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December 1st
IT WAS STILL DARK OUT, but as Blair Hawthorne brought her car to a stop, she knew she needed to get a jumpstart on decorating the store. The sun would be up eventually, which meant customers would start stopping by. They’d expect Golden Age Antiques to be festive for the holiday season. Antique festive... with vintage decorations that suited the shop.
Should have decorated earlier, she groused to herself as she unbuckled her seatbelt and scrambled out of the car. But it wasn’t like she had much of a choice. Between wanting to keep up the fall decorations for Thanksgiving, and her family pressuring her on all sides, Blair had made a tradition of putting up Christmas ornaments on December first and not a day earlier. If she was being honest, her parents and her three brothers had been the main reason she’d dug her heels in all these years.
Unfortunately, she was beginning to regret sticking to her guns because she was currently up way earlier than usual and now that she was popping the trunk open, the heap of cardboard boxes seemed extra daunting. Yawning loudly, Blair rubbed the sleep from her eyes then stretched her arms over her head to prep for the annual hauling of Christmas décor. She grabbed the biggest box, deciding to get one of the tougher tasks out of the way first. She’d deal with the absolute toughest task—getting the Christmas tree that was tied to the top of her car—once all the boxes were inside the store.
A gust of wind blew in, the blast so cold that she felt the sting of it on her exposed skin. Mostly her cheeks and forehead. Quickly, she pulled her cap down lower, wishing she’d worn some kind of protective eyewear. Blinking the stinging tears away, she waited for the wind to die down and then retrieved the largest of the boxes. When she was satisfied that she had a good grip on the box, Blair began to carefully round the car, then stepped onto the sidewalk.
The dreadful chill in the air remained, and she exhaled puffs of condensation as she tried to catch her breath on the labored walk up to the storefront. Balancing the heavy box in her arms was even more strenuous than she remembered. Why did she always seem to forget how difficult it was to decorate the store? This was going to be her fifth year decorating and yet, she’d forgotten what a pain in the neck this could be. Literally and figuratively. Thankfully, it hadn’t rained or snowed lately so the ground was at least dry enough for her to walk on without slipping.
Once she got to the front door, she struggled to balance the box using one hand, while she fumbled for her keys with the other. The moment she got the door open, Blair pushed her way inside to escape the worst of the cold. She breathed a sigh of relief as she set the box down on the front counter.
Her workday hadn’t even started, yet she was already weary from the cold and spending the past half hour searching for the right fir at the local Christmas tree farm. Blair felt a pang of guilt over the rush of negative feelings. The farm had done her a favor letting her in early so she ought to be grateful. Still, she couldn’t help feeling like she was under siege.
It wasn’t that she hated decorating. Far from it, in fact. After all, Blair loved any excuse to display antiques, even the ones that weren’t for sale. Especially the lovely glass ornaments she had wrapped with newspaper and painstakingly arranged into boxes. Decorating was a tradition she truly enjoyed once she got going.
What she didn’t enjoy was decorating all by herself due to the pressure from friends and family. They were the reason she put off decorating for as long as possible and also the reason why she insisted on decorating the store all alone. Because when she did the decorating on her terms, they didn’t get the chance to pressure her about her dating life or push her into marriage. Husband hunting seemed to be the only topic anybody wanted to discuss and her family was even more obsessed with the topic this time of year. And it was getting worse as she approached thirty. Blair was twenty-nine now, hardly over-the-hill, but old enough for her family to point out that she was the only one of her siblings who was still single. All of her brothers were either in long-term relationships or happily married. Plus, both of her divorced parents were dating. Mom was traveling the world with her new beau and her father had a steady girlfriend. Blair was the odd one out.
To make matters worse, most of her family still lived right here in Mislin Bush. The town that seemed hellbent on cultivating Christmas romances. Because her hometown had a reputation for encouraging holiday love. Not only was Mislin Bush the name of the town, it was also another name for mistletoe. And locals hung mistletoe everywhere. Indoors, outdoors, above doorframes, in their cars, on top of Christmas trees. Some men would even pin sprigs of mistletoe onto their lapels. There was no escaping the shrub nor the giddy expectations to kiss when people found themselves under it. Not to mention the tradition that stated that the couples that kissed beneath the mistletoe would end up in long-term relationships, or more drastically... married.
