A white wedding overlooking a ranch covered in fresh snow sounds like the most beautiful scene Dahlia could ever imagine. Until she’s trudging through snow taller than her boots, carrying the floral centerpieces, garland, candelabras, candles, and everything else she needs for this wedding into the mansion of a cabin on Hayne’s Ranch.
She drops the last box a little harder than intended, and cringes.
“Rough morning?” a man asks with a southern drawl.
Dahlia blows her wild curls out of her face and looks up from where she stands with her hands braced on her knees. Her cheeks are flush and sweat trickles down her spine from the strain of getting everything inside from her SUV to make the bride’s day everything they could dream of. “You’ve helped with every wedding I’ve ever set up here until today. Of all days. Seriously?” she scoffs and sheds out of her puffy jacket. Aggressively, she pulls her hair tie out of her messy bun to grab the escaped pieces and put it up again.
“It’s snowing,” Hunter says casually as a smirk tilts the left side of his lip. His honey-colored eyes sparkle with amusement, which only fuels the fire in her veins.
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Dahlia waves her hands at her soaked pants and boots. “You might want to shovel a path for your guests. I’m just saying.”
Hunter chuckles and she just noticed the snow shovel in his hand as he walks to the door. She arches a brow at the peculiar man. Hunter bought this ranch one year and a half ago, and after six months, he made it one of the hottest locations for weddings. He has this beautiful cabin with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the woods. Freshly polished hardwood floors that glow with life. There’s a curved staircase that leads to the second-floor photographers swoon over to get pictures of the bride with her long flowing train. And Dahlia gets to decorate it all. Her fingers itch in anticipation of creating something with all the flowers she and the bride agreed upon.
Dreaming of Dahlia’s was her childhood dream and one she worked her way to make a reality. She’s the most sought-after florist in this part of the state. And for good reason. She loves to be challenged and make sure each wedding is unique in its own way. This makes her fifteenth wedding at Hunter’s place. He has a gorgeous black barn with a concrete floor. Then there’s the arch on the dock overlooking the lake that many brides lover. And lastly, he has this place.
Dahlia assumes he gets a hotel or something while the bride uses his house. It never looks lived in when she’s here. That must speak for how tidy of a man he really is. She stretches her neck and pulls out the bride’s file, placing it on the table to make sure not a single detail gets missed. When her music comes through her blue-tooth speaker, she’s transported to a different head space and gets to work.
Hunter scoops a shovel of snow from the driveway and tosses it to the side. This would be faster if he’d go get the tractor, but this work keeps his mind and hands busy while Dahlia’s inside. He pauses when he spots her twirling around the floor with the handful of white roses? He isn’t sure. He wasn’t raised by a man who brought his wife flowers and never had a reason to step foot into a florist shop. But watching her work has mesmerized him since the first day she showed up. He was shocked she showed up alone, with no one to help her. That’s when they’re dance sort of began. She was right to bust his balls earlier for not helping unload the SUV. With the weather change, the damage the army did to his body has been prominent, and it took him longer than he wanted to get to the cabin this morning.
The intention of moving here by himself was to avoid any kind of human interaction, but she shot those plans to hell when she showed up with her curly hair and not an ounce of makeup to hide her beautiful face. He knew by making this place a wedding venue he’d have people here, but he never planned for someone like her to be a permanent person coming around. He smirks as her mouth moves along to whatever song she is listening to. In a matter of hours, she’ll have transformed his cabin into something beautiful. She amazes him with each design she comes up with.
By the time he finished shoveling the driveway, he accepts his defeat that he’ll need to scrap the rest of the driveway with the tractor. It winds down a hill through the woods and his ranch sits far back off the main road so it can’t be seen. Another selling factor for this place when he was hunting for something to fill the void in his life. War changed him to someone he isn’t proud of and took so much from him—he didn’t feel like he could go home and look his friends and family in the eyes. They’d only see the shadows and scars on his haunted body. The smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, no matter how hard he tries.
He sighs as he uses his left hand to lift his leg behind to knee to climb up on the tractor. He looks over the place that is his. A home he’s made safe for himself and he can let his demons out without the fear of hurting someone he loves.
As he drives by the cabin and grates the snow he shoveled for good measure, a pang of sadness hits his chest when Dahlia comes into view and the cabin looks like something out of a magazine. She’ll finish soon and leave, only coming back to pick up the decorations later tonight.
He glances at the sky, squinting at the clouds. There’s more snow coming in. He feels it in his bones.