Page 11 of Riding the Pine

“Do you want some help?” There’s emotion in his tone but I can’t place it. He hasn’t stepped into the room. He’s keeping his distance, standing in the doorway, not invading my space. Do I want him to? Is this sudden burst of unstable emotion working its way through my veins something I want to share with my brother’s best friend?

Biting my bottom lip, I shake my head. “I’m good, thanks. The boys are upstairs.”

Even without turning to look at him, I know he hovers, like he’s torn between respecting my dismissal and wanting to insert himself into my very scientific process of untangling these lights. I’m going to make damn sure they’re stored in a more sensible manner for next year. This is a battle no one deserves to face.

After pretending to ignore his existence for a long moment, he huffs out a long breath and leaves, taking some of the tension from the air with him.

I’m not sure how long it is before I take a break, but when I stand up, there’s a cramp in my calf, my back aches, and my butt is asleep. Safe to say I’ve been here a while. And the tree still isn’t dressed.

This shit is for the birds. I’m regretting my life choices to start this process in the first place.

My water bottle is empty, my travel coffee mug is empty, and my bottle of pop is empty too. After a quick trip to the bathroom, I head to the kitchen to get a refill before I start the decorating process now that the hard work of detangling the clump of lights has been completed.

As soon as I step into the kitchen I’m accosted by sights and sounds I wasn’t expecting. Ares and Scott are bent over Mom’s majestic yellow kitchen mixer, clouds of flour are exploding into the air as the mixer runs at full blast.

Apollo and Artemis are in charge of décor. Twin one is hanging streamers and balloons around the room, while Twin two is battling with a ‘Happy Birthday’ banner. I think it’s safe to assume that Scott has reminded my brothers today is my birthday. If they’d remembered by themselves, this chaos would have already been finished before now.

As if he can tell I’m thinking about him, Scott turns to me, his intense blue eyes cutting through the mayhem of the kitchen. He’s got a streak of flour accenting his right cheekbone, and there’s a stack of sticks of butter and blocks of cream cheese on the counter in front of him.

So far as I can tell, my brothers aren’t aware of my presence at the kitchen door, and as delayed as it is, I don’t really want to ruin their surprise or diminish their efforts.

I wave my empty bottle at Scott who nods and jerks his chin like I should leave them be. I hope that means he’ll bring me a refill.

I return to the living room, giving my whole attention back to this way-too-big tree and the strings of lights laid out in lines on the carpet. By the time Scott appears, I’ve got half a cord of colored lights wrapped around the pine-scented branches. I’m on a small stepladder, because when I say the tree is massive, I’m not exaggerating. It’s probably a good eight feet tall.

“Your drinks, m’lady.”

Even though I expected him and knew he had come into the room, his gruff voice still startles me, and I lose my balance. As if he’s making a prediction, he tosses my water bottle onto the couch and places a mug on the end table just as my foot slips off the edge of the step. I’m falling in slow motion. My stomach leaps into my throat as I instinctively throw both hands out to break my fall, but it never comes.

Strong, warm arms quickly band around my body, saving me from colliding face first with the floor. I squeak as Scott catches me on a grunt and turns me toward his chest.

Time freezes while we stare at each other, my cheeks heating from the embarrassment of being a damsel in distress, needing a strong man to save me from… well, anything really. My namesake was a fierce and ruthless warrior, brave and fearless. Any time life threatens to consume me, I remind myself of the great goddess Athena and the qualities she reportedly displayed and try to channel those.

The silence between us stretches out like a long stretch of Arizona desert. When his tongue snakes out to wet his bottom lip, I can’t help but flick my gaze to track its motions.

“My hero,” I manage, making us both chuckle in awkward amusement.

“I brought you drinks.” He’s talking to me, but his eyes are pinned to my lips like they might hold a secret he’s waiting for with bated breath.

“Got a little more than you bargained for.” I’m acutely aware of the fact he’s still holding me, crouched with me in his arms like an oversized baby.

A throat clearing makes Scott stand up, and our attention is pulled to the doorway. Ares has a weird look on his face as he regards his teammate cradling his sister. I bet he’s not thinking about how athletic and firm Scott’s muscles are as they hold my bodyweight, but it hasn’t missed my attention that his body isn’t that of a wiry teen anymore. He may be seventeen years old, but he’s bulking up into quite a well-defined man.

As he stands me up, my body brushes against the front of his, sending a shiver along the curve of my spine. I steady myself by placing my palm on his chest. Well-defined indeed.

“I need your help.” Ares sounds amused but I’m not looking at him to find out. “When you’re done helping Athena.” Beforehe turns to leave, I take half a step back from Scott, then shuffle a little further still. I need to put some space between me and the manly scent he has no business emanating as a seventeen-year-old teenager.

When my heel catches the leg of the small stepladder, both Scott and Ares dart in my direction, but I steady myself before I go down, again.

I hold up a hand, waving at them to leave me to drown in the quickly growing pool of embarrassment I’m standing in. “I’m good. Go help him.”

Scott’s eyes catch mine one last time, hesitating for just a long enough beat for me to notice before he nods and follows my brother back into the kitchen.

What the hell is wrong with me? What is it about Scott Raine that throws me off balance. Literally?

My fingers absently drift to my lips as I stare toward the now empty doorway. We never kissed, he drew a very clear boundary between us, and the way he moved on to the all-too-eager bunnies after the game last month reminds me of how he enforced it. But there’s something between us, something… more. Something that could probably flicker into a flame if we lit the kindling.

My racing heart, and the pulsing under my skin where he held me in his arms, remind me that it’s something I’d like to pursue, something I’m curious about. I don’t give a fuck that he’s a year younger than me, in the grand scheme of things that means nothing. I care that he drew the line in the snow, and that I have to respect.

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