Page 23 of Christmas Treasures

They stood in silence for a beat, the glow of the greenhouse suddenly feeling too bright.

Max cleared his throat. “I should go.”

Charlie nodded, eyes on the floor. “Yeah. Okay.”

Max walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the latch. What was he doing? He should tell her the truth. Otherwise, he would never know. “For the record, even though my life’s about to change, I’m interested in you. And not for your money.”

“Why?” Charlie asked softly. “Why me of all people?”

“Because you moved to a place simply because you remembered a cheese from a small town in Vermont. To me, that’s all I need to know about a person. But I understand if you’d rather not get involved with a man who suddenly has a tangled-up situation. Regardless, thank you for a great night. I enjoyed getting to know you better.”

He turned and let himself out before he said anything further. He’d said enough.

6

CHARLIE

Charlie woke to a dull ache behind her eyes and the gentle weight of Fig stretched across her chest like a smug, oversize paperweight. She turned over, groaning, which made her fat cat grumpy. Fig gave her a malevolent look before jumping off the bed, making his usual loud thump when he hit the floor. She lay there for a moment, replaying the events from the night before. She never drank that much, and this was exactly why. Her inhibitions had been loosened for one night, and she was kissing the town hunk in her greenhouse.

That kiss. It had curled her toes. Made her lightheaded and weak-kneed. All the things one felt right before making a disastrous mistake and falling for the wrong person. She would forget it ever happened. Get on with things before she got hurt.

Only she couldn’t forget.

Fig, apparently no longer annoyed, returned to the bed, landing on her toes, then sauntering toward her before rolling onto his back with his legs up in the air.

She scratched behind Fig’s ears, sighing when he purred like a small engine. “You’re judging me.”

Fig lifted one heavy paw and placed it squarely on her face.

“Okay, fine,” she mumbled through fur. “I kissed him. Or he kissed me. There was mutual kissing.”

Fig squinted, unimpressed.

“I know what you’re going to say. It was late. There was wine. I tripped. It’s a classic rom-com setup. But Figgy, I really like him. I feel like myself when I’m with him. Maybe my better self.”

Fig yawned.

“Fine. You win. Let’s go eat.” She pushed Fig aside gently and sat up, her head pounding slightly as she padded into the kitchen. She filled the kettle and reached for her tea tin, trying to pretend her pulse wasn’t doing weird things every time she thought about Max’s mouth.

Or his words.

Or the feel of his chest and shoulders.

Even though my life’s about to change, I’m interested in you. And not for your money.

No one had ever said anything like that to her before. And it was terrifying.

She poured the water over a bag of mint tea and leaned against the counter.

“This is exactly what I don’t do,” she told Fig, who had now relocated to the kitchen table and was licking one paw with disdainful precision. “I don’t get involved. I don’t swoon. And I definitely don’t fall for charming men with fantastic smiles and good wine instincts.”

Her phone buzzed.

She stared at it for a second longer than she should have, then reached for it.

It was from Max.

Hey. Not sure how you’re feeling this morning. If it’s hungover and ashamed, then no worries. I understand. But if it’s a mild headache and you’re curious to know me better, I’d love to see you. I need help with Bianca’s room. I could ask Abby or my mom, but I’d really like your input. I want her to feel safe and welcomed when she gets here.

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