log structure. Being snowed in with Jason, of all people, would be more stressful than sliding down the slick mountain road. Her hands clenched. She and Jason had too much history, and she hated how he still got under her skin, evoking a physical awareness she hadn’t experienced in ages.
“Do you even know who lives here? Or are we about to commit an act of breaking and entering?”
“This is now my home. Don’t you remember it? I brought you here a couple of times to visit my grandmother.”
Her gaze moved past him to the covered porch, with its two wooden rocking chairs. She searched her memory. At last she grasped on to a vague recollection that brought a smile to her lips. “I remember now. She fed us chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven. I liked her a lot.”
“She liked you, too.” His lips quirked as though he’d been transported back in time—back to a life that wasn’t so complicated. “I inherited this place from my grandparents, along with a trust fund my father couldn’t squander.”
Glowing light from the dashboard illuminated Jason’s face, highlighting the discomfort he felt when mentioning his dad, as he opened the door, letting the frigid air rush in. “Wait here. I’ll leave the heat on while I shovel a path to the porch.”
She refused to let him overexert his injured leg again on her behalf. With a twist of the key, she turned off the engine and vaulted out of the SUV. She sidled up next to him as he limped along.
He frowned down at her. “Don’t you ever listen?”
“Only when I want to. Now, lean on me and take some pressure off your leg.”
He breathed out an exasperated sigh before draping his arm over her shoulder. She started to lean in closer, but then pulled back, keeping a respectable distance while still assisting him. She refused to give in to her body’s desire to once again feel his heat, his strength. She had to keep herself in check. This was simply a matter of he’d helped her and now she was returning the favor—that was all.
On the top step, they paused. Her eyes scanned the lengthy porch. Her gaze stopped when she noticed a freshly cut pine tree, all ready to be decked out in colorful ornaments and tinsel. She remembered as a child accompanying her father and grandfather to the local Christmas-tree farm to cut down their own tree. The fond memory left her smiling.
“I’m so jealous,” she said as Jason pulled away to stand on his own. “You have a real Christmas tree. All I ever have time for is the artificial kind. I remember how the live trees would bring such a wonderful scent to the whole house.”
“A neighbor asked to cut down a tree on my property, and thanked me by chopping one for me, too. The thing is, I don’t do Christmas.”
“What do you mean, you don’t do Christmas?” Her eyes opened wide. “How do you not do Christmas? It’s the best time of the year.”
“Not for me.” His definite tone left no doubt that he wanted nothing to do with the holiday.
Her thoughts strayed to her daughter and how her eyes lit up when they put up the Christmas tree. Even in the lean years before her promotion to office manager, Kara had managed to collect dollar-store ornaments and strings of lights. With carols playing in the background, they would sing as they hooked the decorations over the branches.
The holiday was a time for family, for togetherness. A time to be grateful for life’s many blessings. Not a time to be alone with nothing but your memories for company. The thought of Jason detached from his family and friends during such a festive time filled her with such sorrow.
“I haven’t celebrated it since...my mother was alive.” His last words were barely audible.
Kara recalled when they were dating how he’d always have a small gift for her, including the silver locket at home in her jewelry box. But he’d always made one excuse after another to avoid the Christmas festivities.
“Surely after all these years you’ve enjoyed Christmas carols around a bonfire, driven around to check out the houses all decked out in lights or exchanged presents with various girlfriends?” Kara didn’t want to dwell on that last uneasy thought.
He shook his head.
“What about the military? Didn’t they do anything for the holidays?”
He paused by the front door. His back went ramrod straight.
“I always opted to be on duty,” he said, his tone clipped. “I’ll get rid of the tree the first chance I get.”
“How could you possibly throw away such a perfect tree? You’re home now. Time to start over. A chance for new beginnings...” Her voice trailed off. She didn’t want him to misconstrue her words—to think she wanted them to have a new beginning. Not giving him time to ponder her statement, she continued, “You should try joining in the fun. After all, it’s the most joyous time of the year.”
Kara forced a smile. She couldn’t believe she was trying to talk him into celebrating the exact same holiday during which he’d broken her heart. If he wanted to be an old, cranky Scrooge, why should she care?
Jason didn’t say anything as he opened the door and stepped aside, allowing her to enter. In the narrow opening, her arm brushed against him, and even through the layers of clothing an electrical current zinged up her arm, warming a spot in her chest.
Staying here wasn’t a good idea.
Being alone with her new boss was an even poorer idea.
This whole situation constituted the worst idea ever.