Page 11 of Soldier’s Christmas Crush (Trinity Falls: Home for Christmas #4)

JENSEN

J ensen turned back to his chopping, trying to hide his shock at the scene unfolding before him.

He wanted so badly to stop and watch the interaction going on over at the log, but he wanted Henry to have this moment even more. And if the little one turned to see his dad was watching, he might snap out of it and break the magic bubble he and Willow seemed to be occupying.

Henry didn’t talk much, and he didn’t warm up to people easily. He was also shy about anyone holding him but his dad and grandparents. But here he was, chuckling and smiling at Willow, and then verbalizing and even holding his hands up to be held.

When he was in her arms and looked up at Willow fearlessly, like he couldn’t wait to see what she would do next, Jensen had to turn away before either of them saw how much this moment meant to him.

He forced himself to grab another piece of wood, swallowing over the lump in his throat, as Willow kept murmuring those silly knock-knock jokes.

She had liked telling them when she was a kid too. He remembered her tugging at his sleeve to try them out on him when she was five or six. Who would have thought she would be mesmerizing his son with them one day?

She didn’t seem to take it personally at all that Henry wasn’t trying to talk to her. She just jumped in and carried the jokes on her own, like it was the most natural thing in the world that the two-and-a-half-year-old might just like to relax and listen to her.

When Jensen was pretty sure the two of them were doing just fine in their own world, he dared to start chopping wood again.

It felt good to do physical labor when his mind was churning. He lost himself in the effort of it, and chopped until his muscles burned.

Mom and Dad joked about needing the firewood, but he had the sense that it really helped out a lot.

The old house was so big and drafty, and with the price of heating oil so high, Mom usually kept the thermostat pretty low.

Jensen had offered more than once to buy them a new gas heater, but Dad insisted that the old oil burner would last forever.

Honestly, Jensen figured it was mostly just his pride.

Or maybe it was his friendship with Nate Linck, who came out to clean the burner and change the filter every year.

Jensen could remember their booming, happy voices filtering up from the basement when it came time to clean the heater, even back when he was a little boy.

At any rate, using the old wood-burning stove took the edge off throughout the house and kept the den cozy and warm. And since Dad hurt his back, it was harder for him to do this kind of work himself.

One more reason I’m glad I came home when I did, so I could notice when they needed help.

Staying longer in the service might have earned him a pension, but this time with his parents was priceless.

And if I hadn’t come home, I wouldn’t have Henry…

The jokes had slowed down and Henry’s laughter was fading. The little guy normally went to bed pretty early, and he was probably getting sleepy.

Jensen finished up the last few pieces and then turned to look.

Willow sat on the log, gazing out into the woods behind the house, a tender expression on her face. And Henry was fast asleep on her chest, limbs flung out in utter abandon, his little face tucked into the crook of her neck, just like he always did with Jensen.

A wave of emotion washed over him at the sight, and he let his eyes meet hers without meaning to.

Something passed between them, and he felt an achy tension, like a rope connected their hearts and it was pulled too tight for comfort.

He stuck the axe back into its log and then moved to sit beside her without the first idea of what he was even going to say.

What is this? What’s happening to me?

“Hey,” she whispered. “Do you want a cookie?”

The light question when he was thinking such weighty thoughts made him smile.

“Yeah,” he whispered back. “I’d love one. ”

“Okay,” she said. “But you have to get it so I don’t wake him up.”

Jensen nodded and grabbed the plate that was balanced on the log beside her. He pulled back the plastic wrap, releasing the rich chocolate fragrance. Willow always made these cookies on the larger side, and they looked soft enough to melt in his mouth.

“Wow,” he murmured. “I haven’t had these in forever.”

She had brought them out here with her so many times, the three of them heading deep into the woods, balancing on the rocks that lined the creek.

They would meet up on a Saturday afternoon, Ransom wearing his old Eagles cap and a big grin, Willow proudly clutching a paper bag of still-warm, homemade cookies and shadowing her brother step for step.

Jensen pulled one out and took a bite, closing his eyes with pleasure as the gooey chocolate burst on his tongue.

“Glad you still like them,” Willow whispered, smiling.

“They’re so good,” he told her, making a real effort not to shove the rest of the big cookie in his mouth at once, even though he was pretty sure she’d seen him do that plenty of times over the years. “My favorite.”

She looked so pleased at the compliment that he was reminded of the way she used to blush anytime he looked at her during that last summer the three of them hung out together, before the pact.

“I’m going to start a fire,” he heard himself say.

He wasn’t sure if he was doing it because he needed a little space from her before he said or did something stupid, or if he wanted to provide her with warmth so their walk down memory lane could last a little longer .

He busied himself placing the wood in the pit, then getting it started, all the while wondering why he was doing this, and why she wasn’t arguing. Surely she didn’t want to just sit out here in the cold reminiscing with him all day.

Then why is she here?

He worried that it was only because his son had fallen asleep in her arms, but she seemed happy enough.

Once he had a nice fire crackling, he lowered himself to the log beside her again.

“That takes me back,” she said, eyeing the fire. “We ate so many roasted marshmallows it’s a miracle all our teeth didn’t fall out.”

“We needed the energy for running around in the woods,” Jensen said, chuckling.

“I guess we did,” she agreed.

“Remember the Tarzan rope Ransom and I set up over the creek?” he asked.

