“Thanks!” His answer was faint, but at least he’d heard and acknowledged her order.
She closed the door and stood there shivering, her arms wrapped protectively around her body. He was nuts, crazy as a loon. What kind of man risked his safety to bring a Christmas tree to a woman who didn’t want to celebrate in the first place?
Yet she sensed that this wasn’t all about her. In helping to slay her demons, he was also facing down his own. She couldn’t very well deny him the chance to do that, and if he used the rope, tying it to the latch on the outbuilding and then around his waist, he would have a lifeline back to safety.
The rope was part of her search and rescue gear, but it would serve the purpose of orienting Tucker while he tried to locate a tree. People who lived in this part of the country often tied rope lines between the house and the barn so they’d have something to guide them when they checked on the animals during a snowstorm. Knowing Tucker would use that rope made her feel marginally better about him taking on this job.
He’d been a reckless kid in high school, and so far he’d confirmed that he still possessed that trait. Taking a snowmobile into the teeth of a storm to chase a runaway horse might be brave, but it was also foolish. If the horse had run in a different direction, away from all habitation… She didn’t like to think how that might have turned out.
And yet, his reckless nature was part of what made him so sexy. When he’d impulsively kissed her, mostly to get his own way about the tree, she’d tasted a kind of thrilling abandon that didn’t come her way often. In fact, she hadn’t encountered it since the night of the Christmas formal.
Was that kiss simply a means to an end, getting past her objections to his plan? Or would he take it a step further when he returned? Then again, maybe he’d wait for her to make the next move.
Now that he was outside, she had a chance to think more clearly about what might or might not happen between them tonight. She should decide what she wanted now instead of making that decision in the heat of the moment. As she’d just discovered, a moment with Tucker could get very hot very fast.
Oh, who was she kidding? There was no decision to be made here. Her fantasy man had appeared on her doorstep when neither of them was committed to someone else. If she ever intended to discover what making love to Tucker was all about, now was the time.
And that prospect set her panties on fire. She hurried into the bathroom and rummaged through her cosmetic case to see if…yes! She still had the box of condoms she’d become accustomed to taking along on trips with Lenny. He never seemed to remember, which should have been another sign that he was the wrong guy. The right guy wouldn’t leave that responsibility up to the woman in his life.
She tucked the box back into the case and closed the lid. Her heart was beating so fast she pressed a hand to her chest and took a shaky breath. She had the man, and she had the condoms. This could be the best Christmas Eve of her entire life.
AS NEEDLES OF SNOW HIT his cheeks and the wind threatened to blow him over on his way to the outbuilding, Tucker considered the fact that Lacey might be right. He very well could be crazy for coming out here to dig up a tree. Back in the cabin he’d pictured himself as a valiant hero who braved the storm to bring her an evergreen on Christmas Eve.
But when a guy made a boast like that, he had to produce or come off as a braggart who couldn’t follow through. The possibility of staggering back into the cabin, treeless and frozen, hadn’t occurred to him when he’d left. It sure as hell occurred to him now that he was in a pitched battle with the wind and snow.
Adding to his idiocy was his most recent move—kissing Lacey. He really shouldn’t have done that, but kissing her had seemed like a better option than standing there arguing with her. He’d known it would distract her.
Maybe, somewhere in his pea brain, he’d hoped she wouldn’t kiss the way he remembered, which would help him put the brakes on his lust. But no. If anything, his memory hadn’t done justice to the experience of going mouth-to-mouth with Lacey.
He thought again of Lenny and couldn’t imagine how anyone could give up kisses like that. Maybe she didn’t kiss Lenny the same way. Maybe Tucker brought out her inner wild woman.
Yeah, right. That kind of thinking was exactly what got him into trouble every damned time. He’d decide that the woman in question had never had someone love her right, and it was up to him, Supercock, to give her the kind of pleasure she deserved. He needed to forget that crap.
At the moment, he had one heroic job, and that involved digging up a Christmas tree. That should cool his jets for the time being. The storm was a humdinger.
