He made up a few seconds with the first cut. As the circular piece of wood dropped down to the ground and he started on the second of three cuts, he saw a blond head moving out of his peripheral vision.
He didn’t look to see if it was Avery, but the flash of blond made him think of how her pink nails would look against the bright yellow of the chainsaw. The image of her in safety glasses gripping a chain saw floated through his brain. She’d probably wear a stylish shirt and maybe leggings and have that infernal cat strapped to her chest. In his head, he moved behind her, wrapping his arms around her and showing her how to hold her thumb so if the chain snapped back it didn’t break and how to tilt the saw to get the most aggressive use of the blade width and the perfect amount of pressure to keep the saw cutting but not snagging in the wood. He could smell her sassy-sweet perfume.
Beside him Kristen dropped the last piece of wood and dropped her saw, sprinting off to the last station.
Gator shook his head, trying to get the tempting images of Avery out of his brain. He never had this much trouble concentrating. He hadn’t made up any time at all. In fact, he might have lost a second.
By the time he finished his cut, Kristen was already up the last pole with her hatchet and had about a quarter of the pole chopped through.
Grabbing his hatchet, Gator climbed easily and began chopping, taking out his frustration on his lack of focus on the pole. Whatever infatuation he had with Avery had to be overcome. He couldn’t live his life daydreaming about a woman. He’d never been plagued like that before, and he certainly wasn’t going to ruin his life with it now.
Almost in the next breath, he wondered if she’d be disappointed that Kristen had beaten him as his ex-wife’s pole top fell to the ground. She whooped and slid down the pole, smacking the bell at the bottom with her hatchet to signal to the judges to stop her time.
Three more hard chops and Gator’s pole top fell. He slid down and smacked the bell himself. Immediately, his gaze found Avery.
His mother had her arm around Avery’s waist. Avery’s smile burned up the distance between them. She clapped with abandon. Her eyes never left his. He found himself grinning at her and shrugging. He should have known she wouldn’t give a flip about winning. For some reason it didn’t really bother him, either. Even the fact that Kristen beat him didn’t matter.
“Getting slow, old man.” Kristen slapped him on the shoulder breaking the spell that had woven itself around Avery and him. He looked away from the pretty blond standing beside his mother, and over at his ex.
“I guess. Congrats to you. McKoy is the only one who might have beaten you.”
Kristen’s hair sparkled with the remnants of the saw dust. “That old lady judge always docks me points for the stupidest things. If it were just a matter of time, I’d be the winner.”
The judges sat with their heads together. It usually took them five or so minutes before they all agreed on points and deductions.
“Maybe.” Gator shrugged. He wasn’t going to win this year, and he supposed he should be more upset, but he just wasn’t.
Bending over he picked up the pieces of cut wood. They’d be used for the bonfire where people would roast hot dogs and marshmallows and socialize until late in the night.
“Gator?”
He straightened, his arms full of wood pieces. “Yeah?”
Kristen put her hands on her hips. “You know I’m in town because I need to talk to you.”
“So you said.” He picked up more wood. Maybe if he ignored her, she’d go away.
“I have a proposition.”
As he recalled, she was the one who had asked him to marry her. In fact, he thought she’d mentioned a proposition that night too. She said they’d be good together. What she’d failed to mention was that marriage and being good together wasn’t a permanent thing for her.
“Not interested.” Gator took a few steps and threw the wood into a pile.
“It’s going to pay you.” Kristen paused, then emphasized the last two words. “Big time.”
He paused, just for a fraction of a second, not long enough for most people to notice, but Kristen could see a weak spot from the next hill over.
Her lips pursed and she smiled knowingly. “I thought money might be more meaningful to you than it used to be.”
“It’s not.” But he thought of his mother and the medical bills. He turned to go for more wood.
She grabbed his bicep. “You haven’t heard what I’m offering.”
