Page 3 of A Very Bumpy Christmas
“Now we do,” Lucas says easily, eyes flicking back to me with a smile.
And just like that, my weekend in the mountains has gottenwaymore interesting than planned.
2
Melanie
Dogs rush me as I step closer to Charlotte. I breathe in the fresh air, and try not to keep looking at Lucas as he and Asher talk about security things. But it’s hard, y’all. So hard. He’s the epitome of handsome. Beyond that, really. He’s like a perfect specimen of man. Muscles galore. Eyes the color of the sky on a winter day. And a smile that could melt hearts. I think mine is literally melting right now.
I immediately get body-checked by a golden retriever the size of a loveseat and fall back down to reality. “Hi, Moose,” I laugh, because obviously he’s the dog Moose Char’s been telling me about. “I am honored you picked me as your new mom.”
“Get in line,” Charlotte calls, waddling off the porch in a cream beanie and hiking boots, her hand resting on her baby bump. She collides with me in a hug that’s been too long. “You made it!” She rubs her belly. “I’m about to pop, so I’m glad you came before the baby comes and adds to the madness.”
I give her another squeeze. “You’re going to be a great mother.”
She smiles, her hand sliding to her back. “I’m just ready for this one to be here already. The waiting is the hardest part.” Her smile shines. “I’m just so glad you made it.”
“Me too. I’m so proud of me.” I glance past her shoulder at the panoramic view. “Is this a movie set? Be honest.”
“Just our backyard,” she says, all smug sunshine, and it makes me ridiculously happy.
Asher raises a hand to wave. “Welcome to the ridge, Melanie.”
“Hi, Dad Friend,” I tease, because I can see all the dogs looking to him as the Alpha. “Love what you’ve done with the forest.”
“The forest came preinstalled,” he deadpans. “We just added dogs.”
As if on cue, three more show up—one dignified gray-muzzled shepherd, a brindle pittie with the zoomies, and a tiny black floof that looks like it’s running on espresso.
“I brought my camera, an extra battery, and a pocketful of bribes,” I say, producing a zip bag of training treats. All six dogs sit. “Oh. They’re professionals.”
“Asher runs a tight ship,” Charlotte says, bumping him with her elbow. “Speaking of, our crew is in and out this weekend. You’ve already met Lucas—he just got back from an out-of-town assignment with Riggs.”
“I have,” I say with a big smile. “He’s quiet like a crockpot.”
Lucas’s eyes shine and he gives me that heart-melting smile again. My knees buckle, but I try to pretend he doesn’t have that kind of effect on me.
But how can he not?
He huffs a surprised laugh. “Haven’t heard that one.”
“Give it time.”
“Lucas,” Asher says, by way of introduction. “Melanie’s helping shoot adoption photos this weekend.”
“Copy that,” Lucas says, and somehow “copy that” manages to sound both tactical and flirty. “Welcome to snow-melt season. Watch the slush—black ice hides under it.”
“Understood.” I pivot to head toward the house and step straight into a thin ribbon of invisible ice. My heel skates. Moose yips like he’s calling a foul.
Strong hands catch my elbows before gravity wins. I end up braced chest-to-chest against approximately six feet four inches of field-tested core strength. He steadies me like it’s nothing, like he does this all day: catch civilians, handle emergencies, smell annoyingly nice. It’s extremely rude.
“You okay?” Lucas asks, voice pitched low, eyes scanning my face for damage. “Hurt anything?”
“Only my dignity,” I say, breath doing a weird sprint thing. “Which was already iffy.”
Charlotte is grinning and failing to hide it. Asher is wearing his neutral “I saw nothing” expression. The espresso floof is licking my boot.
Lucas releases me once my footing is sure. “Told you. Black ice.”
