Page 58 of Deck the Hauls

Dana flicked on the light, illuminating the living room, and stepped forward, studying my face. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” I whispered, taking her in.

Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, icicles dangling from wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail.

My heart pounded in my chest.

I wanted to kiss her so badly.

Our eyes locked, and the electricity zapped through me again, lighting me up from head to toe.

I leaned in as Dana’s hands grabbed my hips, pulling me snug against her. Oh god.

And then our mouths met and everything else melted away.

CHAPTER TWENTY

DANA

The lights flickered, and Emily pulled away, her cheeks pink, her chest rising and falling.

I blinked, my heart thudding in my chest. What just happened?

“Sorry,” Emily said, ducking her head. “I got carried away.”

My shoulders dropped. Did she think our kiss was a mistake? I mean, I knew it was a mistake. An incredible, extremely enjoyable mistake. She was leaving... We were meant to be just friends... But part of me hoped Emily didn’t see it that way.

“That’s okay,” I said as I pulled off my jacket and shook off the snow. “It’s been a big night. I think we both got a bit carried away.” I blinked, taking in Emily’s wet hair and soaked clothes. “We should get you in the shower before you get too cold. I’ll grab you a towel and a change of clothes.”

I bustled Emily across the living room to the bathroom, grabbing a towel from the linen closet and cranking the heater on the way. Once she shut the door behind her, I grabbed gray sweatpants, a t-shirt and a hoodie from my bedroom.

“I’ve left a change of clothes just outside,” I called through the wooden door.

“Thank you!” Emily said, her voice muffled.

Shivering, I changed into navy sweatpants and a hoodie with Red Tractor Farm emblazoned on it, toweled my hair to dry it, and then walked to the kitchen, my mind still buzzing from the kiss.

Did it mean Emily was attracted to women? Did it mean she was attracted to me?

But even if she did like me, how could it work? We lived in different places, had very different jobs.

I would be setting myself up for heartbreak all over again.

I sighed. I should make us some food.

The fridge was depressingly bare. A few eggs, goat cheese, pickles, butter, milk, yogurt that was past its due date and some droopy carrots.

Hmmm.

I frowned. We wouldn’t starve, but Emily came from a family of foodies. I wanted to make her something half decent. I collected the kitchen scissors and flashlight, yanked my thick waterproof jacket off the hook next to the back door, and ran outside, bracing myself against the icy gusts. Snow crunched under my feet as I made my way over to the veggie patch. I scooped up the snow and threw it to the side until a green leek poked through. I yanked out the leek and cut a large handful of snow-covered spinach, my ears burning with cold, then jogged back inside, exhaling as I shut the door behind me.

I hated to think what impact the storm was having on the trees. All the heavy wind combined with the snow could do some serious damage. What terrible timing, just before opening weekend. I’d have to do an inspection once it was over to survey the damage. There was nothing I could do right now.

I got to work, washing and chopping the spinach and leek, crumbling the cheese, frying the leek in butter, and then throwing in the spinach at the end to wilt it. I mixed the vegetables and cheese together with the eggs and poured it back into the frying pan on the stove top. Not the most exciting meal, but it would do.

Just as I flipped the omelet over, the bathroom door clicked open.

I dropped two slices of bread in the toaster and the house plunged into darkness.