Fallon: Uh, it’s not gas, and I don’t see any wood. And no way am I playing lumberjack in this weather.
??
Taryn: Glad you made it okay. Is that a Christmas tree in the bedroom?
Fallon: Unfortunately. ??
Fallon: The whole place is decorated like a department store. It’s weird.
Taryn: Maybe you’ll end up leaving that place loving Christmas again. ??
Fallon: Doubt it. But anyway, I’m gonna get some work done, then go to sleep so I can start working first thing in the morning.
Taryn: What time is it there?
Fallon: Just after six.
Taryn: Don’t work too hard. Hope you get some decent sleep.
Fallon: Yes, Mama Bear. Night, sis.
I smirk at the nickname I gave her a long time ago because she’s so overprotective. And still is to this day. Taryn doesn’t care that I’m an independent, thirty year old woman, I’ll always be her kid sister.
Just as I start sorting through emails and am about to reply to one of Peggy’s, I hear a dog barking downstairs, along with muffled speech.
What the hell?
Did I forget to lock the door behind me?
The hair on my arms stands up as I grab my pepper spray. I look around, wondering if I can quickly slide under the bed. The closet is across the room, and I nearly stop breathing as I try to hear what’s going on. Paws race up the stairs, and they’re followed by heavy footsteps. Before I can scream, the door swings open, and a naked six-foot mountain man stands in front of me, looking as confused as I feel.
I inspect his dark hair and scruffy facial hair as his piercing blue eyes meet mine with horror. My gaze roams down his muscular body, seeing all of him, and panic continues as he steps toward me.
That’s when I scream and pull the safety from my pepper spray.
Thiscannotbe happening.
CHAPTERTWO
LEVI
Since one ofthe biggest storms of the season is supposed to hit this evening, I spend most of the day helping my parents at our Christmas tree farm. After I chop a fuckton of wood for them, I go to my twin sister Lucy’s house and do the same for her.
“Thanks, bro!” She waves, already dressed in her pajamas.
I look at my watch. “It’s barely four.”
“So? It’s a pre-snow day.” She shrugs. “Thanks again for the wood.”
“Welcome. Couldn’t let ya freeze. Check in with me after the blizzard passes,” I tell her, knowing I need to get home to do the same. “Come on, Dasher,” I say as my golden retriever begs to go inside with her.
“He wants to stay with me,” she teases. “It’s because he likes me more.” She pets him, bending down and kissing his head.
“Dasher!” I whistle. He bolts toward me, hopping through the snow, making sure he’s wet and filthy before getting in the truck. I give my sister a wave, then drive the couple of miles to my place.
The temperature is steadily dropping, and over the next few days, we’ll get pounded with over twenty inches of snow along with harsh winds. Most of the town and grocery stores have already shut down. I actually enjoy winter storms and being stuck inside with Dasher. It’s Mother Nature’s way of making me rest during one of the busiest times of the year. While it might slightly hurt profits, it’ll pick up again, and we’ll be swamped once we reopen. Last-minute tree buyers aren’t that uncommon.
Once I’m home, I park my truck on the side of the house closest to my shed. Dasher gets out and chases a rabbit to the edge of the woods, and I have to yell at him to come back. He does, then I unlock the back door, grabbing him a few treats for being a good boy on the farm today. Once he’s gobbled them up, we go out to the shed to start working. All my extra wood is stored here, and I chop it year-round to keep it stocked for winter.