Gator glanced over at the judges. They were still huddled behind the table. He pulled away from her grip. “You have two minutes. I’m gonna say no. Then I don’t want to see you or hear about it again.”
“Relax. Your caveman persona doesn’t scare me. Remember? It’s Kristen. Not some little blond bimbo.”
His eyes shot to hers, which were narrowed and calculating.
Her lips curved in a triumphant smile.
He didn’t smile back, but he didn’t say anything either. He couldn’t acknowledge that she’d scored a point. It had been a while, but he hadn’t forgotten how the game was played. Everything was a competition, and Kristen kept score.
She waited a few more seconds as though waiting to see if he would acknowledge her point. After a minute she said, “The big-game hunting preserve that Jace and I bought needs a manager. Someone to supervise the animals, and someone to lead the hunting parties. I want you.”
That had been Kristen’s dream. To have a hunting preserve. Part of the reason she’d married him and said they were so good together. He had the education and the skills to help her get what he wanted. He’d been lacking one thing. Money. Kristen thought he’d sell the house out from under his mother to get it. She’d been mistaken.
“Jace has the money, but not the skills.” It was a statement and Kristen didn’t argue with him. He laughed. “Sucks for you, doesn’t it?”
“Shut up.”
Gator didn’t need to be told twice. It wasn’t like he wanted to be talking to her.
“Don’t you want to know how much I’m offering?”
“No.” He’d never had a taste for trophy hunting. Meat for the table, yes. Bragging rights? It just didn’t interest him. Same as teaming up with Kristen didn’t interest him. If she’d ditch him after saying vows in front of a church, she wasn’t the kind of woman he wanted to do business with. Not that he was bitter about the dissolution of their marriage. It was probably for the best. But he would have stuck it out, just because he gave his word. She was the one that needed the divorce. She couldn’t have Jace’s money while she was married to Gator.
“You forget, Gator, that we were married once.”
He snorted. But he looked her in the eye. “A marriage isn’t something that slips a guy’s mind.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know your mother didn’t have the best insurance. I bet she’s got some pretty big bills to pay.” Kristen tapped him on the arm. “And I know you. You’re not going to let those bills go to collections. You’re worrying yourself to death trying to figure out a way to pay them. Right now. You’re worried. Remember that tough guy exterior doesn’t fool me.”
“It fools me.” Let her chew on that for a while. She’d accused him of being weak plenty of times when he didn’t do what she wanted. Maybe she’d wonder if he actually was faking the whole tough guy thing. He tossed the last of the wood on the pile. He didn’t care what she thought.
Over at the judges’ table, Mrs. Baker had gathered all the papers together and was shuffling through them.
Kristen’s chin jutted out. “You don’t have to get smart.”
“I’m not interested.” Gator made his way over to his mother, nodding at people who complimented him or just said hi, but he didn’t stop to chat. His mother, who had sat back down, was breathing a little hard, and Avery had knelt beside her and spoke softly to her with her hand on her knee. He caught the last part of what she was saying. “I can take you home if you want.”
�
��No. I want to watch you and Gator trim the tree! What’s the point of living if I miss all the fun stuff?”
Avery glanced up at him, her brows drawn together and her lip caught between her teeth.
His eyes caught on that. A swirl of heat tightened his abs before he met her gaze.
Mrs. Baker took the loudspeaker. “Ladies and Gentlemen. We have a decision for the last two contestants and a final standing to report.” The crowd cheered. “Kristen Franks won this round with 342 points.”
“Kristen Pandifino,” Kristen yelled, but no one paid attention.
“Gator Franks had 311 points. That is good enough for third place in the contest.”
The crowd cheered. Someone whistled.
“And of course, the score to beat was McKoy Rodning’s 359. It stands as our winning score, with Kristen Franks in second place. Congratulations to all of our contestants. Let’s give them a nice round of applause.”
After the clapping stopped, Mrs. Baker reminded everyone about the bonfire, like anyone had forgotten, and then announced that the tree trimming competition would start in thirty minutes.
