Page 34 of Bad Boy Bachelor Christmas
Maurice came out of the kitchen and cleared away our dishes. I told him to cut out early this evening and that I would handle the kitchen cleanup. As per usual, he refused, but after a brief and enthusiastically French back and forth from his side of things, he conceded and went down the hall to put on his jacket and shoes. Winter watched the whole thing in amusement but never said a word. When we heard the front door close behind my chef, the rest of the house hummed with pleasant silence, save for the crackling fire in the living room, as if it were calling to us to come near its warmth.
We did.
Winter settled into the deep corner of one of the brown leather sofas and tucked one leg under herself. She held her wine glass close to her body as she gazed into the flames. “My mother has a holiday dress too,” she said rather spontaneously.
“Oh?” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. Speaking about women’s dresses would have bored me any other night, but for some reason, talking about such a mundane thing with Winter felt almost captivating.
She smiled wistfully, those heart-shaped lips of hers daring me to stare at them again. “It’s navy blue velvet. She’s had it for a long time. Decades maybe. I think it was a New Year’s dress originally, but she wears it every Christmas Eve now with a Christmas tree pin right here.” She rested a hand over her heart. “It has a matching pair of earrings.”
I wondered if her mother was as beautiful as Winter herself. Did they share the same upturned nose? Were their complexions equally fair, like fresh snow dusted in freckles across the high points of their cheeks?
Winter sighed and sank deeper into the corner of the sofa. “One day I’ll have a job where I can be home more in December. One day,” she said a little more firmly this time, “I’ll be the master of my own ship.” She nodded resolutely.
“Do you want to start your own design business?”
She lit up brighter than the flames of the fire. “Yes, when the time is right.”
“I have complete faith you’ll succeed.”
She lifted her wine glass in a toast. “Thank you. That might be the nicest thing you’ve said to me since I got here.”
“Don’t get used to it.”
She giggled. “I wouldn’t dare.”
CHAPTER16
WINTER
North’s company this evening felt different somehow, less abrasive. I might have even called it warm, but that could just be the wine talking. How many glasses had I had now? Three? Yikes.
I should slow down.
We lost track of time talking over the following hour. He told me all about the tree farm property when his grandfather had acquired it, and how everyone in town had thought him crazy to turn such a rocky minefield into a farm of any sort. But he had an eye for agriculture and a mind for expansion, and he’d done his due diligence properly fertilizing and turning over the fields before finally starting to grow crops of treessix whole yearsafter buying the land.
The house itself had begun as a much smaller structure, just a three-bedroom home with a large main room and functional kitchen, but as the family and their wealth grew, plans were made to build the sprawling home we sat in now. I had to admit, it was the most magnificent house I had ever set foot in. It oozed masculine energy with all the exposed wood beams and deep tones, but it didn’t have that coldness I was used to in homes owned by bachelors. This place still felt warm somehow, like the woman’s touch hadn’t been gone all that long.
My mind inevitably went to his deceased wife. My insides shriveled up, and I set my wine glass down.
North noticed the time. “I should walk you back to the cabin.”
I didn’t want to go. My behind felt glued to the seat and I didn’t want to leave the warmth of the fire—or his company for that matter. But it was midnight, and we had work the next day. We were helping Justin with his open house.
I forced myself out of the corner of the sofa. Once on my feet, my head buzzed from the wine.Oops.
North must have noticed how unstable I looked as he steppedoverthe coffee table between us with his freakishly long legs. “Are you all right?”
I nodded and pressed a hand to my forehead. “I think I stood up too fast.”
He made a deep, growling sound in the back of his throat. “You had quite a scare earlier. Maybe the wine after the adrenaline rush wasn’t the best idea.”
“I’m fine,” I assured him. “The walk will clear my head.”
His eyes were on me as we went to the back door where I quickly donned on all the clothes I had taken off before he offered me a steadying hand while I bent over and put on my boots. I accepted. His grip was warm, firm, and callused.Strong.
He stepped out into the cold first and I followed. As soon as I was out from behind his massive frame, the cold bit into me. He picked up the shotgun he’d left propped up against the side of the house and braced it on his shoulder. I bundled myself deep in my coat, and we took a few steps out into the night, leaving the halo of light surrounding the house behind.
We were halfway to the cabin when I stopped in my tracks.
