“I’ll pay for half,” Melody said, reaching for her wallet.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it. I’m a nice boyfriend who likes to buy things,” he said.
“No, I’ll pay. You haven’t worked in a year,” she said, cringing as the words came out of her mouth. How insensitive could one person be in a single trip to a Christmas tree lot?
Sam made a tsking sound. She didn’t even dare look up at Finn.
“I’ve got it,” Finn said again as he shoved a few bills at Sam.
“I could use some help around the farm if you’re looking for work, son,” Sam said.
Melody wanted to run and hide in the trees. Maybe this was why she didn’t have friends. Maybe it wasn’t that she wasn’t making them—maybe no one actually wanted to be around her. Did she blurt out the truth all the time? No one actually wanted to hear the truth if it wasn’t good.
Finn’s hard jaw clenched, and she wasn’t sure he was going to answer. Then he cleared his throat. “Thanks for the offer, Sam. I’ll be going back to work soon. I have a job waiting for me. I just needed some time off.”
Sam reached for the tree and threw it over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Melody followed, feeling awful that Finn was now in a position to explain himself. “Well, see you don’t take too much time off. Sometimes it’s hard to get back into things when you’re not used to working every day.”
“I’ve been keeping myself busy,” he said, his profile stony.
Her stomach churned. Of course, he was angry. She’d pointed out his leg in a moment of desperation and then pointed out his lack of employment in front of another man. Melody squinted against the snow blowing in her face and desperately thought of something to say that would take the attention off Finn. “Thanks for getting this tree, Finn. It’s perfect.”
Not good enough. He glanced over at her and didn’t look remotely interested in what she had to say.
“There you go, kids. Remember I’ve got that job opening if you ever need it,” Sam said, slapping Finn on the shoulder.
Finn climbed into the driver’s seat. “Thanks, Sam.”
Melody scrambled into the passenger side, somewhat worried he’d just drive away. Moments later, he was easing the truck onto the snow- and ice-covered roads. Normally, she would just sit and be quiet because she didn’t really know how to apologize. That was another weakness in their house. But as she glanced over at Finn, at the hard lines of his beautiful face, her heart kind of broke, and her insecurities took a backseat to his injured pride. “Sorry,” she said softly, hoping he could hear her above the heat blasting from the vents and the ice tapping against the windshield.
He stared straight ahead at the road. “For what?”
“Well…it sounded like I was saying that you didn’t want to work or that…well, I’m just sorry that I said anything at all.”
There was a long pause. At least a minute ticked by, and Finn didn’t say a thing. “This year knocked me down hard. Sometimes when it feels like I’m just getting my shit together, I’m reminded of everything I’ve lost. Of the guy I used to be. I’m not a guy who just sits around and mooches off family.”
Melody wanted to pitch herself out of the car and into one of the snow-covered ditches. His deep voice sounded tortured and gruff. This was all her fault. It was so much more than pride or ego. She’d inadvertently hit a nerve. But he’d been honest about what he was feeling. And she owed him the same, even if it made her so uncomfortable. She couldn’t have him sitting there thinking that he was any less than the man he was before the accident. More than anything, she wanted to reach across the seat and place her hand on his thigh or his arm, but she didn’t know if he’d welcome her touch now. He was the first person she wanted to be completely honest with, and now she’d ruined this friendship they were building. “Of course you’re not. No one thinks of you like that. You needed to take a year off. You had no choice. I’m sorry, Finn. Sometimes…I don’t know. I say things without thinking or realizing how hurtful it can sound.”
“It’s okay.”
She chewed her bottom lip and looked away from his hard profile. It wasn’t okay. People didn’t just forgive like that. Every time she had screwed up, the ramifications had been deep and harsh. This was why she stayed away from people. She said the wrong things. She disappointed people. She placed her elbow on the window jam and stared at the swirling snow around them, wishing there was something she could say that would make everything go back to the way it was before her dumb comments.
“Hey.” His deep voice was gentle now, and he reached out to grab her hand, sending a ripple of warmth through her. He’d reached out to touch her. She had wanted to do that but couldn’t. “I’m not mad at you. I know you didn’t mean anything by it.”
He glanced over at her quickly before slipping his hand from hers and turning his eyes back to the road. He wasn’t mad. Just like that. It was hard to believe. “Really?”
“Why do you sound so surprised?”
She wanted to make a flippant remark, but his honesty was still ringing in her ears, and she didn’t want to cover up the truth. She wanted to give him what he’d given her. “I’ve…messed up a lot in my life, and forgiveness wasn’t something I was given. And when it was…by Molly…I had a hard time forgiving myself. Or really believing that things could be okay again.”
Her hands were sweaty, and she clasped them together. Telling the truth about herself and highlighting all her faults was not exactly an easy thing to do. Especially when the man sitting beside her was beginning to mean so much to her. “I don’t hold grudges, Mel. Life is too short. People screw up. Everyone does. Don’t make this bigger than it needs to be. Hey, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have had an offer to be Sam’s assistant at the tree lot,” he said, giving her a half smile that filled her with a relief and comfort she’d never really known. She was so used to walking on eggshells, she’d spent a lifetime doing that and had unknowingly applied her mother’s reactions to things to the entire world.