Avery smiled but didn’t say anything, as though waiting to gage his reaction to being beaten by his ex. He looked away without giving her any clue. After all, he could hardly say that out on the course the only thing he could think of was her. That he couldn’t concentrate, and he sure as heck didn’t care about Kristen or whether or not she won.
“Let’s find you a comfortable place to sit, then, before it starts.” Avery put a hand on his mother’s shoulder.
“Gator. You looked great out there.” His mother started to rise, but he scrunched down beside her, his hand on her other knee.
She stroked his head, like she used to do when he was a boy. “You know it doesn’t matter to me whether or not you win.”
“It didn’t matter to me today, either.”
His mother’s eyes narrowed a fraction, and her gaze became thoughtful, but she didn’t say anything.
“It was hard to root against Kristen, because she did sit at the dunking booth for me for a while, but I cheered with your mother.”
He raised a brow and wondered if she knew Gladys had her nose on her shoe. He doubted it. “I could have let you borrow my suit if your loyalty is so easily bought.”
She snorted. “Kristen and I both could fit into yours.”
“Better to have none, then.”
“I thought you didn’t care if she beat you?”
“I don’t. But I wouldn’t want to be stuck in a wet suit with her, either.”
Laughter bubbled up. “I see.”
“Are you ready to move, Mom?” Gator stood up.
She nodded and Gator placed a hand under her elbow and helped her to stand.
Avery slipped an arm around her waist and said, “Jillian said she would set up a chair near our tree and put a reserved sign on it. I haven’t been over to see where it is.”
“I saw the farm sign right in the middle of the line.” There was a double line of about twenty trees. The Sweet Haven Farm sign sat right in the middle. “That must be her chair,” he said. He was grateful it was a low-slung lawn chair with a blanket folded neatly on the seat under the “Reserved” sign.
“Let’s get you tucked in here, Mrs. Franks.” Avery lifted the blanket and the sign and bustled around, getting his mother settled. She reached up to tuck some fly-away strands of hair behind her head.
“I’ve got this,” Gator said. “You go take a few minutes for yourself.”
“I’ll check on Jillian, then. Be right back,” Avery said and hurried off.
Chapter Ten
Avery paid for her hot chocolate and picked up the cup carrier, feeling almost naked without Miss Prissypants, who was in her carrier with Jillian.
Avery had bought a hot chocolate for Gator, as well as for his mother, but she didn’t know if the guy even drank the stuff. Was it unmanly to drink hot chocolate? Belatedly, she remembered that Kristen was going to get coffee. Maybe Gator was a coffee drinker too. She supposed it didn’t matter. If he didn’t like it, he didn’t have to drink it.
People milled about around the trees, lugging boxes and bags of decorations. She said hi to the few she knew, nodded to the ones who nodded to her, and stole surreptitious looks at the decorations they were unpacking. Lots of sparkly, glittery items with plenty of color and lights. Her stomach knotted. It wasn’t what they had planned at all. But Mrs. Franks had given her the decorations, and Ellie had given her suggestions of what to do. She hoped they knew what they were doing.
When she reached the chair where she’d left them, Gator had his mother tucked into the chair, the blanket bundled around her. His coat was around her shoulders, and she wore a beanie hat that Avery hadn’t seen before.
“You look cozy.”
“Gator insisted. He said I looked cold.”
Avery hunched down. “It was your shivering that gave you away.”
“It’s the medicine. It makes me shiver.”
Avery exchanged a look with Gator. If her medicine made her shiver, this was the first she had heard about it.
“I brought you some hot chocolate.” She held out the holder.
Mrs. Franks beamed. “Perfect. Thank you.”
“And one for you.” She lifted it back up and offered it to Gator.
One side of his mouth quirked up. “Good choice.” He tilted the cup and took a sip.
Her heart flipped.
She shook off her reaction and looked around at the supplies. There were two big boxes and one smaller one. Gator had taken the lids off and set them by the tree that had been assigned to them.
