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“Mom asked me and Cassie to do a sleigh run for her,” he answers. His tone is casual, but I hear the slight hitch in his voice. It’s the only tell that he just lied to his best friend.
Micah doesn’t notice though and he just carries the box outside, whistling under his breath as he goes. It’s some old Frank Sinatra song that our dad loves. Just like that, my brother’s warning from all those years ago comes back to me. Don’t do this. If you like him, they’ll make us leave. We always have to leave.
Even from a young age, I knew I was the problem. Families loved Micah. I was the unadoptable one, the reason we had to leave. Until we found the Kringles and suddenly, we had a home.
Micah never made me feel bad about having to leave but I could see the disappointment in his gaze every time. The way the light in his soul would dim a little more with each failed placement and my anxiety would become a little worse.
As we grew, they offered to separate us, and I knew what every social worker was telling my brother. They were telling him that he was good. He could have a family if he’d just let go of his little sister. He always refused. Even when we did get separated for a little while, he’d find his way back to me. Micah is my rock, and I can’t hurt him.
Snowball approaches West with a welcoming meow, rubbing along his legs. Even I can’t get the cat to greet me with anything other than a hiss.
“Mom didn’t ask me to help,” I tell West with my hands on my hips. I don’t know why I call him out, but I do. Probably because we’ve always irritated each other, always gotten under the other’s skin.
He picks her up and cuddles her close to his chest, like they’ve been best friends for years. My cat likes my crush too.
“Come with me anyway.” He holds out one gloved hand, his cheeks ruddy from the winter weather. “Everyone will assume a couple of friends are spending time together.”
Is it that easy to dismiss? I’m afraid my feelings for West show, that everyone knows. That scares me more than anything because the truth is, I don’t want to have to leave any more than Micah does.
“We’ve never been friends,” I answer.
He doesn’t flinch. We both know we aren’t friends. We’re just two people thrown together in a weird set of circumstances that mean we grew up together. “Never too late to start being friendly.”
Oh, the way he says the word friendly. The last thing I’m thinking about is friendship. I’m thinking about hearing his voice rumble in my ear as he calls me his good girl. I’m thinking about how it’d feel to be naked in front of a fire with only his body against mine, about the look in his eyes right before I sprinted away last night. My whole universe shifted after that kiss. It’s the only thing on my brain since the moment it happened.
Before West can respond, Micah is back in the workshop.
West drops his hand, disappointment flickering in his expression. He’s expecting me to reject him, to tell him no. That’s the last thing I want. Besides, he said everyone would just think we’re being friendly. There’s no harm that can come from this.
“Let me wash up before we go,” I tell him, gesturing at my messy hands that are dotted with paint. From hand-carving the heirloom wooden toys to painting them, there’s not a part of the process I don’t handle myself. I love that every item is handmade by me with love and care.
West’s eyes light up, a sure sign that I’m probably making a mistake. I can’t lead him on. It wouldn’t be right. But I can enjoy a nice sleigh ride with him today. Later, I’ll gently tell him this isn’t going anywhere.
He hovers nearby while I wash in the big basin sink. I can hear him talking with Micah. They’re casually discussing ranch business. My brother is acting totally normal, like he doesn’t suspect anything is happening right under his nose.
Meanwhile, I’m back here with my face flushed and my hair a mess and all I can think about is how good it felt when West put his hands on my hips. I want him touching me in other places, murmuring again in that low, sexy voice of his.
I take a second to fix my hair and wish I could change out of the old t-shirt I’m wearing. But Micah would definitely notice that. He’d assume that my crush is back. But it never really left. I just buried it for a long time.
* * *
“You’re beautiful,”West says. He’s watching me lock up the workshop. It’s set far enough back from the rest of the ranch activities that I don’t worry about human visitors. It’s animals like the bears and wolves that haunt these woods that I worry about.
I can feel his gaze on me, warming me even as I stand out here in my bright red winter coat and my favorite skirt paired with blue snowflake leggings. The ones that are faded in all the right places and cling to my curvy frame.
I finish locking the door and turn to him. “That’s not something you say to a friend.”
He takes two steps closer, invading my space until I bump my back against the door. The sensation barely registers because all my attention is focused on the handsome cowboy. He’s staring down at me with a feral hunger in his gaze. “Never said I was your friend.”
My knees are weak, and my mouth is dry. “You said—”
“I said we could be friendly,” he answers casually. “Seems you and I have a very different idea of what that means.”
I glance around, suddenly aware that we’re outside. Without thinking, I blurt out, “You can’t kiss me here. Anyone could see.”
He frowns and steps back. “Let’s get these deliveries started.”
My chest aches, thinking that I might have hurt his feelings. West is the last person I’ve ever wanted to hurt even if he is grumpy with me most of the time.
