by Jill Sanders
“Still, you could have a wine cellar.” She thought of the possibilities.
He smiled. “I don’t think I can drink that much wine.”
They stepped into the basement and he flipped on more lights. There were a few boxes sitting near the bottom of the stairs.
“In here.” He pulled out a box marked Pictures. “Whatever you find in here, feel free to use around the house.”
She went through the pictures, setting some aside, knowing she’d want them blown up and framed. Matt looked over her shoulder as she went.
“This was you?” she asked, holding up a baby picture. He chuckled.
“Yeah, I was a chubby baby.” He took the picture from her.
“Most are.”
“Were you?”
“No, my mother didn’t want a chubby baby, so she kept me on a strict diet and took me to mommy-and-me workout classes.”
He frowned at her. “For real?”
She nodded. “Yes, and every time I was with her, she’d have me join the gym or go with her to her private trainer. One year, when I went back to Italy, my father was upset because I’d dropped almost ten pounds. I tried to tell him it was just because Mom and I had stayed active that year. She’d been dating yet another personal trainer. Anyway, she stopped insisting after speaking to my father. I thought he was going to blow a gasket.” She smiled.
“How old were you?”
She thought about it. “Fourteen.”
“She did all that before your teen years? It must have changed the way you looked at yourself.”
“Not really.” She set a photo book on her lap. A spider crawled across it, and she flicked it away.
“Whoa!” He stopped her. “Did you just swipe a spider away like it was a fly?”
She chuckled. “Yes.”
“You’re my hero.” He shivered and had her laughing.
“Don’t you like spiders?” she asked.
“Can’t stand them.” He glanced around and edged towards the stairs. “Serious arachnophobia here.”
“What else are you afraid of?” she asked.
“No.” He shook his head. “I gave you one, you have to tell me one.” He sat beside her after making sure the spider was long gone.
She thought about it. “Being alone, like Anna Beth. Like my mother.”
He took her hand in his. “You’re not alone.”
She smiled and thought about the future.
“What?” he asked.
“What if… something changed? Between us?” she asked.
“It won’t.” He cupped her face. “If it did, we’d learn to work around it, together.”
She leaned her head back against the cement wall. “I’ve never known anyone like you before.”
His smile grew. “That’s good, because otherwise you wouldn’t have waited around for me.” He leaned in and kissed her. “Now, how about we get out of this spider-infested basement and head back upstairs. We have Christmas decorations to hang and a tree to chop down.”
She smiled and felt her heart shift. “Can I chop it down?” she asked.
He wrapped his fingers around her arms and raised his eyebrows. “I think you’ve got the upper body strength to chop down a tree.”
He carried the box upstairs and set it on the countertop for her to go through later. She’d scan the images tomorrow and order prints and then head in to Classy and Sassy to see if they had any frames that would fit.
For now, she pulled on her thick coat, slid on her winter boots, and shoved her fingers into the little gloves she had hidden in her jacket pocket.
“Those won’t do,” Matt said, frowning down at her hands. “Here.” He walked over to a drawer in the laundry room and pulled out a thick pair of gloves.
“Those are two sizes too big,” she joked as she put her still-gloved hands into the bigger ones.
“At least your digits won’t get frostbite.” He smiled. He wrapped her scarf around her neck and then put on her matching red beanie. “Ready?”
She nodded. They exited from the garage. He picked up an axe and threw it over his shoulder.
“Do you know what we need?” he asked her as they walked along his driveway and headed to the back part of his property.
“What?” she asked as she enjoyed the snow falling.
“A dog. A big stupid one who’s going to mess on the carpet and chew my shoes.” He glanced over at her. “One that, no matter how many times I try to teach him, will never grab me a beer from the fridge.”
She laughed. “Why would you want a stupid dog?”
He took her massive gloved hand in his. The glove almost slipped off her, but she bent her knuckles and kept it on.
“Because they’re the most loyal, the ones you have the most fun with. Smart dogs are good, but the dumb ones, I’ve learned, are the ones you remember the most.”
She glanced over at him and could see the sadness in his eyes.
“What was his name?” she asked.
He looked over as a hint of a smile played at the corner of his lips. “Super Dave Osborne.”
She laughed. “You named a dog that?”
“Sure. The real Super Dave Osborne was a comedy character, a stunt double who always got injured when his stunts went comically wrong. Dave, as I called my dog, was always falling over his feet.” He chuckled.
“I bet he was a good dog.”
“You like dogs, right?” he asked, looking at her sideways.
“Of course. Just because I have a cat, doesn’t mean I’m biased.”
“Good.” He relaxed. “I dated this girl once”—he cringed—“then found out she hated dogs.”
“What happened?”
“I had Dave dump her.” He smiled. “Tied a note to his collar. He walked up to her, but she was too afraid of him to take the note, so Dave chased her around the yard like a loon, trying to give her the gift on his collar.”
“How old were you?” she asked.
“Six.” He smiled and she laughed.
“You were years ahead of me.” They turned off the pathway, and he held a branch up for her to step underneath. “I didn’t get my first boyfriend until I was eleven.”