He followed her gaze. “There was a bare spot on the tree. I shifted it around so it pointed in.”
“Oh, great. Thanks. I hadn’t even noticed.”
“You would have,” he said with confidence.
“That bad?”
“Yep.”
A voice on the loudspeaker came on, announcing five minutes until the competition started. The speaker ran down the rules, which were basically anything goes on your own tree, but you couldn’t touch anyone else’s tree or have anyone but the two team members touch yours. Thirty-minute time limit. No cutting or altering the branches on the tree.
By the time he was done with the instructions and announcing and thanking the sponsors, it was time to begin.
Avery stood by the yellow caution tape, Gator at her side. She could feel his heat at her side. His size and strength radiated out. Again, she wondered why he’d let Kristen win. It had been obvious to her that Gator had not been trying very hard. Actually, he’d try for a while, then let up, like he needed to slow down to keep her ahead of him.
Maybe Kristen was holding something over his head, but Avery felt like it might be more like Gator had seen Kristen and had remembered what had drawn them together to begin with. So, he’d let her beat him to make her feel good and to make her happy with him. Avery wouldn’t have pegged Gator for that kind of man, but what other explanation was there?
“Competitors take your mark.”
Gator shifted slightly beside her.
“Go.”
He lifted the yellow tape and she stepped under it, reaching in the box and pulling out the wooden Christmas shaped decorations that Mrs. Franks had allowed her to borrow. Gator had made them in high school. They were simple and rustic, decorated with twine and a few red berries.
They went onto the tree with hooks and more twine.
Gator pulled one out.
“You’ll have to tell me where this goes.” He held the decoration up in his hand.
“Okay. That will work.” She’d wondered how she and Gator were going to get along. Whether he’d be throwing things on the tree and she’d come along after him, fixing them. Of if he’d stand and watch her until she asked for help.
“Let’s start at the top. I think she said there were thirty of these.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gator said, not a little sarc
astically.
“Watch it, mister.”
He held the decoration up and she instructed him where to place it, keeping in mind that these were the easier of the two kinds of ornaments that would be on the tree. As he brushed by, she caught a hint of his scent, rough maleness mixed with sharp pine. The calls and conversations around them faded as her awareness of the man beside her rose. The rustle of his plaid shirt, the cords of his neck, the strength of his legs as he bent and stretched. She became fascinated with the gentle way his large hands held the rustic ornaments. Calloused, long, capable, they had been running a chain saw with ease not that long ago. Now they cradled fragile wooden pieces, attaching them to the tree with agility. They said so much about the man, but at the same time made her more curious.
She handed him a cutout and pointed to where she thought it would look best. “So, I assume you work outside, but not trimming trees? You probably shoot a lot of things.”
He laughed, but shook his head while he hung the bulb. “No. I do more watching and observing than shooting.”
“That’s your job? To watch animals?” She had been curious, and she told herself it was a neutral topic. Just because she wasn’t that interested in any other man to try to find out what, exactly, they did at their job, really didn’t factor into anything.
“Not exactly. I do actually do a lot of observing of wildlife. If there seems to be extra skinny deer or a lot of mange, or if animals seem to be dying at a higher than usual rate, or natural or unnatural causes of death. There is also keeping an eye on the flora and fauna, invasive plants, and I do a lot of interacting with people too. Hikers and people who are just interested in learning about our country’s natural resources.”
“You love your job?” It seemed like he didn’t.
He hesitated. “Yes.”
“That pause said a lot.”
“I’m good at carpentry work. More than tearing down old barns.”
She handed him more cutouts. Every second the attraction to him grew and she couldn’t help but feel how homey it was to be decorating a tree with a man. She’d never done it before. Her dad had certainly never helped before he’d run off, and she hadn’t even considered asking Ralph to help her decorate the tiny tree she’d had in her apartment the few Christmases they’d been together.
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