Their White-Hot Christmas
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Jules Bennett
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One
“Come on, you big ugly thing.”
Kira Lee grunted and tugged at the obscenely hideous tree she’d just purchased from the cutest Christmas Tree Farm here in Willowvale Springs. Unfortunately, this close to the holiday, the pickings were slim. But she’d bought enough garland and ornaments to tuck into the holes of this pathetic excuse of a tree, and she was only using it in her tiny rental for a few weeks.
The workers at the farm loaded it on top of her small SUV, and she didn’t take into account her height, or lack thereof, or how to get this beast inside the cabin.
“Who’s winning the fight?”
A masculine voice startled her, and she couldn’t see the other side of her car for all the evergreen blocking the view.
“I’m going to win,” she insisted with another hard pull. “You could be a gentleman and help.”
Normally she’d have better manners, but the frigid Wyoming air made her rush to get inside by her cozy, crackling fire. The altitude was a bit different here than Portland.
“I never said I was a gentleman,” the faceless man scoffed.
Wow. She’d only been in town less than a day for her forced vacation from her bestie and she was already agitated. But this situation was her own fault. She’d wanted her bland cabin to be a little spruced up for the holidays. She couldn’t believe the owners of this dude ranch didn’t go all out with festive decor.
Kira gave another jerk of the burlap sack between the tree and the top of her car. She tumbled backward when the bundle shifted. Finally. She might actually make it inside before dark.
“Let me get that before you hurt yourself.”
The voice drew closer and Kira glanced over to see the hunkiest cowboy she’d encountered since she’d gotten to town. Okay, maybe he was a little short on the sweet side, but he more than made up for it with his looks. Tanned skin, black hat, black wool coat, dark jeans, and boots? He probably had a black, menacing horse somewhere close by and a gaggle of women just swooning at his feet.
Well, all she wanted was help with her tree. Nothing else. But she wasn’t opposed to taking in the view for the time being.
With a strength she didn’t expect, the guy hoisted the tree off her vehicle and over his shoulder, then motioned toward her cabin.
“Can you at least get the door?” he grumbled.
Kira offered her sweetest smile, then turned on her heel to head up the steps to her door. “Someone is in a festive mood.”
She punched in the code and opened the door wide for him to enter ahead of her. Once he maneuvered the tree through the opening and managed to dodge the steps, he turned toward the open living/kitchen combo.
“Where’s the bucket?” he asked.
Kira stilled. “Bucket?”
“To put the tree in.”
He swung around to face her, giving her the first good look at his chiseled face. If the man actually smiled, he might be considered lethal. Those dark eyes resting beneath thick, black brows could mesmerize a woman into forgetting her own name.
“You do have something to put this in, right?” he added.
Oops.
“Didn’t think that far ahead, but I did get some gorgeous decorations,” she snickered, but she seemed to be the only one to find that amusing.
The stranger walked toward the fireplace and carefully laid the wrapped tree on the rug. When he stood, her eyes traveled up to take in his impressive height.
“You didn’t plan this out very well, did you?” he asked.
Before she could answer, he muttered something about being right back. He marched out the door, leaving it open for the cold air to rush in.
Kira glanced out and watched as he drove off in his ominous black truck... But of course, what else would he have?
She closed the door, pushing out the wintry wind. When she turned to the sad tree lying on her floor, she felt like joining it. She was positive there were some similarities between her and this half-dead tree.
Kira tried to concentrate on this adorable getaway her bestie had set up for her instead of the disaster her life had become through no fault of her own. Between the immediate loss of her condo and her mother planning her fourth—yes, fourth—wedding and the burnout from her demanding career, she needed a break.
Kira had always had a mundane, boring life. She’d been perfectly fine with that. Structure and planning down to the final detail worked just fine for her. So all of this upheaval had nearly caused a panic attack and total meltdown. Thankfully, Delia recognized Kira’s state of mind and found this quaint dude ranch in Wyoming, far away from the issues back in Oregon.
Maybe the tree she’d found was hideous, but something about it made her smile. Maybe just because something was damaged didn’t mean it had to be destroyed...much like her life. She could rebuild and shift her focus, just as soon as she allowed herself the time to decompress and stop worrying about everyone else’s problems—her clients, her mother, her landlord. She had to switch the attention to herself for once—or so Delilah said.
No doubt her bestie would have been all over that sexy, brooding cowboy, but Kira wasn’t here for antics or flings. She had to figure out what to do with her life, namely where to live and how to get a hold of this career burnout that was a very real problem.