“First love?” he asked.
“No.” She shook her head. “Tony Daniels was my first lust. He had blond curly hair, silver-blue eyes, and a ten speed.”
He laughed. “There’s one.” He pointed to a large tree.
“That’s massive.” She squinted at it, trying to imagine if it would fit in the living room. “Too big.” She pointed to another tree a few feet away. “That’s the right size, but it has a bald area.”
They turned in circles. “How about that one?”
They walked around the tree together.
“It’s perfect,” they said at the same time.
“How do we go about cutting it down?” she asked, looking down at the trunk of the tree.
He got down on his knees and slowly cleared the bottom of the tree. Then he removed the protective cover on the sharp edge of the axe. “There, now you should be able to get in here and start chopping.” He stood and handed her the axe.
She questioned the sanity of wanting to chop the tree down herself.
“It’s not that hard,” he assured her. “Here, like this.”
She took the axe from him, and he took her hips in his hands and positioned her beside the tree. He moved a few branches aside. “Now, when I step back, swing and try to hit it about two inches up from the ground.”
He dropped his hands from her hips, and she waited until he was standing a few feet away from her. Taking a deep breath, she swung the axe and missed the tree altogether.
A burst of laughter came from her chest. “Yeah, that was smooth.”
“Try again.” He nodded. “Did you ever play softball?”
“No.” She shook her head. “No sports for me.”
“Okay, well, then… just keep your eyes on the trunk of the tree, not the axe.”
She tri
ed it again, focusing on the spot on the tree she wanted to hit. When she swung, the axe connected. She felt the hit reverberate up her arms. Chips of bark flew off the trunk.
She smiled up at Matt.
“Good job, now just a few hundred more of those and the tree will be down,” he joked.
She frowned. “How many swings does it take you?”
He glanced at the trunk of the tree, then said, “About half a dozen.”
“You think you can chop this tree down in six swings?”
“Sure.”
Willing to forgo the experience to see him chop the tree down, she held out her hand. “Bet?”
“Sure, what?” He moved closer and took her hand.
“If I win, you do the dishes all week.”
“Deal, and if I win…”—he leaned closer to her and whispered—“I get to go down on you all week.”
Her face heated as he shook her hand quickly and then walked away. “Better stand back.” He motioned to her.
She moved back, images of what he’d do to her flooding her mind as she watched him take the first swing. After one hit, there was a large chunk of the tree missing, which told her that it would probably take him fewer than six hits. She smiled.
Less than five minutes later, he carted the six-foot tree behind him, dragging it in the snow. He had a silly grin on his face.
“You do realize that I sort of win more than you do,” she mentioned
He chuckled. “Says you.” He shifted his arm.
“I can help…” He looked at her quickly and she stopped. “You’re doing all the work.”
“This is my favorite part of the holidays,” he admitted.
“Chopping down a tree?”
“Yes.” He stopped, set the trunk down, and motioned around them. “Walking through the woods, my woods.” His smile grew. “Seeing it snow, feeling the bite of cold on my body.” He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I can just imagine we’re the only ones for miles around.” His eyes returned to hers. Then he closed the space between them and had her in his arms. “Just us.” He kissed her, and her entire body heated. “Just like this.” He sighed. “Now I want to go in, put up this tree, decorate it, make some hot chocolate, build a fire, and make love to you on that fancy new rug you bought to go in front of the fireplace.”
She smiled. “That sounds amazing. Better than any holiday I’ve ever had.”
He chuckled, picked up the tree, and started walking again.
It took a little maneuvering to get the tree in the front door. She laid down some of the plastic left over from painting so that pine needles wouldn’t fall everywhere in the hallway.
They both worked up a sweat trying to get the tree straight in the stand. He added some water, and she started opening all the boxes of Christmas decorations she’d purchased both online and in Sassy and Classy.
“Wow, all this is Christmas decorations?” Matt glanced around the room.
“Yes, we have more than just a tree to decorate.” She motioned. “The front of the house, for instance. I figured we’d hang all the outside lights tomorrow.” She motioned to a stack of boxes. “That’s all for outside. Those are for the rest of the house—the kitchen, then there are garlands for the stair banister, small little holiday statues and lights for throughout the house. There’s even a small artificial tree for the bedroom. Since the window seat hasn’t been installed yet, it will sit there.”
“Okay.” He threw his hands up. “What’s for the tree and in here? We’ll work on the rest later.”
“These.” She walked over to the stack she’d set by the fireplace. The tree sat between the large crossed windows and the fireplace.
“Okay, let’s get working.” He walked over and plugged his cell phone into the speakers. Soft Christmas music filled the room. “There, now we’re ready.” He rubbed his hands together and sat in front of the first box.
It took them longer than she’d expected, since some of the glass ornaments she’d ordered were individually packaged.
While he worked on opening all the smaller boxes, she laid the garland over the fireplace mantel and placed the paper lights around the room. When she found some of the decorations she’d purchased from his cousins’ store, she set them around the room on the end tables and side tables. A red and clear crystal holiday bowl that she’d fill with holiday treats sat in the middle of the coffee table.
