Page 16 of My Greatest Joy

“You sure you know how?” He shoots me a smirk, and I roll my eyes. “Just figured that if you can’t cook…”

“Rude.” I scowl, and he chuckles.

“And for that, I withdraw my offer.” I return to the couch, dragging my blanket with me. To my displeasure, Dasher follows.

I curl up into a ball, basking in the warmth of the fire. When Levi comes into view, he’s wearing gray sweatpants.

Tightly corded muscles line his stomach and arms, making me swallow hard as I avoid his gaze. He definitely caught me gawking.

Shit. He needs to put on more clothes.

“I’m gonna check the furnace and see if I can get the pilot light to stay on.”

I almost offer to help, but I know he’d probably make a joke about my lack of skills, so I sink into the couch instead.

“Alright, I better add more layers in the event you fail,” I mock. I’m already wearing two pairs of fuzzy socks, a long-sleeved shirt underneath a heavy sweatshirt, and two layers of leggings. No matter what I do, I can’t get the chill out of my veins.

“Pretty mouthy for someone who’d never be able to survive living off the grid.”

“That’s not true,” I lie. “I choose not to put myself through that torture.”

He licks his lips, pulling them into a cocky grin as he scrubs his hand over his scruffy chin. “Okay, Little Miss Seattle. You’re getting a lesson in country living. Come on.”

He walks away before I can ask any questions, but I follow him anyway. When he opens the door to a utility room, I know I’m in trouble.

“Hold this for me.” He hands me a flashlight without waiting for me to respond. Apparently, I’m his permanent flashlight holder. “Now aim it down here for me.”

I kneel and do as he says, sneezing when he brushes off a layer of dust.

“You allergic?” he asks, crouching next to me.

“To filth? Yes.”

He snorts.

“Just hold it steady.”

After ten minutes of the pilot light coming on and flickering off, he shrugs his shoulders in defeat.

“It’s not gonna stay lit.”

“What’s wrong with it?” I rush out, my breath floating in the crisp air in white bursts.

“Either it’s still too windy or a sensor went bad and needs to be replaced.”

“Is that easy to fix?” I ask.

“For a professional, yeah, but it’s not something I’m equipped to do.”

We both stand. “Really? I thought the Christmas-mountain man-lumberjack could fix and do anything.”

He smirks as if he’s amused. “Within my skill set, sure. But I’m not an electrician and don’t have spare parts lying around to replace something like that.”

I sigh with an eye roll.Just great.

He waves out his hand. “But hey, if you wanna give it a shot and tinker around until your ass gets zapped, be my guest. Remember, I can’t get you to a hospital.”

I toss the flashlight at him, and he shoots me a shit-eating smirk. “I’ll take that as a no.”

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