She didn’t think Mr. Tall Dark and Grouchy would be any help.
Paxton Hart didn’t have time to set up the saddest excuse for a Christmas tree he’d ever seen. Hell, he didn’t even want to be on this dude ranch.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t go anywhere for the time being. For reasons that he still didn’t understand, Hank Carson thought it would be a good idea to leave his ranches, farms, house, and resorts to a group of guys who had worked for him over the summers years ago. Pax hadn’t seen ole Hank in over a decade, but apparently Pax had left an impression on the farmer’s life.
Mason, Kahlil, and Vaughn all inherited Hank Carson’s properties over the past six months along with Pax. The other guys came back with every intention of selling and leaving, getting back to their busy lives, but fate had other plans. Each of them had worked for Hank as teens and each of them had vowed to achieve bigger and better things. They’d become successful in their own fields with lucrative, fulfilling careers, yet now they were all back. Pax had assisted his old pals in trying to sell their properties, but for one reason or another, the men had opted to stay and hold on to their inheritance.
The main reason, though, was that they had all fallen in love and planned to settle now in Willowvale. The three guys were either engaged or married, which scared the hell out of Pax. He didn’t come back to town to fall in love or whatever those guys thought they felt. Pax had a full schedule and a checklist of career goals—namely that new start-up real estate agency in Spain. Spending time in Willowvale Springs didn’t make the cut on any of his lists.
By the time Pax grabbed a good-sized bucket from the closest barn, he still hadn’t shaken the fact that the new guest in one of the rental cabins was one of the most adorably petite women he’d ever laid eyes on. He wasn’t sure if he was agitated that he had to take time out of his schedule to prop up an ugly-ass tree, or if he was annoyed at how she’d affected him.
Both. Definitely both.
He followed the old familiar path back to the row of cabins. This dude ranch used to thrive with visitors from all over the country and even some international guests. Now, well, according to the recent records, the average was about half the capacity. He supposed that was a good thing, considering he had no clue how to run a dude ranch and a good bit of the staff had left. The manager stayed on after Hank passed, but mainly because he had nowhere else to go and he’d just started a few months prior to Hank’s death.
Pax might have worked here over several summers back in his teen years, but what did he know about running a dude ranch? His life revolved around buying and selling real estate. He’d already dominated the US market, and now, fingers crossed, he’d be opening his new location in Spain in the next few months.
Which was why he didn’t have time for this dude ranch or the sexy tenant in Cabin Five.
He pulled to a stop just behind her small SUV. With bucket in hand, he stomped up the steps to knock the snow off his boots. Pax tapped his knuckles on the door, even though he’d told her he’d be right back. He still respected her privacy, and they were strangers.
The sturdy wooden door swung wide and another punch of lust to his gut caught him off guard. The petite woman with her adorable high ponytail, fitted red sweater, and body-hugging jeans shouldn’t be getting to him. Had to be all this frigid air making him lose his mind and all common sense.
“Where do you want it?” he asked, hoping to make this quick and painless.
She glanced around the room and pointed to the corner near the fireplace.
“That’s perfect.”
Pax stepped over the half-dead tree and set the bucket in the empty spot. When he turned, he nearly ran into her. She startled and took a step back.
“Sorry.” She offered a smile and wrinkled her nose. “Do you think it will look good there?”
Pax resisted the urge to just flee. He didn’t care where she put the tree because this wasn’t his cabin and likely when he went to move it, the needles would fall off.
“If that’s what you want,” he replied.
She seemed to think for a minute, which was about fifty seconds longer than his patience allowed. He thrived on efficiency. Wasted time did nothing but stall progress. No matter what the situation might be.
Finally, she nodded.
“Yeah, let’s do there. It will look great with a crackling fire and a stocking.”
“You are aware Christmas is in just a few days, right?”
A smile spread across her face as her gaze shifted back to his. “Which is why we need to get this tree up.”
She started to bend down, but straightened. “Wait. I don’t even know your name.”
“Does it matter, when all you need is my help to put the tree in the bucket?” he countered.
“Scrooge it is.” She held out her hand for him to shake. “I’m Kira.”
He eyed her, then the extended hand, and there was no way he was touching her. His stomach had balled up in knots just from looking—who knew how he’d react with a simple touch. No attachments of any kind. He’d vowed that to himself long ago.
“I have more things to get,” he told her, easing around her to head back out to his truck.
He picked up the pace, gathering the bag of sand and getting back inside. He didn’t want to be here a minute longer than necessary. For one thing, he had an online meeting in an hour that he couldn’t miss, regarding this new development in Barcelona, and for another, well...he just couldn’t be here with Kira.
