Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73330 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
She frowns with a side-eye that confirms she will not be going outside.
As soon as I open the door, Dasher flies off the deck and into a huge snow bank. He still has as much energy as he did the day I brought him home two years ago. If it were up to him, he'd live outside twenty-four seven.
“C'mon, Dash. This way.” I head toward the wood shed. I'm used to being out here alone. I like it and don't mind the quiet. It's peaceful, and the views are irreplaceable. Having Fallon here for the past couple of days has been an interesting change and a reminder of what it's like to have someone around. Too bad she's a grinch who wouldn't know happiness if it plowed into her.
Also, who the hell hates Christmas?
A beautiful woman who's snippy as fuck, that's who.
I can't help but wonder if her biases will find their way into her writing. She could have a huge impact, and not in a good way. It's already hard enough for local small businesses to keep up, and a bad feature could negatively affect their revenue. The holiday tourists shop a lot, and that money keeps them afloat throughout the year.
I was born and raised here and won't let some grumpy spoiled city girl tear it down.
If I could talk to my best friend, Finn, he'd tell me to do whatever it takes to make sure that doesn’t happen. Show her what the town is really about—community, holiday spirit, and a place people visit to reconnect.
As soon as this storm passes, I'll give her a personal tour and show her everything we have to offer. It’s a shame she’s so reluctant because the town goes all out to create a magical holiday experience for visitors. Even if her first impressions haven't been great, I'll personally make sure she enjoys herself the rest of the time she's here.
As soon as the wheelbarrow is full, I whistle, and Dasher comes running behind me, beating me to the house. I roll and set the load down on the deck and then open the door.
“Hey, Fallon!” I call out and wait for her to approach. “Hold out your arms.”
She raises her brows. “For what?”
“You stay here, you work here. Bring these logs inside.”
I scoop them up and wait for her to comply. “You want extra heat or not?”
She sighs, finally agreeing. Carefully, I set a small stack of wood in her arms, and my hand runs along her wrist, repositioning a few so they don’t fall loose.
“Got 'em?”
“Yeah. Now what?” She glares, which is unfortunate. She's too pretty to always be scowling. Her long dark-brown hair is silky smooth, and images of yanking it hard as I take her from behind run through my mind. Just thinking about widening her thick thighs as her green eyes pierce through me has me growing hard.
“Set them next to the fireplace, then come back for more,” I say, adjusting myself when she turns around.
Dasher follows her into the house, and I hear her scold him for stepping on her heels. I snicker at how eager Dasher is for her affection.
After the fourth load, Fallon stomps back to me and huffs. “How much more? My arms are tired.”
I hand her one more pile and wait as she secures them. “Last one for now. I'm gonna go grab more.”
“Since I unloaded this one alone, you can do that one, then.”
I arch a brow in amusement. “If we're playing by those rules, then you can cook dinner since I made lunch.”
“Alright, but don't blame me if you get food poisoning.”
“Oh, c'mon. You can't be that bad.”
“I once set my oven on fire making a cauliflower pizza,” she deadpans. “So yeah, don't trust me in the kitchen because I'm never home in time to eat dinner.”
“Wait...how'd you manage that? Also, cauliflower on anything sounds disgusting.”
She looks too embarrassed to answer and spins around, marching toward the fireplace. Instead of letting her get away, I follow her.
“You left the cardboard on, didn't you?”
“Maybe.” She walks in a maze around Dasher as he relentlessly tries to get her attention.
“What'd you have the oven set to? Five hundred?” I taunt.
She drops the logs beside the others, then brushes the loose bark off her sweater. “If I tell you, no laughing.”
I withhold a smirk and cross my arms. “No promises.”
She scoffs. “You're...not wrong. I was reading something on my phone while setting the temperature, and I guess I didn't realize what I’d done until it was way too late.”
Scratching a hand over my beard, I hold back laughter as I grin. “Yep, that'll do it. So no pizzas, then. Doesn't mean you're completely helpless.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Anyone can learn the basics if they try.”
“I can manage a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.”
I pat my stomach. “I do love me some cereal.”