Page 32 of A Cozy Holiday
“And the flirting.”
“And how do you think it’s going so far?” Externally, I look like I have it together, back straight, chin tilted. Internally, my body is an inferno, and I’m seconds away from ripping the buttons off his shirt and dragging my nails through his chest hair.
“I think it’s going mighty fine. On account that I can see your heart beating under this adorable sweater you’ve got on.”
“Mr. Wilder!”
“Only fair since you called me a lab rat this morning.” Jamie tsks. “Look, I don’t know what this is yet. But it’s comfortable. And it’s been a long time since I thought about anyone in a way that felt comfortable.”
I can’t help smirking. “I’ve never been very good at comfortable, either.”
“See? We can figure out how to be comfortable together.”
“I should warn you—I suck at letting people in. Work gets in the way. I’m terrible with emotions.”
“With you? No way,” he teases, and I knock my fingers on the brim of his hat. His laugh rumbles through me. “Let’s just enjoy the next month. But if it’s all right with you, I’d like to take it slow.”
“Slow as in…”
He laughs. “You want a research paper that defines slow?”
“Yes. Do you have one?”
“We’re gonna have fun together.” Jamie lifts his hand toward me, then freezes, fist clenched, unsure.
I should be happy. I’m about to start a holiday fling to tell Miriam about, but curiosity burns through me.
Am I just a rebound from his wife?
Do I care?
“Can I ask what happened to your—” I stop myself. What if he starts crying on the spot? I usually have a box of tissues for my patients. I could offer him my sleeve?
“My wife?”
I don’t want to look at him. “It’s rude of me to ask. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Been over nine years. Tessa moved to town when I was in middle school, and we kinda just stuck.” He looks over my shoulder at the cabin, then up at the trees. “We got married the summer out of high school, had the twins a year after. But she was never happy here. Always wanted to see the world. When the twins were six weeks old, she photographed the northern lights and landed a gig withNational Geographic. After that, she was gone more than she was home. Her team went out on a ledge in Iceland they weren’t supposed to, and—” His jaw tightens, a shadow crossing his face.
“That must have been hard.”
“Harder on the girls. They don’t even remember her.” His posture softens an inch as his gaze settles back on me. “I loved her. But we’d been growing apart for years. I was angry for a long time. Now I just want to give my daughters the best life I can.”
I swallow. The tenderness, the responsibility, the heartbreak—it’s a lot. I reach out, touch his arm, and his large hand clamps over mine.
I’ve never met a man so okay with being vulnerable.
“You’re a good dad.”
“I try. Though apparently not good enough at makeup.”
“I can teach you when I help them on Saturday. Seems like you’ve got plenty more dances to survive.”
“Thanks, Joy.” He exhales, then smirks. “Do you dance?”
“Are you asking me to the Cranberry Social?” I joke, wanting to break this tension. “Because after the snowshoe incidentyesterday, I don’t think I can show my face at their school ever again.”
“No. Was gonna see if you wanna come to the bar on Friday. Girls are staying with my parents, and there is a live band.”
