Page 10 of Bad Boy Bachelor Christmas
Grumbling, I trekked out of the kitchen and out the back door of the house. I already had my boots and a plaid jacket on. The cold still bit into me, but I was more than used to it, and the fresh pine-scented air rejuvenated me.
Damn Maurice.
What rumors was he talking about? I hadn’t heard any stirrings around the house. The girl hadn’t even been here for twenty-four hours. The majority of the staff hadn’t even laid eyes on her, and he was claiming she was pretty?
What did he know?
The bottom of the box was still warm when I reached the cabin. Smoke curled out of the chimney and the lights were on. I was surprised she was awake. Winter had an air about her that she liked to sleep in. Perhaps it was her youth and my own bias. I stepped onto the porch, knocked, and heard her come to answer the door.
She wrenched it open and grinned up at me wearing red and white snowflake printed pants, fuzzy red socks, white slippers, and a large red sweater. Her long brown hair was a curly mess around her shoulders, and she drew it up in a low messy bun.
“Good morning,” she chimed brightly.
I held out the box. “Morning.”
“What’s this?”
“Take it.”
“Okay, Mr. Seriousness.” She took the box, opened it up, and removed the silver lid, revealing what looked like a more than appetizing eggs benedict—Maurice’s specialty. Her mouth fell open. “This is for me?”
“Yep.” I turned and moved down the steps. “Eat up, then get changed. Did you get the boots that were dropped off last night?”
She nodded.
“Good. Make sure you wear those. I’m going to give you a tour of the property. Wear a jacket, too.”
Winter frowned. “You’re going only to come right back?”
I said nothing. What did she want me to say? Yes?
“Why don’t you come in?” She stepped back, balancing her breakfast on one forearm. “I’m willing to share.”
“No thank you. I’ll be back in an hour.” I remembered Maurice’s reminder to elevate my hosting capabilities. “Enjoy your breakfast.”
* * *
Precisely one hour later, I pulled up to the cabin on my four-wheeler. The engine hummed and rumbled and the seat vibrated beneath my ass. As I was about to dismount, Winter emerged from the cabin appropriately bundled up for the cold morning. She came down the steps, grinning from ear to ear, and said something I couldn’t hear over the purring motor.
So she repeated herself once she climbed on the back. “I’ve never ridden one of these before! What do I hold on to?”
“Me,” I called over my shoulder.
Winter shimmied her hips back and forth, trying to get comfortable behind me as the machine continued to grumble like an impatient dog between my thighs. She reached around my sides and tried to fully encircle me, but she couldn’t reach, so she plunged her hands into my pockets and balled them into fists, holding on to the interior lining.
That will have to do, I suppose.
“Ready?”
Winter nodded her chin against my back. “Ready!”
Anybody and their mother would have been able to tell that Winter was a novice on the four-wheeler, so I didn’t give it a lot of throttle. We started off at an easy pace, and I steered gently around the trees, pointing out different ages as we went and which ones would not be cut down for several years yet. I explained that we grew large trees, which I showed her at the very back of the property, for the superior Christmas events.
“Superior?” she called into the wind. “What defines a ‘superior’ Christmas event?”
“Rockefeller Center, for example.”
“Wow,” she gasped, gazing up at the massive trees reaching toward the sky. She leaned in close. “I used to watch the lighting ceremony every year with my parents, and the arrival of the tree. I always wondered where they got them from. I sort of assumed giant lumberjacks trekked into the wilderness and cut them down with axes.” She giggled. “I guess I wasn’t that far off, huh?”
