Merry and Bright(39)

Lori watched her go, and Ben watched Lori. “I know that look,” he said. “It says you have a plan. An evil plan.”

“Not evil. Not exactly.”

“We’re on Hope’s side, Lori,” he said gently.

“Of course we are. Which is why we’re going to help her.”

“By doing as she asked.”

“By doing the opposite,” she corrected. “You know, the old double switcheroo.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“We’re going to pretend to do as she asked, while doing the opposite.”

“Let me repeat myself. Huh?”

She patted her husband on his big, beefy shoulder. “Trust me, honey. There are some wild sparks between those two.”

“Yes. It’s called temper.”

“No, it’s sexual tension. They’re attracted. And more than that, he’s a good guy in a shitty situation. Same with her.”

“Doesn’t mean they should hook up.”

“She hasn’t had sex in a year.”

“Can’t imagine going more than one day . . .”

She laughed. “I’ve spoiled you. Listen, all we’re going to do is play Santa and give Hope a man, even if it’s a temporary one.”

“Lori.”

“Trust me.”

He laughed softly and pulled her close. “Now that’s the one thing I can promise you.” He pressed his jaw to hers. “For now and always.”

“For now and always,” she said on a sweet sigh. “That still makes my knees weak, you know that? You make my knees weak. That’s all I want for Hope, Ben.”

“Weak knees?”

She slid her hand up his chest and smiled. “We can pull it off. She’ll thank us.”

“If you say so. But if you could pull it off with your job still intact, that would be great.”





After an hour of chopping wood, Hope turned and eyed the wood pile she’d made. It was shrinking instead of growing. Then she looked at the deep grooves from the wood pile to the side of the building. Someone had been doing the stacking for her without saying a word. Since that was extremely unlike Ben, and extremely unlike Lori—both of whom would do any chore needed at any time, but with their mouths working overtime—she set down her ax and leaned on the handle.

And waited.

Sure enough, within a minute, a hooded figure came from around the back of the house where the stack of wood was, brushing off his gloved hands. He was as tall as Ben, but leaner.

And wearing glasses.

She watched Danny walk toward the stack of wood without even looking at her. Back and forth he went, working with a steadiness that told her maybe he wasn’t quite the desk nerd she’d convinced herself.

And since that gave her a funny little tingle in places she’d nearly forgotten she possessed, she turned to head back inside. She appreciated the help, but that didn’t change the fact that he was here to assess whether she was going to be able to pay back her loan. No way around it, Danny was going to cause her trouble.

And heartache.

Because dammit, she loved this place. Loved it like it was her family, which was ridiculous. It was just a place. But it was hers.

The back door was locked, which was odd. Cupping her hands, she peered into the window of the kitchen. No one there. She pounded on the door, but Lori didn’t appear and neither did Ben.

Which meant that they’d found themselves a closet or God knew where and were acting like bunnies again.

Terrific.

She could wade through the snow around to the other side of the building and let herself in the front door, but they hadn’t cleared the snow from the side yards, and without snow shoes she’d sink up to her thighs. Not fun. Instead, she whipped out her cell phone and texted Lori.





Let me in pls.





Lori immediately texted back:





Sorry. On a supply run.





“Bullshit,” Hope muttered and shoved her phone back in her pocket. No one was on a supply run, the roads were complete muck. Nope, her chef and her fix-it guy were definitely going at it.

Again.





It should have irritated the hell out of her, but instead she found herself sighing. She was happy for them, very happy, but something deep inside her wished . . . what? That she had that same thing? She’d never been one to daydream about the white wedding, white picket fence, and kid-friendly SUV.

And yet . . . She turned and leaned against the door. As far as the eye could see was nothing but a white blanket of snow and gorgeous tall pines masquerading as three-hundred-foot-tall ghosts swaying in the light breeze.

And one hardworking guy stacking wood.

Okay, so a small part of her suddenly wanted the dream, she admitted to herself as Danny dropped his last load on the stack against the house.

He took a moment to eye the job he’d just finished, then came toward her, stride determined, expression inscrutable, forcibly reminding her that the guy was capable of melting her bones.

Oh, and that he could kiss.

That thought snaked in unwelcome, and stuck. Lori had been correct, he was a face holder, and in possession of a very talented tongue, and— And she wanted him. God, so much. She straightened a bit, her belly quivering in tune to her knees. His expression didn’t soften as he came toward her, but it did heat. He was going to kiss her again, and in spite of herself, her eyes drifted shut in anticipation.