Page 44 of A Very Merry Mistake

He smiles and nods. “It was. Can’t wait for my kids to experience it.”

“You want children?”

He turns and meets my gaze, and our bodies are close. Almost too close. I can smell the mint of his toothpaste and the hint of his soap.

“Maybe one day. Isn’t that the natural progression of life? Live it to the fullest with the love of your life?”

“Sounds like a romance book.”

This makes him crack a smile, and he sucks a deep breath. “Easier said than done, I guess. But one day, yes, I’d like a family. My nephew is—”

“You’re an uncle?” It comes out almost like a surprise.

“Oh yeah. My brother has a son. Colby. He’s such a sweet kid. Kind. Helpful. Very chatty. He’s three. Been having a rough time since his mama left them, but my brother is making the best of it.”

My jaw nearly falls to the ground.

“I know, we were shocked, too. Anyway, wanna see a picture of him?”

I grin. “Yes, absolutely.”

He pulls his phone from his pocket and scrolls briefly before turning the screen around. It’s a picture of Jake and Colby sitting on his couch. Tinsel is on the little boy’s lap, and his tiny hand rests on her back.

“Wow. He is the cutest kid I’ve ever seen. Look at his dimples and big green eyes. And Tinsel loves him?”

“She adores him, even though he wants to pick her up and carry her awkwardly around the house.” He laughs. “She likes to play with him and chase him around, too.”

“That’s so sweet. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. I’m a proud uncle.” He glances at the picture one last time before locking his phone and sliding it in his pocket. “Now, let’s get this wood loaded.”

“Good idea.”

Jake carefully grabs the handles of the wheelbarrow that was leaned against the wall and sets it down on the ground. “After you.”

He holds out his hand, allowing me to go outside first as he wheels it behind me. When we’re close to the small stack he’s cut, I bend over and help him load them into the bucket.

“Okay, you have to try to chop at least once. You’re not leaving Merryville without the full experience.”

I tilt my head. “You can’t be serious.”

He lifts his brows. “Do I look like I’m kiddin’?”

“I don’t know how,” I explain. “I’ve never held an ax in my hand before.”

“Luckily, you’ve got a pro teachin’ ya.” He waves me over after he sets a log upright for me.

“Okay, now what? I just swing it?”

“You’re adorable. Let’s get your grip right,” he says, picking up the ax and standing directly beside me. “You’re going to want to put your hands around the wooden handle like this. Keep your grip firm so you don’t lose it when you lift it over your head.”

I look down at it, and Jake grabs my hands and places them exactly where they need to go.

Not knowing the weight of it, I lift it. “You really think I can do this?”

“You don’t know until you try. But if your strength is anything compared to your stubbornness…”

I elbow him in the ribs, and he chuckles.

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