The silly tradition meant that for the locals of Mislin Bush, Christmas was the season the entire town prepared for year-round. Everyone spent the year pushing singles towards a holiday romance, townspeople waiting with bated breath the moment Thanksgiving ended—each of them desperate to discover who was destined to fall in love, get engaged, get married, or have children thanks to the mistletoe. Blair was certain everyone meant well, but it often felt like the whole town was desperately trying to marry her off. Her family wouldn’t let up, and if she didn’t stand firm, they’d push into her shop to hang mistletoe everywhere.
That was why she was scurrying around in the dark with Christmas decorations. Not only did she have to dig her heels in every year, she also had to sneak around in case being firm with her family wasn’t enough. Blair sighed in frustration. All this to avoid their attempts at husband hunting on her behalf.
I don’t need a husband, thank you very much, she wanted to shout, but instead she grumbled under her breath and started to move through the store. First, she turned on some more lights, then she made sure the central heating was the right temperature. Things couldn’t be too hot or too cold inside because they needed to preserve the antiques housed in the store, the wooden furniture in particular. Satisfied with the lighting and the temperature in the shop, she headed back out to begin retrieving the rest of the boxes from her trunk, including the box that contained all the tools she’d need to set up the tree.
As she went back and forth to set the boxes down on the front counter, Blair tried to get her mind to focus solely on work. Her shop was one of the things she was most proud of, after all, even though it was struggling at the moment. The antiques in the shop were well preserved but they weren’t the coveted treasures that the bigger auction houses managed to get for their inventory. Blair’s collectibles were closer to family heirlooms than the antiques that fetched jaw-dropping prices. Still, she was proud of her accomplishment. The only time in her life she had ever left Mislin Bush was to get a degree so she could set up her own business in her hometown. Young people often left small towns for greener pastures, taking their skills and energy away to big cities, but she refused to do that. Blair loved her town too much, despite its infuriating quirks. Like the blasted mistletoe everywhere.
Great, now she was thinking about her family pressuring her again. And the pressure had only grown worse because her shop wasn’t doing as well as she wanted. Which meant that she wasn’t nearly as independent as she wished she could be, sometimes leaning on her family for support during the lean months. That was why they continued badgering her about dating. They were scared she couldn’t stand on her own two feet all the time so they believed she needed a man. Nothing could be further from the truth. Blair was going to make her store a success story. Still, Golden Age Antiques should have taken off in the past five years, shouldn’t it?
Heaving out another frustrated sigh, she set the last box on the counter, then walked back out of the shop. Time to take the tree down from the roof of her car so she could set it up inside. This was going to be the hardest part. She really should have asked for help with this, but she absolutely did not want to chance her family hanging mistletoe in the shop. The last thing she needed in her life was a man anyway. Blair was fine with her quest to be a fully independent businesswoman. There had been a couple of heartbreaks in her life starting with her parents’ divorce and ending with her engagement to her college sweetheart blowing up in her face five years ago. She didn’t want a repeat of any of that and her misadventures in dating since then weren’t worth the potential heartache. Work made her happy and she wasn’t going to be distracted by engaging in another relationship that was doomed to fail.
As she marched over to her car, another gust of wind picked up, this one colder than the last. Shivering, she forced herself to ignore the chill and she reached up to grab onto the harness lashing the tree to the roof of her car. The tips of her fingers were starting to feel numb from the cold despite her gloves. Ugh. This was going to be a chore and a half. She had a good mind to just give up and head back inside without the tree, customers be damned.
But then, she noticed a flash of movement on the other side of her car. A man was approaching. He was so tall that he towered over the car and the tree. Blair frowned. Who was this guy? She didn’t think she’d ever seen him before which meant he was probably a tourist.
“Ma’am, you okay?” the guy asked, breathing heavily.
She tensed. Mislin Bush was a safe place but a stranger appearing out of nowhere breathing like the hounds of hell were after him definitely gave her pause. “Um, yes. I’m fine. Thank you.”
“You sure? Because you look like you could use some assistance,” he said, motioning to the tree between them. “If it’s no trouble I’d be happy to help.”
Blair paused at the sound of his deep, rich baritone. Being the type to guard her independence, Blair wasn’t used to accepting help. Certainly not from strangers. But when she opened her mouth to respond, it was then she realized that the newcomer was handsome.
Incredibly handsome.
And she was staring.
A handsome face is no reason to accept an offer, she scolded herself. Blair really ought to send the man on his way. But he was so arresting that she was momentarily at a loss for words. Even in the unnatural glow of the streetlights she could tell that he was painfully gorgeous. Not only was he tall, he possessed a strong, square jaw and a sensuous mouth that made her forget what she’d been thinking. Plus, there were those wavy locks that curled over his forehead, the black crest of hair offsetting brilliant green eyes.
