Page 38 of Fake It Till We Fall
Too crooked.
Too lopsided.
“This one’s cute.”
“Not cute enough.”
“You’re picky.”
“I’m looking for perfect, remember?”
My breath hitched. “I remember.”
Were we still talking about Christmas trees? Somehow, I didn’t think so. It both scared and thrilled me.
I took a step back, my foot catching on a root buried under the snow. I lost my balance, yanked my hand free from his and, with a dramatic whirl of arms and legs, fell backward into the snowdrift.
“Harper!”
I reached for my face, using my mittened hands to brush the wet snow out of my eyes to see Grayson standing over me, concern on his face.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded as he extended his hand to help me up.
I should have thanked him and laughed it off. But I reached for his hand and, instead of letting him pull me up, I tugged. Hard. And pulled him down into the snow with me.
He landed half beside me, half over me, our laughter tangling together in white puffs of breath in the cold air that hung between us. But just as suddenly as it had happened,the laughter faded, because there was nothing funny about how close we were and how warm his body felt against the sharp contrast of the snow.
His eyes searched mine, and I stopped breathing altogether.
When his lips brushed mine, it was tentative at first, as if he were testing me—us. But then his hand slid behind my head, and I leaned into him, and it was nothing like the staged kisses we’d shared in recent days. This was different.
Raw. Aching and everything I’d forgotten I wanted.
By the time we pulled apart, my pulse was racing.
He smiled and brushed snow from my cheek. “Come on. Let’s go get you that tree.”
I let him help me up this time, not trusting my knees to hold me.
When we finally picked the right one, full and even, with branches strong enough to hold all the heavy ornaments, Grayson handed me the saw.
“You should do the honors.”
“You’re sure?” I raised a brow.
“Of course.” His grin was crooked and endearing. “After all, it’s yours.”
I smiled and crouched beside him, our shoulders brushing as I sawed through the trunk, and he held the tree steady until finally, it toppled into the snow with a soft thud.
“Timber!” Grayson cried out, and we both laughed like kids.
By the time we wrestled it into the truck bed and climbed back into the cab, my hair was damp with melted snow, and my cheeks ached from smiling.
The heater blasted warm air, and the silence stretched between us. Not uncomfortable. But charged with everything we hadn’t said…and the kiss we’d shared replaying in my head.
I reached for the radio and turned to a station playing Christmas carols.