She almost laughed. “Yeah. Sorry about that, too.”
He turned his focus back to the road. “So, what’s the Christmas tree story you started back there when you were trying to distract Sam from my unemployment details?”
“Oh, nothing,” she said, now not wanting to have to get into her childhood stories.
“We’ve got a long, slow drive back thanks to this weather. Also, I think you owe my injured pride a story,” he said, an adorable half smile gracing his face.
She groaned. “It really isn’t much of a story at all. My mom just promised to let me pick a tree one year and then didn’t.”
He frowned. “There are so many holes in that story I don’t even know where to begin. Why don’t you tell me the real story with all the details you’re trying to keep out of it?”
She leaned her head back. “Fine. I had researched Montana tree farms for a project in school and received an A+. So my mother said that I could pick whatever tree I wanted. I wanted the Balsam fir. Then Molly brought home an A+ on a science exam, and she let her pick the tree. It wasn’t Molly’s fault. She didn’t even know what my mother had agreed to. See? Boring story. Nothing big.”
He didn’t say anything for what felt like minutes. “Kind of setting the stage for sibling rivalry?”
She didn’t want to admit she’d fallen for it and that she was horribly jealous of her sister. She had been the petty one in their entire relationship. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Was there a lot of that kind of thing?”
You have no idea.
She stared at the dark road, watching the way the headlights hit the snow blowing. Telling Finn about the way things used to be—the way she used to be—was embarrassing. Worse than embarrassing. The way she’d felt about her sisters filled her with shame. She had been so much like her mother, and no one liked her mother. He would
never understand because he had come from the perfect family and his brother was his best friend. There were so many memories that she barely let herself think about because the moment she did, heat would flood her body and she’d feel like running away…from all of them.
Moving back to Shadow Creek had been the best thing for her relationship with her sisters. Secrets had been revealed, and old wounds had been healed. But it also meant facing her past and her mistakes daily. When she didn’t live near family, it was easy to just focus on her patients, on her career, and compartmentalize. She hadn’t counted on the daily feelings of regret she had. She didn’t want to be that insecure and petty girl she used to be, but she was forced to remember her every day in Shadow Creek.
She glanced over at Finn, knowing she owed him some kind of reply. “There was. I mean, it wasn’t healthy. I’m not like that anymore,” she said, cringing because her voice sounded desperate, like she was trying to defend herself when he hadn’t accused her of anything.
“Of course not. Everyone has stuff in their past they aren’t proud of. I guess the goal is to recognize that and actually do something about it. There are people who go through life repeating the same mistakes over and over again and never even try to change. You and your sisters look pretty close now.”
She let his words sink in for several long moments. He had assumed the best in her. Finn saw her as more and believed that she had changed; he’d taken her word for it. Even though he knew firsthand just how far she had been willing to go to compete with Molly. Far enough to ask him to the prom.
She quickly tossed that thought aside because it was too embarrassing. “We’re close because Molly is forgiving,” she blurted out before she could stop herself. Or maybe she wanted to tell him. Maybe a part of her wanted his honest opinion. Then this…whatever it was she was feeling between them would be over, because he would see her for the person she really was.
He pulled into the snow-filled driveway and parked before turning to her. “Why do you always do that? You never give yourself credit for anything.”
She swallowed hard, her heart racing in her chest, pounding, as she stared into his blue eyes. The words she’d held onto for so long refused to come out.
Finn reached out and placed his hand over hers, and tears stung her eyes, because the gesture reminded her of when she’d done the same to him. She couldn’t back down now.
“It’s okay, Mel,” he said, in a voice that was tender and gruff and made her feel the safest she’d ever felt in her life.
“I’m the reason Molly and Ben broke up and the reason she stayed away from Shadow Creek for so long,” she choked out. “I’m the reason she left Shadow Creek for so many years. If I hadn’t been such a jealous brat, she would have been able to confide in me. She had no one at home.”
He frowned. “What are you talking about?”
The sound of Molly’s voice, telling her she needed space and to concentrate on school, played over her mind as it had so many nights. She should have known Molly would never shut them out without a reason. She should have listened harder, beneath the words, to the pain her sister was hiding. She nodded rapidly, trying to pull her hand from his, but he held on. “If I hadn’t been so jealous of her all the time, she would have called me. Addie was too young, but Molly would have called me if I hadn’t been so nasty to her. She would have confided in me, and I would have rushed over to her dorm room, and I would have hugged her and told her none of it was her fault. I would have called the police. And I would have called Ben. He would have helped her. She wouldn’t have had to deliver that baby girl without any of us knowing. I would have been there for her. I could have helped her. But instead, I believed everything our mom told us—that Molly was concentrating on school and her career and didn’t have time for distractions. I believed all of it. And a part of me was happy that I was finally the apple of my mother’s eye,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut, so angry with herself, refusing to shed a tear for the terrible sister she’d been.