And right now, those breathtaking eyes of his were staring right at the tree. “This definitely looks like a two-man job.” He tugged at the rope, scrutinizing the fir tree as if he was already thinking of ways to take it down. Clearly this guy had forgotten she was even there.
Irritated, Blair tapped her foot on the sidewalk. “Well, I’m not a man, so...”
“Figure of speech.” He waved her off dismissively then cracked his knuckles. “How about you untie while I grab onto the trunk?”
Blair frowned. She hadn’t actually accepted his help. And she really had no reason to accept. After all these years setting up the tree in the store by herself, she was capable of doing it again. Besides, for all she knew, this guy, whoever he was, had showed up with plans for something nefarious. Not that she could imagine a dastardly plan that involved a Christmas tree, but still. The stranger seemed way too eager to lend a hand for what was going to end up being strenuous, thankless work.
“If you help me untie the tree, I can manage the rest on my own,” she said.
The man, who looked like he was in his late twenties or early thirties, dismissed her again, this time with an arrogant shake of his head. “No, you can’t.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s cold so you’re going to need another pair of hands,” he said. “Plus you’re tiny. I bet the tree is taller than you are. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”
Blair narrowed her eyes. This guy was a piece of work. Arrogant and rude to boot. She was not that short. “I don’t really remember asking you for—”
“Untie the ropes,” he ordered, cutting her off as he moved to grip the tree trunk.
Bristling, she shook some of the numbness from her hands and began to grudgingly do as instructed. The stranger was lucky it was cold out. Otherwise, she would have told him to get lost. Blair was independent. She didn’t need a man’s unsolicited help. The weather was the only reason she was giving in to this. His heart-stopping green eyes and take charge manner had nothing to do with it.
“Okay, they’re untied,” she said when she was done.
“Take the other end,” he said, clenching his jaw as he started to maneuver the tree.
Again, she followed his instructions, biting her tongue so she didn’t unload on him. Just because he’d been acting like a jerk didn’t mean she had to forget her manners. She’d keep her thoughts to herself.
Together, they managed to get the tree down from the car roof, each of them holding onto one end of the tree. Though she hated to admit that the tree was pretty heavy, it was also wrapped in netting, which made hoisting the fir around a little bit easier. At least she’d be able to take it from here.
“Thanks for your help,” she said in a polite tone that subtly indicated he was being dismissed.
“We’re not done,” he said with a grunt, seemingly oblivious. “We can walk the tree over to...that’s your store, right?”
She looked over her shoulder, the glance reminding her of how far away the store’s front door seemed now that she had to carry a heavy Christmas tree. “Yes. It’s my store. Which is why I can handle this.”
“Two man job, remember?” His breathing was even more labored than it had been earlier, except he didn’t look the least bit fatigued. If anything, he appeared to be full of energy and eager to continue. “You need me.”
That last line made her face flush. Which was ridiculous because that was clearly not how he meant it. If she had any sense she’d dismiss him now before she got all tongue-tied and said something stupid. Blair groaned inwardly. What was wrong with her? A few minutes with a good-looking man and already her mind was turning into pudding. Maybe she’d been out of the dating pool for too long. That must explain the reason she was this close to drooling over a guy who had overstayed his welcome.
Seeing that he was just as out of breath as she was signaled that there was no point arguing with him, however. He’d already exerted himself and she probably did need some help here. Best to get this over with, common sense and pride be damned.
“All right. Fine,” she relented through gritted teeth.
Somehow she managed to walk backwards to the storefront and then heaved the door open for them to carry the tree inside where it was considerably warmer than the dropping temperature outdoors.
“Now what?” he asked as she guided them to the far wall at the side where she had already set down some wrapping paper to protect the floor from water and needles falling off the tree.
“I’ll have to cut off the netting and put the tree in its stand,” she explained.
“I’ll support the tree while you do that.” He began to maneuver the tree until it was standing upright, handling the fir as if it weighed nothing at all.
Again, there was no point in telling him that she’d take it from here. Especially since every year she’d done this on her own had been a struggle. It was no surprise that Blair had managed to destroy a few branches over the years. This stranger’s helping hand could be worth it.
Nodding she said, “Right. I’ll go grab some scissors.”
She went off to get the sharpest scissors in the store, then returned to carefully cut the netting. Once the netting was off, they worked together to shake out the foliage. Blair hadn’t actually explained that was what the tree needed and he hadn’t asked to do it, which should have annoyed her, but for some reason it didn’t. Probably because as they shook the tree out, her hand bumped against his accidentally.
