Page 2 of Mistletoed with the Mountain Man
He's also clearly out of his element as his gaze sweeps the cramped shop…every surface covered with vintage treasures, antique furniture creating a maze of narrow pathways, and approximately six thousand breakable things between him and the counter.
"Hi," he says, his voice a low rumble that does inappropriate things to my insides. "Sorry, I didn't mean to...I was just..."
"Creepily staring through our window?" I supply helpfully.
His cheeks go red. "The display. I was looking at the display."
"Sure you were."
Aunt Meredith elbows me in the ribs. "What my niece means is: welcome to Mountain Memories. I'm Meredith, and this charming creature is Nia. How can we help you today?"
The stranger—and god, he really is seriously hot in that clean-cut, probably-does-push-ups-for-fun kind of way—carefully navigates around a Regency settee and approaches the counter.
Which means he’s approaching me, since I'm still standing here like an idiot.
The man’s at least six-three to my five-six, with this contained energy about him that suggests he's probably very good at keeping things under control.
Disciplined.
The thought sends an entirely unbidden shudder through me.
"I, uh..." He clears his throat. "This is going to sound strange."
"Strange is our specialty," I say. "Last week, someone wanted to buy Aunt Meredith's antique dental equipment. We don't judge."
"It wasn't for sale," Aunt Meredith adds. "But we were flattered by the interest."
A ghost of a smile crosses his face, and wow, okay,that'sdangerous. "My family’s renting a cabin up the mountain for Christmas. Big place, needs decorating, and I..." He rubs the back of his neck. "I'm not great at this stuff. The creative stuff, I mean. I can do manual labor or organize paperwork all day, but making things look...festive? That's not in my skillset."
I lean against the counter, trying to ignore how good he smells—something woodsy and fresh that makes me want to lean closer. "So you need decorations?"
"I need someone who knows what they're doing." His gaze meets mine, direct and a maybe a little desperate. "Someone who can make it look magical."
Oh, that's not fair. Looking at me like that, all vulnerable and sweet, while having a face that could sell cologne and a voice that could narrate my dirtiest?—
"Nia does decorating," Aunt Meredith announces, shoving me forward slightly. "She's incredible at it. Makes all of our window displays.”
"Aunt Mer?—"
"She's available too," my traitorous aunt continues. "Veryavailable. Flexible schedule."
The stranger's eyes light up with hope, which should not be as attractive as it is. "Really? Would you consider it? I'd pay well. It's for my sister mostly. It’s her first Christmas married to my new brother-in-law, and my other brother will be coming too. First time we've all been together in a while, and I want it to be perfect. Special."
There's something in the way he says it, a softness beneath the gruff exterior, that makes my heart do a stupid little flip.
"I don't usually do private jobs," I start, which is a lie because I've never doneanyjobs. I just make pretty displays for my aunt and avoid adulting.
"She needs the money," Aunt Meredith says, bluntly. "And the experience. You'd be doing her a favor, really."
"Aunt Meredith!"
"What? You do need the money, sweetheart. Can't live on hope and glitter forever."
The stranger looks between us, clearly unsure if he's walked into a family intervention or a business negotiation. "I don't want to impose?—"
"You're not," I say quickly, shooting my aunt a look that promises revenge later. "But I should probably know your name before agreeing to spend time alone with you in an isolated cabin."
His cheeks go red again.