Finn swore softly and then leaned across and pulled her into him. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, drinking in his fresh scent, his strength. “You couldn’t have known. Ben didn’t find out until Molly came home and told him. You were played by your mom.”
She shook her head against him. “But I should have—”
“No. It’s not your fault, Mel. It’s not. You have to let this go. No one blames you for any of it. You have to stop.”
His words impacted more than she thought they ever would be able to. But she heard the tenderness, the sincerity in his deep voice. She felt his strength and support as he held her close to him. And the strange feeling of relief swept over her. She had told someone. Finn. And he hadn’t questioned her. He’d believed her. He’d sounded angry…for her. He told her it wasn’t her fault.
His lips brushed against her head, and a shiver ran through her. She pulled back, awkwardly, raising her eyes to his. What she saw there made her breath catch. He was staring at her like no man had. Like no one had ever stared at her before. He was staring at her like he knew her. Knew who she was, deep inside.
And that terrified her.
“We should go inside, before all the food goes bad.” She hopped out of the truck, the cold blast of wind and snow hitting her overheated face. Something was happening to her. Something that felt amazing and yet was nothing she could allow herself to feel.
It felt a lot like falling for her fake boyfriend.
Chapter Seven
“How about I cook dinner and you decorate the tree?” Finn suggested, putting the last of the groceries in the fridge. The tree was already positioned in the stand and was tucked nicely in the corner where the fireplace wall was. He had to admit it already looked good without an ornament on it. It filled up the space and was tall, but the peaked ceilings accommodated it perfectly.
Melody was the other thing who fit perfectly in here. He had come to this cabin to get away from everyone and their expectations and their opinions. He hadn’t missed company—even though he enjoyed and appreciated Ben and Molly and his mother’s visits, he’d been content in solitude. When Melody had first shown up, he’d immediately felt trapped, and at first, he’d been on guard, careful to not let any of his true feelings out. But in just a few short days, he found himself looking forward to seeing her in the morning. In fact, he went to bed at night with an anticipation of their breakfast chat or arguing over exercise equipment. Their day in town together had been the best he’d had in a long time. He felt like he was finally getting to know the real her…and he liked what he saw.
Melody projected that she had it all together, but when she had finally opened up a little, she damn well near broke his heart. He knew a lot of what had happened to Molly but from Ben’s perspective. He would never have assumed that Melody blamed herself for not being there for her sister and that she could have eased her pain enough to change the course of events that unfolded.
The more Melody revealed about herself, the more he felt connected to her and the more he found himself drawn to her. She was hard on herself, and he identified with that, even if it was painful to witness.
More than anything, he wanted to be able to help her forgive herself and move on. What had happened in Molly’s life had been brutally unfair and tragic. Melody taking any part of that blame wouldn’t get her anywhere. Ben still blamed himself for letting Molly walk away from him so many years ago and not pushing for answers at the time. He knew all of them were coming from a place of love because they all hated what had happened to Molly.
“What are you cooking?” she asked, pulling him from his thoughts. She was currently standing in front of the tree with the box of ornaments.
“How about a stir-fry?” He pulled out some vegetables.
She turned around slowly. “Like, with real vegetables, not in their powdered form?”
He straightened his shoulders
. “Obviously.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Is it?”
He tried not to smile as he pulled out the broccoli—broccoli had never made him smile, but Melody did. He washed and chopped vegetables while she added ornaments to the tree. “Should we put Christmas music on or something?” It was too quiet, and he found himself wanting to know more, to fill the silence with questions, but he didn’t want to push.
She nodded. “Probably a good idea. And, bonus, we’ll have something lined up for when everyone gets here tomorrow.”
“Agreed.” He flipped through the pre-set stations until Mariah Carey’s voice filled the open space with her declaration of what she wanted for Christmas. He rolled his shoulders and glanced out the window. The snow hadn’t let up at all. In fact, it looked as though there was more snow than sky, and the wind rattled the windows every now and then.
“I’m going to grab a sweater,” Melody said, folding her arms across her chest as she stepped back from the tree.
“Are you cold? I could light a fire.” He wiped his hands all over Santa’s cheerful face on the dishtowel and tossed it onto the counter.
Melody’s face lit up, and she gave him a smile that almost had him tripping over his feet. “That would be great!”
Warmth flushed his chest. That odd feeling of contentment, of his life feeling right, flittered through him. Because of her joy. He made his way over to the stack of logs by the fireplace, making a mental note to get some more from the porch later, and lit the fire, humming along to the Christmas music. He gripped the edge of the fireplace ledge to stand, grimacing slightly as he stood. But even his leg didn’t feel as bad. “There, that’ll warm up the place pretty quick,” he said.
Melody glanced over at him and smiled. “Thanks.”
“Tree is looking good,” he said, joining her.
She handed him a few snowman ornaments. “Want to hang those near the top?”
“Sure,” he said, taking them from her. That spark that he felt every time his body made contact with hers ran through him, and he was very aware of how close they were standing. He remembered how soft her hair had felt against his lips, how perfect she had felt in his arms.
Snowed in with the Firefighter (Shadow Creek, Montana) Page 8