an entirely altruistic suggestion. He wanted Amy in his bed. He wanted a repeat of last night—hopefully without him tearing condoms like a fucking schoolboy. He wanted more of his woman, and he wanted it so much that it took everything he had not to throw her over his shoulder and haul ass back to his place.
But she only gave him a stubborn look. “It was cold here last night and me and Donner got through it okay. It’s fine.”
So it had been out last night, too? He gritted his teeth. “I’m going to build you a fire, and then we’re going to try to fix your heat.”
“I’ll put on some coffee. And you promised me pizza, didn’t you?” She gave him a sassy wink.
Why was she in such a good mood when it was positively arctic in the house? Shouldn’t she be mad at Greg? He sure as shit was. But she was in a fantastic mood, and he didn’t get it. Maybe he was just sour that she was going to try to move away, as if that would somehow change things.
Building Amy a fire ended up being more time-consuming than he’d thought. She had no wood, for starters, so he went back out to the tiny grocery store in town, bought two ridiculously overpriced stacks of wood and some starter logs, and stopped by the pizza place to get them dinner. He grumbled all the way through making the fire, and grumbled even more when he tinkered with the thermostat. Amy ignored all his grouchiness, wrapping presents by the fire and offering her pizza crusts to Donner, who took them with far more politeness than he should have.
“I still want you to stay at my place tonight,” Caleb told her. “Not sure if I like the idea of you having a fire going all night.” In this disaster of a house, the entire thing could go up in flames. Who knew if Greg had the chimney inspected? Who knew if the fire alarms worked?
But Amy gave him another frustratingly mulish look. “I’m going to stay here. You don’t have to bail me out.”
Bail her out? He didn’t want his damned woman to freeze. “Then I’m staying here,” Caleb declared. “You and I are going to share body heat.”
“Oh. Well, that sounds like fun.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.
He really, really did not understand this woman sometimes. Or any women, for that matter.
* * *
* * *
Two days later, Amy decided to deliver Christmas cookies to her friends and her coworkers. It wasn’t with a completely unselfish motive, of course. She and Caleb had plans to go ice-skating, but it had snowed so heavily that they’d stayed in and made cookies instead. Now she had plate after plate of frosted red jingle bells and green holly leaves, and if she ate even one more snowman cookie, she’d be tasting powdered sugar in her sleep. So for sanity—and her waistline—she was going to give them away.
Painted Barrel’s school was small, so they’d all shared addresses and phone numbers, and Amy dropped by each teacher’s house to deliver personally. It was good to see them outside the school environment, and she was welcomed with a hug and an exclamation of surprise and pleasure. Even surly Elizabeth, the school secretary and wife to the principal, invited her in for coffee. It made her feel welcome. Like part of a community after all. Sure, she was reaching out to them instead of the other way around, but it was a start.
Once she’d made all her teacher deliveries, she swung by Becca’s salon. Becca was with a client, so she couldn’t talk long, and Amy dropped off the cookies with a promise to text her later. After that, she just had one final delivery—to Layla.
Even though it was Christmas week, the bubbly accountant was still working in the office. Well . . . sort of working. When Amy went in, she noticed Layla had her combat boots kicked up on the desk and her crochet in her lap, her computer’s screen saver dancing with Christmas trees and snowmen.
“I see that you’re super busy today,” Amy teased.
Layla sat up, grinning. She put her feet on the floor and her crochet away. “Family’s visiting. You know how it is. My mother’s determined to find me a man, so she keeps showing me pictures of her friends’ sons. I told her I had to come in to work. And it’s a good thing I did,