Even her name sounded adorable. Everything about her seemed adorable, from her girl-next-door hairstyle to her petite frame to her bubbly personality. Adorable wasn’t his typical type. He preferred someone almost high-maintenance, more glam, over-the-top, because that way he wouldn’t get attached and he could walk away easily.
But this trifecta before had him focusing on setting the tree as straight as possible in the bucket with sand, and now she’d already gotten under his skin.
“Hold that steady,” he told her as he continued to shift the sand around and adjust the trunk.
“Doesn’t this need water, too?” she asked from above him.
“It needs dumped somewhere and put out of its misery,” he muttered.
Once he figured the thing was as good as it was going to get, he eased back out from beneath the tree. He’d come back home to Willowvale Springs to figure out the best way to sell this unwanted, inherited property, not frolic and help the guests.
“Wait until you see it decorated,” Kira stated, smiling up at the tree like she could already see the image in her mind.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
She glanced over to him, and her dark brows drew in. “You have something better to do than decorate a Christmas tree? I bet you don’t even have one up.”
“You’d win that bet.”
“Are you always so surly?” she asked, propping her hands on her hips.
“Are you always this chatty with a stranger?” he countered.
Kira shrugged. “Occupational hazard.”
Don’t ask. Don’t ask.
“And what is it you do?”
Clearly he didn’t take his own advice, but seriously, what career did someone have that could make them so...perky.
“You’re a wedding coordinator,” he guessed.
Kira laughed and rolled her eyes. That laugh warmed something inside him—something he hadn’t even known had chilled. This whole situation was utterly ridiculous.
“Not hardly,” she replied. “I’m a Life Coach.”
Pax snorted and waited on her to laugh, but she continued to stare.
“Oh, you’re serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she volleyed back.
She reached up and grabbed her hair in two spots, gave a pull, and tightened her ponytail. He knew that maneuver. It was like some battle-ready move women did when someone pissed them off. Clearly he was that someone.
“What exactly do you do?” he asked, not sure why he insisted on staying when he had a call and literally anything else he should and could be doing.
“At the moment, trying to figure out why you won’t give me your name, you seem to get angry over Christmas trees, and how I can fix you.”
Offended, Pax crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance. “Fix me?” he repeated. “What do you believe needs fixed?”
“Your attitude for one thing, though you did help me with the tree, so thank you.”
She moved over to a stash of bags she’d set on the sofa and started pulling out garland, boxes of lights, and ornaments. Pax wondered when the items would stop coming out of bags and where the hell she thought she could put all of that when the branches were so sparse.
“Did your wife put up a tree at your house?” she asked, still sorting through her things.
“You dodged my question, and that wasn’t a subtle way of asking if I’m single.”
She tossed a saucy grin over her shoulder. “I’m not answering your question and I don’t care if you’re single. I assume there’s no way you’d put up a tree on your own so I’m assuming if there’s one in your home, then your wife did it.”
“I’m not married and I don’t have a tree.”
She pursed her lips and turned with a box of lights in hand. “You live here on the ranch?”
“Something like that,” he muttered.
Passing through didn’t count as living, but considering he was staying in the main guesthouse, he’d just keep his response vague. He wasn’t here to make friends, just to sell off this dude ranch and turn over a nice profit. He’d moved on from this small town long ago and looking back had never been on his to-do list.
“I’m going to guess you’re into something depressing and stuffy like accounting. Is that why you’re angry? Because if I had to do math all day, I’d be a grouch, too.”
Where did this chatty woman come from?
“Are you here alone?” he asked.
The words slipped out before he could stop himself.
“Forced vacation,” she told him with a half grin. “My best friend booked this for me after some...we’ll call them issues back home.”
Issues? He sure as hell didn’t want anyone’s issues to deal with, not when he had more than enough of his own.
His cell vibrated in his pocket, pulling him from the moment. Pax reached in and cringed. He’d been standing here talking so long and this was the call he’d been waiting on.
“I have to take this. Enjoy the decorating.”
He started for the door, sliding his finger across the screen to answer at the same time.
“Let me know when you need help with yours,” she called after him.
Pax cursed himself for finding her amusing, but even more so for letting her distract him from one of the most important calls of his career. Damn it. He needed to be back in his office in a professional setting with his notes and his laptop.
He answered the call and drove away from Cabin Five, making a mental note to let the property manager deal with any more of Kira’s needs.
