Page 41 of Stuck with my Mountain Daddies (Men of Medford #4)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

Garrett

“What is that ?” I demanded the moment Lucy pulled out a bag labeled Definitely Not Fashionable.

“Something for tonight,” she said with a smirk. One I didn’t like the look of at all. “For Christmas Day evening drinks at Lucky’s.”

“Apparently, it’s tradition,” Riley added as she joined in, her eyes sparkling as if she was about to commit a felony with a glitter gun. “Ugly sweater time.”

Beckett groaned, personally offended. I wasn’t far behind.

Asher, on the other hand, lit up like one of those damn inflatable lawn Santas. “Oh hell yes.”

“This one’s perfect for you, Garrett.” Riley giggled, pulling out something red and fuzzy. “It has a moose. In a Santa hat. Smoking a cigar.”

I stared at it. It stared back.

There were bells on the sleeves.

“Absolutely not.”

Riley grinned wider, stepping in close and holding it up to my chest. “Come on. It’s very rugged lumberjack. With holiday flair.”

Beckett snorted. “You mean it’s a crime against fabric.”

“I’m not wearing that,” I said flatly, arms crossed as if I were facing down a hostile forest fire.

“You are,” Riley said, matter-of-fact, “because I said please. And also…” she batted her lashes dramatically, “you love us and want me and Lucy to have the best Christmas ever.”

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

She had me there.

“Fine,” I growled, snatching the sweater out of her hands like it might bite me. “But I’m not wearing the bells.”

“You’re absolutely wearing the bells,” Lucy chimed in, already waving a green monstrosity at Beckett. “We suffer together.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is that a reindeer twerking?”

“It’s dancing!” Lucy protested. “He’s festive!”

“He’s an abomination,” Beckett said, horror creeping into his voice as she handed it to him like it was sacred cloth. “There’s glitter on this. Literal glitter.”

“Christmas glitter,” she corrected, beaming.

Asher was digging through the bag like a kid on Christmas morning. “Please tell me mine lights up. Please tell me it has LEDs.”

“It has lights,” Riley said cheerfully. “And a 3D elf hat sewn onto the hood.”

“Yes!” Asher held it up victoriously. “I’m gonna blind people with holiday cheer.”

“And yours,” Lucy said, turning to Riley with all the drama of a runway reveal, “is this beauty.”

She pulled out a sweater so pink it could cause eye strain. It was covered in sparkly ornaments, a sequined tree across the front, and in glitter text, it read: “Sleigh All Day.”

Riley squealed. “I’ve never loved anything more.”

Lucy’s own sweater was no less ridiculous, an aggressively festive red number with a giant stuffed gingerbread man stitched to the front and the words “Oh Snap!” printed beneath his broken cookie leg.

We looked like a group of elves gone rogue.

Beckett was still staring at his reindeer as if it had insulted his entire bloodline. “If anyone takes a picture of this, I swear I’ll burn this entire town to the ground.”

“Smile, babe!” Lucy chirped, holding up her phone.

“Don’t you dare?—”

Click .

Too late.

By the time we pulled out of the cabin driveway, the snow was falling in thick, lazy flakes. One of those quiet storms where the world outside turned soft and white, and the only sounds were the rhythmic sweep of the wipers and Riley humming along to the holiday playlist Asher had insisted on.

Damn, I couldn’t stop looking at Riley.

Sure, we didn’t know what the future held. We didn’t know if she was going to stick around, but I kinda liked the idea of her being mine .

Ours .

I wasn’t a man who acted on impulse. I didn’t let people in quick or easy, and I sure as hell didn’t fall for women who came crashing into my life like a one-woman blizzard.

But Riley Brooks? She’d gotten under my skin. Burrowed deep. Made a home there.

And tonight was proof. Because I was driving into town wearing a goddamn sweater with a moose in a Santa hat.

It itched. It jingled. And I’d pulled it over my head anyway, because she’d asked.

Because she’d smiled up at me as if I was some kind of miracle, and not just a man trying to figure out what the hell it meant to want someone this much. To need her in ways I didn’t have the language for.

She caught me looking over at her at a red light, where even the stop sign was wearing a knitted scarf someone in town had probably made.

“What?” she said, grinning, her cheeks pink from the heater and maybe a little from mischief.

“You make me laugh,” I muttered. “This is all madness.”

That made her blink.

“It’s festive,” she corrected, holding up her arm so I could see the absurd pink monstrosity she was wearing. “We’re all in this together, right?”

I shook my head and turned back to the road.

“You look good, by the way,” she added, tracing her finger along the hem of my sleeve. “Like a very grumpy lumberjack who lost a bet with Santa.”

“Keep talking like that and I’ll turn this truck around.”

She laughed, full and unbothered. It was almost as if she’d always been part of this.

