Christmas with the Mountain Man (Log Cabin Christmas)

Chapter 3

Lacey

I’ve done a lot of dumb things during my life.

Trying to cut my own hair as a kid.

Yelling at the House Mistress who holds my fate in her hands.

Walking out on an interview with a famous actor because he called me chubby.

And now, thinking I could fit through this tiny window. But I have to blame this town for making me crazy. This assignment is harder than I thought. Nobody wants to talk to me, it’s like they have all had a big meeting and decided I am the enemy. Everywhere I look there are Christmas decorations bringing up bad memories from the past. And then there is Officer Tate. I see him everywhere, watching me. It makes my heart race and I feel hot all over. He is just so damn sexy. All of this combined has made me desperate to get this assignment over and done with. I know there are big estates on this mountain, if I could just get my hands on the real estate records I could find the people I’m looking for.

Thus. I find myself now stuck in a window with my ass hanging out to the world. I was relieved when Tate showed up. One, because, as much as it hurts to admit, I need help. And two, because there is something in Officer Tate’s smile that tells me I can get away with almost anything. And while this is possibly the most embarrassing situation to be found in, I don’t feel uncomfortable around Tate while he is pushing and pulling at my body. In fact, the whole thing has us both in fits of laughter.

“Push in your stomach.”

The instruction comes from outside while he has his strong hands on my hips. I do as instructed and finally I start to move as he pulls me out of the window and into his arms.

“Just like rescuing a kitten from a tree.” His words are soft and kind as he holds me, still standing on the bench I’d used to reach the window.

“Can you stand?”

I nod and he lets my legs drop slowly to the bench. For one blissful moment my body is pressed full length against his and there is a zing of electricity between us. His arms around me. His gaze on my lips, I swear he might just lean down and kiss me.

But then the moment is gone and he seems to give himself a mental shake. The professional Deputy Sheriff is back in control. He helps me down from the bench without looking at me. But I can feel the heat radiating off his body. His big strong hands on my waist. There is something rock steady about Tate that makes me want to be held by him. To rest my head on his chest and know that everything will be okay. But I’ve made it this far in life without someone to hold onto. I straighten up, though my legs feel stiff, I tell him I am fine.

His hand is warm on my back as we walk around to the front of the building.

“I found our raccoon, Mrs. Waite. Seems Miss. Lane here got herself in a spot of trouble.”

The old lady bobs her head as Tate walks me to his truck and deposits me in the passenger seat. “Stay here. Don’t move. And don’t touch anything.”

I watch as he goes and speaks to Mrs. Waite. Obviously reassuring the woman that he has everything under control. The man oozes calm and confidence. Being a Sheriff suits him. Once again I’m hit by the longing to have someone in my life I could turn to when things get tough. But I pull myself together before Tate settles into the drivers side and starts the engine.

“Am I under arrest?”

“Probably should be but I thought I might take you for a hot chocolate instead. Give Mrs. Waite a chance to lock up. Maybe figure out if I need to put a body on your 24/7.”

Omg, try not to blush at that!

He looks at me and smiles and I feel my stomach do a little flip.

“Want to tell me what was so important in that room that it couldn’t wait till tomorrow?”

There is no point lying to him. If he isn’t going to arrest me for trying to climb through a window then I feel pretty safe telling him what I was after.

“I was looking for real estate records. Wanting to know where the rich and famous live.”

“And then what? You plan on waltzing up to their front door and saying Merry Christmas, would you mind telling me all your dirty secrets for my article? Or are you planning on doing more breaking and entering while you’re in town?”

“It wasn’t really breaking. The window was unlocked.”

“So was the door by the way.” He said it with a soft chuckle and I can see he is re-living the scene of me with my ass stuck out a window.

He pulls up in front of a cafe and comes around to my side to open the door but my feet have touched the ground before he gets there. I note the slight frown but step up onto the sidewalk, the smell of coffee and melted chocolate too good to run away from now that the cold night air is setting in.

We settle into a comfy booth in the pink cafe. As we wait for our drinks Tate explains that the place has a new owner who has plans to make it into a 50s diner style place and that they make the best hot chocolate around.

When they arrive, our drinks are served in oversized glasses with whipped cream and chocolate syrup and an extra side plate of marshmallows. I take a long sip, loving how the warm feeling travels through my body.

“What made you become a reporter?” His voice is deep and sexy.

“I like to find out people’s secrets. There is the face people want you to see and then there are things they don’t want you to see. That’s where I come in.”

“But do you have to be digging up dirt on people at Christmas?”

I shrug and slowly sip on my drink.

He gives me a thoughtful look. I look out the window to avoid his gaze.

“Christmas is for families and bringing people together. Wouldn’t you rather be with your family, than working during the holidays?”

I let out a little sigh. “If you must know, I hate Christmas.”

“How can you hate Christmas?” He looks genuinely shocked. “It’s the happiest time of the year.”

I give another little shrug. “I don’t have any family. So I never really understood the whole Christmas cheer thing.” I try not to think of all the years I longed for a big family Christmas. For presents under the tree with my name on the tag.

Tate reaches out to lay his hands over mine. I pull back. I’m not one for sympathy. I really shouldn’t have mentioned it but he kept going on about Christmas and families. The look on his face reflects my pain and I have to get out of there. With a rushed thanks for the drink and a garbled explanation about work to do, I flee out of there as though the devil is on my tail.