes heavily, trying to escape from my grip.

"Uh-uh," I say. "An eye for an eye." I dig my free hand into the snow next to her hip and grab a handful.

"Let. Me. Go!" She fights with each word.

"Not until I get my payback," I say, squeezing the snow into a tight fist and letting it slightly melt into a piece of ice in my grip.

Lana looks at my hand, confusion written all over her face.

I take the ice and run it down the side of her face. She gasps and keeps trying to buck me off of her, but I keep trailing it down the side of her neck.

She stops moving and instead just swallows, waiting to see what I'll do next.

"You want to play, little grinch?" I whisper to her. "I'll play."

I dip the piece of ice into her jacket, and she squeals as it gets lost in her shirt.

This time I let her buck me off her, and I land on my back in the snow next to her, laughing as she jumps to her feet and bounces up and down to get the piece of ice out of her shirt.

"You son of a—"

"Hey!" The back door to the cabin swings open. I can see Mick appear in the distance. "Did you losers leave me to fend for myself?"

I push myself up just as Lana finishes twisting every which way to get the ice out of her shirt. It's a much smaller piece when it falls to the snow beneath her which tells me it mostly melted against her skin.

"Come on, little grinch," I brush past her and start making my way back toward the cabin.

"Oh, you're not getting off that easy," Lana says, walking faster and leaving me behind.

I pick up my pace so that I'm right next to her. But she moves even faster, now in a jog.

I'm not used to the elevation out here, so it doesn't take much for me to start huffing and puffing. And she notices it right away.

"What's the matter, stud? Can't keep up?" The teasing in her eyes only works to fuel my fire. I take a deep breath and try to keep my call.

"Guys?!" Mick calls again.

We're running next to each other now, and just as we make it past the trees and tumble into the chopping area, Mick finally sees us.

"What the hell were you two doing? Hunting for dinner?" He wraps a scarf closer to his face.

"Just a little friendly competition," I huff out.

"What's wrong with him?" He asks his sister, who just looks at me and shrugs.

"Weak lungs?"

I shoot her a glare.

"Well, I got some news. Want the good or the bad first?"

"Whichever it is, can we hear it inside?" I say, now shivering from the sweat Lana has induced.

Mick holds the back door open for us to walk through and Lana and I both take a step in simultaneously, bumping our shoulders together as we both try to squeeze through.

Mick gives us both a shove, and we nearly fall all over each other.

"Just lay it on us," Lana tells her brother, that coldness back in her voice.

"Bad news is, the storm’s not expected to let up until Christmas night," Mick announces as he shuts the door to keep the wind from blowing in snow.

"What? H-how do you know that?" Lana says in a panic.

"I found a crank radio in the attic, and yeah… it's a big one."

Shit. That means we're stuck here. I look at Lana, who looks like someone just told her Santa isn't real.

"But the good news is… they have Christmas decorations up there!" Mick offers.

"Are you serious right now? We're stuck here for Christmas?" Lana crosses her arms over her chest. "You're sure?"

"Pretty damn sure," Mick says, grabbing some gloves off the kitchen counter. "Which means we're going to need more than just canned goods to get us through the next two days."

"We don't have the car," Lana says, turning to him.

"No, but we have the snowmobile. I can ride down, get some more supplies, and see if the owner will let us stay an extra night. Plus, there's no cell service up here. I need to see if maybe by getting closer to some wifi, I'll be able to reach mom and dad and let them know where we are."

"No cell service?" Lana falls onto the couch, looking defeated. "Awesome. There goes our Christmas."

"We'll make the most of it. I promise," Mick says. He grabs the goggles he used to ride on the snowmobile.

"You can't go out there alone," Lana says.

"Well, I'm not letting you go out there, and I'm not letting you stay here alone, so…"

"I'll go get the supplies," I offer.

Mick looks at me. "Do you even know what kind of supplies to get, Cali boy?"

"Really, Mick? We're not camping out in the woods. What kind of stuff would we need to wait out a snowstorm?"

"Yeah… I'm not leaving our survival up to you," Mick says.

"Thank God," Lana adds under her breath.

"You two get the fire going. If I'm not back in a few hours, just assume wolves ate me and move on with your lives."

"He's so dramatic," Lana says.

"Fuck dude," I say.

He laughs. "I'm kidding. I'll be back. Oh, and maybe throw up some of those decorations from the attic. Just because we're stuck here doesn't mean we have to give up on the holidays entirely."

Mick waves and disappears into the dark forest on the snowmobile. When the tail lights are at a far enough distance, I turn to Lana, who is stacking the firewood in the fireplace.

"Looks like it's just you and me, little grinch."

"Great, just so we get this out in the open… I'm not sleeping with you." She doesn't even bother looking my way.

"Great, just so we get it out in the open… I wasn't planning on sleeping with you."

"Good," she says. "Because neither was I."

"Even though you thought about it," I point out.

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you had to think about it in order to tell me that. So you did at least consider it."

"And I concluded that I won't."

"Right, but you admit you thought about it. Even though nobody asked."

"Why are you this insufferable?"

"Because Lana, like a rock trapped inside your shoe, I am impossible to ignore. Which is why the second your brother walked out the door, you thought about sleeping with me." I give her a smirk.

" Not sleeping with you," she corrects me.

"Case in point."

"You're not going to win this," she states.

"Oh, I'm going to win this. Because of the two of us here, who's the professional Lana, and who's the one who has to resort to coaching?"

She gets up from the couch and stalks over to the back door.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't just hear you say that."

Jackpot. I got her.

"Those who can't do… teach," I say with a shrug.

She opened the door, but the moment the words leave my lips she slams it shut and walks over to me. With a shove at the corner of my shoulder she says, "I'm not resorting to coaching. I chose coaching, you dick. Because guys like you only know how to help yourselves and would never reach a hand back to guide a young girl who wants a seat at your table. So I'm coaching to do that and to make sure they know exactly how to put up with assholes in their field."

"So I'm an asshole. I'm a dick. All because I'm a professional in sports."

"Professional is a stretch," she scoffs.

I stand there staring at her.

"I wonder what would happen if you'd stop considering me the enemy just because I'm a man… and would treat me like an equal."

"Are you kidding me right now? An equal? Am I an equal to you?"

"No," I say sternly.

"Wooow. See? And you wonder why I hate you."

"No," I say stepping closer to her, closing the distance between us. "I'm not your equal. You are by far more intelligent. More skilled. And most definitely way more sexy," I say, lowering my voice as I stand face-to-face with her.

"Don't do that," she says in a near whisper.

"Do what?" I cock my head at her.

"Don't try to win me over."

I take a step closer to her and notice how her chest rapidly rises and falls.

"I'm not trying anything," I say. "I'm just telling you the truth. I think you got me all wrong, little grinch. I'm not who you think I am."

"And who's that?" she asks, eyeing me suspiciously.

"I'm not whoever hurt you. I'm not the one who left you. I'm just Trevor. And I know we just met, but I already know—I'm your biggest fan."

"You just insulted me, and now you're saying this. I don't need you to be my biggest fan; I need you to just stay away," she nearly barks at me.

Then she sidesteps me and leaves out the back door, shutting it abruptly behind her and making the pictures on the walls shake.

Well, that went very well.

Normally I'd cut my loses and take a hint… but there's something about my teammate's sister that makes me want to try harder.

I'm going to break her. I'm going to have her begging for me.

And I'll be a happy man if it's the only thing I get for Christmas.

The game is on.