Matt had finally opened all the small boxes, and everything was laid out. “Shall we start on this?” He motioned towards the tree.
“Lights go first.” She pulled out three boxes of LED lights.
“Perfect.” He took the boxes.
She was surprised at how patient he was with the perfectionist attitude she had when it came to decorating.
As she stood back and directed him, he didn’t complain once about how long it took. When the lights were done, they hung the red and gold decorations all over the tree.
They stood back, and he wrapped his arms around her. “Wow, that looks amazing.” He kissed her forehead.
“Job well done.” She nodded.
“How about that fire and hot chocolate now?” He turned her so that his arms wrapped around her hips.
She leaned up and kissed him. “Don’t forget the other part.”
She felt his chuckle reverberate against her chest. “I’d never forget that part.” He kissed her and had her toes curling in her Christmas socks.
She disappeared into the kitchen to make the hot chocolate while he started the fire. Standing there, looking out over the land as fresh snow fell, she wondered how she’d gotten so lucky. Would this ever get old? She doubted it. Hugging her arms around herself, she closed her eyes and realized that she could see herself here years from now.
She thought about returning to her small apartment alone with only Butters as company and dreaded it. The thought instantly depressed her.
Matt had talked about her staying on after the holidays, but was he thinking of forever?
Chapter 15
The day finally came to pick up Blake’s parents at the airport. They had finished putting up all the decorations Blake had gotten for the house. He had to admit, the home looked very festive.
Her mother’s flight came in almost an hour before her father’s did, which meant they would be staying in Portland long enough for Blake’s mother to want to do a little shopping. Matt had been raised around his mother and two sisters, but they had never prepared him for the kind of shopping her mother had in mind.
Meeting the beautiful and famous Vaya Shelby was a little nerve-racking at first. But when he saw how the woman interacted with Blake, he’d stopped being impressed and awestruck.
The woman acted more like a younger sister to Blake than a mother. And the woman easily spent ten thousand dollars during the hour wait they had. She was beautiful, of that there was no doubt, but her beauty was only skin deep.
Blake’s father, however, instantly impressed him. The bear of a man engulfed his daughter in a hug and held onto her as his eyes ran over Matt.
“So, you are Matthew Jordan?” the man said in a thick Italian accent. He held out a hand and Matt could see that it was bigger than his.
“I am.” He smiled. “How were your flights?”
The man waved his hand. “Later. For now, I want to hear all about my daughter’s new man.”
They all climbed back into the truck, and Matt watched as her parents’ eyes locked for what he assumed was the first time in over twenty-five years.
Next to him, he felt Blake tense, her eyes scanning her parents’ faces.
“Vaya, sei bellissima come sempre,” Hershel Ricci said smoothly, picking up her mother’s hand and placing a kiss across the knuckles.
Vaya smiled. “You always were a smooth talker.”
Matt could see Blake relax. The trip back to Pride was oddly enjoyable. Blake filled her parents in on her job and how she’d transformed his place. They were both so eager to see his home that
they agreed to stop by the house before going out to dinner and before he dropped them off at his parents’ bed and breakfast.
“So, your family, they own Jordan Shipping and the local town restaurant?” Hershel asked.
“Along with a few other stores in Pride,” Blake told him. “His cousins just opened a boutique, his uncle is the town doctor, and his aunt is the mayor of Pride.” Blake took his hand in hers.
“The way Blake puts it makes it sounds like we run the town.” He chuckled. “The Jordans have been in Pride for five generations now.” He smiled, remembering the short visit they’d had with his sister and Ethan and Ellie.
“Five?” Blake’s mother asked. “Wow, have you ever thought of leaving the country life? Heading towards the city?”
He glanced back at her. “No. I’ve traveled the world. There isn’t any place I’d rather call home than Pride.” He glanced over at Blake and she smiled at him.
“I’ve fallen in love with the town as well.” She turned her head and looked back at her mother. “I’m thinking of moving here myself.”
“We’ll turn off here, to see the house, then head into town for some dinner.” He turned down the road that led towards his driveway.
When the truck started going up the hill, he was reminded once again of needing it paved next year. “I’ll pave this come spring,” he said absently. “For now, we have 4-wheel drive.” They made it to the top of the hill and his house came into view.
Since the daylight was fading, all the Christmas lights had been turned on by the timers. The place looked more beautiful than he’d imagined it would.
“This is your place?” Blake’s father asked.
“Yes.” He smiled and took Blake’s hand. “Ours,” he said softly. “Your daughter has done wonders in making it into a home.”
He parked in front so that Blake’s mother could walk down the clean pathway to the front door. There was a light dusting of fresh snow, but it was clear enough for the high-heeled boots she was wearing.
As they walked around his home, he could see the impressions change on her mother’s face. They ended in the living room and stood around the tree. He wrapped his arms around Blake as she told her parents about the jobs she had lined up with his sister and cousin. Even his mother had scheduled her to revamp a few of the cabins.