Merry Cherry Christmas - Keira Andrews Page 0,72

looked uncertain, and Max told him, “I can take you out later if you want. It’ll be fun.” More fun than you imagine. Jeremy nodded, and Max tried not to grin too widely, anticipation zipping through him.

“While the boys are out playing, can I buy a bottle of syrup to take home to my mom?” Alicia asked.

Valerie said, “You can’t buy one, but you can take whichever bottle you’d like on the house.”

“Thank you so much!” Alicia beamed and said to Max, “Your mom is the sweetest.”

Max’s breath caught, and he was frozen in place. Valerie smiled and thanked Alicia, not seeming fazed at all. “Do you know the differences in flavor from light to dark? You and Jeremy come along with me to the sugar house.”

Max watched them go. My mom. It wasn’t the first time someone had referred to Valerie that way, and it always made Max feel weird and awkward and guilty. Which he knew didn’t really make sense. She’d been amazing to him since the day they met, even when he was a sullen little shit. Meg called his father “dad” so easily. What was wrong with Max that he got so stressed about it?

“You good?” Honey asked.

“Uh-huh.” He watched them disappear into the sugar house.

“What’s up with you? Oh shit, did you get the test results?”

Max refocused on Honey. “No,” he lied. Well, he supposed it was true that he hadn’t gotten the results in that he hadn’t seen them yet.

“Okay. Then let’s do this.” Honey held up his palm.

Max slapped it, shaking off the uncomfortable feelings. He could deal with all of that stuff later. He grabbed the pack from where he’d left it out of the way, and Honey slung it on before they zoomed off along the service road through the acres of maple bush.

They had work to do.

Chapter Thirteen

Arms snug around Max’s waist, Jeremy held on, the helmet visor shielding his face from the cold wind as the snowmobile whipped along the narrow road through the forest. He leaned into Max, unable to resist a “Woo!”

Max shook with laughter, slowing for a curve and shouting back, “Told you it would be fun!”

Jeremy had never been on a motorcycle or snowmobile, and without his glasses, which wouldn’t quite fit under the helmet, the world was a blur. But he was with Max, so it wasn’t scary. Max revved the engine as they hit another straightaway, and Jeremy let out another whoop, adrenaline coursing.

Honey and Alicia had headed back to the city, and Jeremy was excited to have Max to himself for the rest of the afternoon. Valerie had packed them sandwiches and a thermos of hot chocolate, and it felt a lot like a date. Was it a date? He and Max were into each other. But were they officially dating now?

Just enjoy it!

Jeremy tried to quiet his whirling brain as Max slowed and turned off the road, following fresh snowmobile tracks along a trail. A gray blob appeared in the distance, and after a minute, Max parked the snowmobile outside. Jeremy was reluctant to let go of him, but he took off his helmet, his breath pluming in the frosty air. His hair was damp with sweat at the back of his neck. He unzipped his glasses case from his coat pocket and slipped them on.

“Oh!” He peered at the small stone cottage that was now in focus.

Max left his helmet on the snowmobile seat. “This was an original homestead in the pioneer days. We use it sometimes during the season to warm up and have a break.”

“Cool. It was built to last.”

“Yep. It was mostly log cabins back then, I think, but guess there was a stonemason around.”

Smoke curled from the chimney, blending into the gray sky. “Is someone inside?”

“Nope.” Max seemed antsy. “Come on.”

Curious, Jeremy followed him, kicking his boots against the stone wall. The cabin door creaked, and a wave of warm air fogged Jeremy’s glasses. He squinted around the one-room cabin through the misty blur. The cottage’s window didn’t let in much light, but flames flickered in the big stone fireplace.

Jeremy took off his glasses, unzipping his coat to wipe them on his hoodie impatiently. He put them back on, and his heart skipped. “Oh.”

There were fairy lights—looped around a few wooden chairs at a battered old table, others sitting on top. They seemed like the battery-powered LEDs, which made sense since the cabin didn’t appear to have electricity. There wasn’t much furniture in the small space,