“Sorry,” she said quickly, blushing at the brief contact. The fleeting touch singed her. Bands of heat spiraled up her arm.
He gave a non-committal grunt and she thought that was all. A momentary touch that would soon be forgotten. Surely the heat that flared would fade away as quickly as it had come. Like a final ember in a fire that was certain to die down. But suddenly, they both shoved their hands into the foliage to straighten everything and she found her fingers entwined with his amongst the branches.
Blair drew her hand back as fast as she could. By contrast, the stranger was slow to move his hand away, acting as if the touch didn’t matter much to him. Didn’t affect him the way it did her. Of course it wouldn’t. She was the one who was touch-starved thanks to her nearly nonexistent love life. The barest brush of hands threatened to make her come undone. But a guy like him wasn’t going to feel a spark from a chaste, accidental touch. He probably hadn’t even noticed. Meanwhile, she was blushing like a schoolgirl.
Neither of them spoke much for the longest time as Blair worked to put the fir into its tree stand. It was only when she got the tree standing upright in its proper place that she awkwardly said, “Thanks again for your help.”
Help that she hadn’t actually stated that she wanted. Despite her hesitance to take him up on his offer, however, the newcomer had pushed his way into her store with a combination of charm and aggressive insistence. Not to mention he’d seemed utterly oblivious to her annoyance at some of his unnecessary comments. At least the hard work was over and done now so she could politely dismiss him and avoid feeling too guilty about taking up more of his time.
“Yeah, no problem,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he looked around the shop.
With the stranger distracted, Blair took the opportunity to give him a sidelong glance and size him up. He was broad-shouldered with a perfectly upright posture that made him seem huge in the cramped environment of the store. He was also dressed in running gear—a thermal running jacket, cargo sweatpants, heavy duty gloves, smart watch, and running shoes. That explained why he’d been breathing so heavily. The stranger wasn’t a weirdo, he’d just been out on an early morning run. From the looks of that toned body, he liked to stay in shape. No wonder he’d been able to carry the tree with ease despite his labored breathing.
“Usually, it’s best to give the tree a chance to breathe before putting ornaments on it so I can handle the decorations later,” she said, hinting that she was equipped to take care of the rest on her own.
“You take in old junk and stuff?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject as he continued to survey her store.
Old junk? Her antiques were not old junk. They weren’t just trash to be discarded. Each piece meant something. Not just to the original owners but to its creators. Real craftsmanship had gone into making each item. And considering most had been made a hundred years ago, that manual labor was a feat. Something to be admired. Not looked down on with barely contained disdain. Because she could see the arrogant dismissal in his eyes as he focused his gaze on her.
“It’s not junk. You really should show more respect for our town’s history,” she said tersely. So much for keeping her thoughts to herself.
He arched an eyebrow. “All this junk...uh...stuff was made here in town?”
“Yes, a lot of the furniture and artwork were locally crafted. In Mislin Bush or the surrounding towns,” she responded, barely suppressing a frown. “These pieces might not be the pricey stuff you see in museums, but there’s real history in this store. A hundred years’ worth of history.”
His green eyes met hers. They were so astonishing that she gasped at the sight of them. The lighting had an effect on his eyes that transfixed her. From pale winter-green to dark pine, they seemed to be every shade of green imaginable depending on the way the light hit them.
“What time do you guys typically open?” he asked. Another abrupt change in subject.
“Nine o’clock,” she replied.
He glanced down at his watch. “Whoa, you’re here early. It’s not even six in the morning.”
“I needed to get a head start on the decorations,” she explained, some of her animus receding. Maybe he had been a little insulting earlier but he’d also helped her out. Which was the neighborly thing to do despite how pushy he’d been about it. “And I’ve made headway. Thanks to you.”
“Don’t mention it.” He paused. “Still, kind of a lot of time to waste on a struggling business.”
The animus returned. It took a lot of willpower to bite her tongue. Blair narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s not—”
“Anyway, be seeing you,” he said, interrupting her yet again.
Before she could retort anything, the stranger swaggered out of the room, leaving her to stare after him in disbelief. He was by far the rudest man she had ever met. Blair hoped that he really was just passing through and she never had to interact with him again. It didn’t matter if he had helped her out. He was ill-mannered and arrogant beyond words. She needed to get on with her day and put all thoughts of him behind her, regardless of how handsome he was.
It was probably for the best that she hadn’t even gotten the rude man’s name.