Luckily he was moving into the wind, which pushed his hat onto his head. But on the way back he’d be in danger of losing it, especially if and when he dug up a tree and had to wrangle that back to the cabin. He was definitely nuts for doing this.
Well, maybe not entirely. He and Lacey really did need to get over their holiday issues. Speaking for himself, the idea of making Christmas happen for the first time since his mom died held a certain appeal. He’d never been moved to do it for anyone else, but he was obviously a sucker for Lacey. Sharing a Christmas celebration with her seemed like the right thing to do on many counts.
But first he had to come up with the tree. And get into the damned outbuilding when snow had piled up against a door that was probably frozen shut by now. He kicked most of the snow away and pried open the latch.
This had sounded so easy when he’d described it to Lacey. Putting his whole weight behind the effort, he finally wrenched open the door with a loud crack. Instantly he positioned himself in the opening in case Houdini stood right there, ready to make a run for it. When no Houdini nose shoved against his chest, he slipped inside quickly and reached for the light switch as he pulled the door closed.
Houdini dozed peacefully in his allotted space next to the Jeep. Apparently the horse had worn himself out running through the snow earlier. Bonus. The Jeep looked okay, but some fresh chew marks on a two-by-four stud were probably Houdini’s handiwork. Tucker decided not to worry about that now. He’d assess the damage after the storm ended.
Relieved that Houdini seemed to be settled into his temporary quarters just fine, Tucker rummaged in the back of the Jeep and located both a shovel and the hefty coil of rope. He also needed something for the tree’s root ball, but the only bucket turned out to be the one he’d used for Houdini’s oats. He’d need that again.
On a shelf near the door, he found an empty burlap sack and took that, instead. The outbuilding felt cozy, but Tucker didn’t linger. He had a tree to dig up.
Once he was back outside in the bone-chilling cold, he secured the outbuilding’s double doors and tied one end of the rope to the latch. He wrapped the other end around his waist and knotted it, although his dexterity was hampered by the freezing temperature and the shovel and sack he held.
Finally he was armed and ready to bag himself a tree. Failure was not an option.
He took a moment to orient himself and walked around to the back side of the cabin, which faced south and was the most likely to have unfrozen ground. He trailed Lacey’s rope behind him. Although he’d initially imagined hauling in a man-size blue spruce, he’d scaled back his expectations to a child-size pine. In some things, size mattered. In this case, it was the thought that counted.
But he didn’t have a lot of choices. Exactly one tree grew next to the cabin in what might be unfrozen ground. The tree had a nice shape, but it stood at least seven feet tall. Tucker surveyed the situation, took note of the condition of his fingers, toes and nose, and decided digging up this very tree was the best he could hope for.
Some time later—could have been thirty minutes, could have been an hour, could have been two hours—he enclosed the tree’s roots in the burlap sack and half carried, half dragged the tree around to the front of the cabin and up the steps to the small porch. She’d better love it, that was all he could say. He would have thought all that effort would warm him up, but instead he was one gigantic icicle.
As if she’d been listening for his approach, she threw open the door. “At last! I was ready to send out the St. Bernard with a keg of whiskey!”
“Took longer than I thought.”
Her attention strayed to the tree lying on the porch. “Oh, Tucker. It’s perfect.” She stepped back so he could wrestle the tree inside. “Plus it smells wonderful.”
He’d have to take her word for it. His nostrils were frozen shut. He’d been mouth-breathing for what seemed like hours.
“I cleared a place for it in the corner.”
Branches scraped along the hardwood floor and he hoped the tree wasn’t leaking sap. Then he realized that nothing would be leaking sap, including him, when the outside temperature was this cold. All gelatinous substances would be solids by now.
He’d dug up as much of the root system as he had the energy for. Consequently, the tree had a solid base of roots and soil inside the burlap. Once he tipped the tree upright, it stood straight and looked magnificent, exactly as he’d pictured it would.
“Tucker, that’s amazing.”
He glanced over and discovered her gratitude and awe was directed at him, not the tree. He’d impressed her, and suddenly the ordeal was worth every finger-numbing, toe-numbing second he’d endured.