“How could I forget?” she said. “You guys worked on that for days.”

“But you were the only one willing to be the first to actually try it out,” Jensen said.

He saw her in his mind as she was then—her long brown hair in a messy ponytail, and a smudge of dirt on her cheek. But the look in her crystal blue eyes had been like summer lightning.

“I wiped out,” she said now, with a look of chagrin. “I scraped my knees on the rocks. I still have a scar.”

“I got you Band-Aids,” he remembered.

“And you carried me back to the house,” she said, nodding .

She looked away from him and down at Henry again, and Jensen swore her cheeks were flushed.

Is she blushing?

“I never could figure out why you ran up and grabbed the rope like you did,” he said. “You were so brave, Willow.”

“I only did it to try and impress you,” she said. “I was scared to death.”

“You didn’t look scared,” he said, shaking his head. “You looked so fierce.”

She smiled and gazed into the fire as the light flickered on her face, making her cheeks glow.

“Why were you trying to impress me?” he heard himself ask.

She didn’t say anything for a long time. Just when he was about to give up and ask her something else, she turned to him, fixing him in that bright blue gaze.

“I had a crush on you,” she said simply. “I wanted you to like me.”

His heart seemed to forget how to beat.

“Not a real crush, though, right?” he managed to ask. “You were just a kid trying out feelings on someone you trusted.”

But her gaze slid back to the dancing flames.

“It was real,” she said after a moment. “But don’t worry, I won’t stalk you now or anything.”

“That doesn’t worry me,” he said automatically.

His heart had remembered how to beat again, and now it was pounding wildly in his chest, making him think all kinds of thoughts he shouldn’t be thinking .

But how was he supposed to help himself?

Here she was, with his child on her chest, telling him that she used to care about him, making him feel things he never thought he would feel again…

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, turning back to him. “I didn’t mean to make things weird. I just wanted to get it off my chest. I mean, I honestly thought you always knew.”

Her expression was stricken, and he could have punched himself for putting that look on her face.

He knew he had to do something, say something, to show her that it was all right, that it was more than all right.

“Willow,” he breathed.

He reached for her, his hand meeting hers on the rough bark of the log they were sitting on. Even through their gloves, he felt a charge of electricity sizzle through him at the innocent touch.

The sound of voices floating down the hill snapped him out of his trance.

Willow pulled her hand away just as his mom and Mrs. Lennox arrived.

“Well, would you look at that,” Mom said fondly. “I can’t believe it.”

“Didn’t you say he was shy, Judy?” Mrs. Lennox asked.

“I guess our Willow has a magic touch,” Mom declared. “How nice that you two have a fire going. Why don’t I take Henry on up to bed? He can sleep until you head home, okay, son?”

“Thanks, Ma,” he replied, moving to get up .

“No, no,” Willow said right away. “I’ll just go up with you. He might stay asleep if I carry him.”

“That’s nice, dear,” Judy said as Willow stood carefully.

“Oh, look at that,” Mrs. Lennox laughed. “You got into your brother’s cookies.”

“I didn’t tell him I was coming by today,” Willow said. “So I’ll just stop by his place with more cookies tomorrow.”

Jensen watched the three of them disappear up the hillside to the house until the sound of their voices faded away, leaving him alone.

Without thinking about it, he grabbed another cookie and turned back to the fire, eating it slowly and allowing the simple pleasure of the warmth and the chocolate consume him while he let the image of Willow Wright’s ocean-blue eyes linger in his mind for just a moment longer.

You shouldn’t be thinking about your best friend’s little sister like that, a little voice in the back of his head whispered. And you shouldn’t be eating his cookies either.

He stood and grabbed the plate, feeling frustrated with himself. Life had actually been relatively simple up until now, and he hadn’t even appreciated it.

Losing Lara and raising Henry alone was a devastating challenge, but at least it was the kind of struggle everyone on the outside could understand.

And though he was prone to getting stuck here and there along the way, the path back to normal moved in one direction, with family and friends to hold him up when he thought he couldn’t go on, and cheer him on when he found his footing.

But now that Ransom and Willow were home, he felt unmoored again, like before. And he realized how much he had isolated himself, even here at home.

For a big part of his life, the two of them had been his whole world, and now the tension of having unresolved issues with both of them was making him restless, especially knowing that he could bump into either of them at any moment.

There was no roadmap to getting back to normal when you had wrecked a friendship.

And there was no way to define the wild emotions Willow kept stirring up in him.

There’s one way, the little voice whispered.

But Jensen would never allow that to happen. He needed his best friend right now, maybe more than ever. And he was pretty sure Ransom needed him too. They were both single dads now, trying to make good lives for their children.

Telling himself that he could make things right with Ransom while he was falling for Willow was deluded at best. And if he wasn’t careful, he was going to ruin things with both of them.

It was real…

But Willow admitting that she’d had a teen crush on him wasn’t the same thing as saying she cared about him now.

These days, she was probably dreaming of falling madly in love with a doctor at the hospital where she was about to work.

They would get married, and she would live in a big house and drive a fancy car and never want for anything at all .

Willow was a good person. She deserved all that and more.

So the best thing he could do if he actually cared about her was to pull these strange feelings out by the roots, and ignore the electricity that seemed to spark through his veins every time she was close.

How hard could that be?