We pulled into Lucky’s as another wave of snow started coming down. The lot was packed, trucks and SUVs lined up crookedly, festive lights blinking through frost-covered windows.

Inside, I could already hear the dull thump of music and the familiar rise of voices layered in laughter and whiskey-soaked cheer.

“Ready?” she asked as we climbed out, snow crunching underfoot.

“Not even a little.”

She looped her arm through mine. “Good. Me neither.”

We stepped through the doors and were instantly hit with heat, noise, and the scent of pine, cider, and beer-soaked wood.

Lucky’s was packed, locals wall to wall, every face either someone I knew or someone who knew me. Holiday lights blinked overhead, half of them burned out, none of it bothering anyone.

“Holy shit,” Jaxon hollered from across the bar, raising a cider like it was a trophy. “Garrett Wolfe in a sweater. Somebody call the Gazette .”

“Shut up,” I growled, but Riley laughing beside me made my lips twitch. I might’ve worn the damn sweater under duress, but I’d do it again if it meant seeing that smile.

“Garrett Wolfe. In a sweater,” Lila joined in with a laugh. “Tell me someone’s filming this for the historical record.”

Riley leaned in to whisper, “I like her.”

“You’d like her even more if you knew how many knives she probably has in that diaper bag.”

“True.”

Behind her, Colt raised his glass in greeting. “Riley, you look like a holiday-themed fever dream. It’s perfect.”

“Thank you,” she said brightly, fluffing the sequined tree on her chest. “Garrett doesn’t like the theme at all .”

“Aww, well, he sure looks good.” Ryan laughed. “Look at him.”

I glowered. But I didn’t get a chance to say anything back.

“Biscuit, no?—!”

Oh shit.

Lila’s corgi, decked out in a tiny elf costume with a jingle bell collar, had broken free from wherever he’d been tethered and tore through the bar like a festive wrecking ball.

He barreled straight under a table where Vera and Paul Baker were sitting, snagging a loose tablecloth and dragging it, along with an entire plate of gingerbread cookies, into his wake.

The cookies exploded like shrapnel.

“Oh my god ,” Riley gasped, laughing so hard she nearly doubled over. “He’s like a holiday missile!”

“Biscuit!” Lila shouted, trying to wrangle baby Jace and the dog at the same time. “Ryan! Get him!”

Ryan stood with all the energy of a man about to enter combat. “Colt,” he said, already moving.

“I’m on cookie retrieval,” Colt said, diving for the fallen plate.

Biscuit zigzagged toward the dartboard, then did a full U-turn and headed straight for Todd behind the bar, barking furiously at a bowl of bar nuts.

Todd didn’t flinch.

“Come here, gremlin,” he muttered, reaching into his apron and pulling out a slice of cheddar.

Biscuit skidded to a halt, gave a full-body wiggle, and gently took the cheese as if he was an angel who hadn’t just caused five minutes of seasonal destruction.

Applause broke out across the bar.

“Hero,” Lila said dryly, scooping Biscuit up with one arm and re-fastening his jingle bell collar. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Riley wiped tears from her eyes, leaning against me. “That dog might be my new favorite person.”

I wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her close. “He’s definitely more well-behaved than Beckett.”

Beckett flipped me off without looking.

Behind us, Lucy was already dragging Nate Harper onto the dance floor. His face was all scowl, like he’d rather be walking into a burning building barefoot, but Lucy didn’t give him a choice.

She looped her arms around his neck and swayed in her glittery gingerbread man sweater, laughing at something only she found funny.

Nate looked like he didn’t know whether to be horrified or delighted.

“She’s definitely leaving with him tonight,” Asher said, clutching his eggnog. “What do you think? Do we approve?”

“Of Nate?” Beckett muttered. “Hell yeah. He’s one of the good ones.”

Lucky’s seemed to get busier by the moment, and before I knew it, Riley and I had found ourselves in a little alcove in the corner of the room.

Sure, we could probably be seen by everyone under normal circumstances. But with the place this packed, it felt like a little moment alone.

Just the two of us.

“Are you trying to get me alone in a dark corner, Wolfe?” Her voice was teasing, but there was a spark there, an invitation.

“Maybe,” I said, my lips twitching into a half-smile. “Or maybe I just need to escape from watching Colt convince Biscuit that eggnog is his new life’s mission.”

Her laugh was soft, but it warmed me through. “You’re no fun.”

I wasn’t, not when it came to things like this. But for some reason, I was starting to care less.

“Do you think anyone’s watching?” Riley asked, her breath warm against my neck as we stood shoulder to shoulder.

“I don’t care,” I said, my voice low and hushed. “Let them watch.”

Her eyes flickered with that mischievous glint again, and before I could stop myself, she was leaning in closer, brushing her lips against my jawline.