Page 9 of Whiskey Kisses For the Mountain Man
"You're overreacting," Lettie says, crossing her arms over her chest, which only serves to push up her breasts under that ridiculous sweater. I force my eyes back to her face.
"Did Ezra arrange this?" I demand. "Did he tell you to move in next to me?"
She frowns. "No one 'told' me to do anything. Nora helped me find this place because I needed somewhere to live during the festival planning."
"Convenient," I mutter.
"Honestly," she says, "this is the only available cabin right now. The others are being renovated."
My eyes drift past her to the lawn, where a massive inflatable Santa waves cheerfully next to what appears to be a ten-foot-tall, light-up reindeer with a glowing red nose that's probably visible from the highway.
"What the hell is that?" I demand, pointing.
She follows my gesture, and her face lights up. "Rudolph! Isn't he magnificent? I had him shipped overnight. The nose is motion-activated."
"Take it down."
"Excuse me?"
"The reindeer. The Santa. All of it. Take it down."
She lifts her chin, a spark of defiance in her eyes. "I will not. I'm the Christmas Festival coordinator. It would be weird if my place wasn't decorated."
"I don't care if you're Mrs. Claus herself. That thing will light up the entire mountain."
"You're being ridiculous," she says. "It's just a few decorations."
"A few? Your cabin looks like the North Pole threw up on it."
From the tablet, Tomlin snorts. "He's not wrong, Lettie. You did go a bit overboard."
She shoots a betrayed look at her friend. "Whose side are you on?"
"Team Drama," Tomlin answers promptly. "This is better than Real Housewives."
I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache building. "The lights. Turn them off after ten. Some of us need to sleep."
"They're on a timer," she says. "They go off at eleven."
"Ten."
"Ten thirty."
"Jesus Christ," I mutter. "Fine. Ten thirty."
She smiles victoriously, and something in my chest tightens. I need to get away from this woman before I do something stupid like notice how her eyes sparkle when she smiles or how a strand of chestnut hair has fallen across her cheek.
"Now, if you'll excuse me," she says, "I have cookies in the oven."
"We're not done," I protest, but she's already turning away.
"Later, Mountain Man," Tomlin calls from the tablet. "Try not to choke on your own grumpiness."
The door closes in my face, and I stand there fuming for a solid ten seconds before stalking back to my cabin. The moment I'm inside, I pull out my phone and call Ezra.He knew about this.He had to have known.
The call connects, but it's not Ezra's voice that answers. "Hello?"
"Put Ezra on," I demand, not bothering with pleasantries.
