Tic-Tac-Mistletoe - N.R. Walker Page 0,20
blink at the mention of hard work.
We got a path cleared and Chutney did her thing, and I cleared some more toward the garage. But then Hamish lifted his foot and stomped down into the bank of snow. And he froze and shrieked. “Oh my God!”
I rushed to him, thinking something was wrong. “What is it?”
“It sounds like how cotton wool balls feel.”
Uh . . .
It sounds like how cotton wool balls feel. I had to repeat that in my head to see if I could make sense of it. I barked out a laugh. “Um, what?”
He still had his foot stuck in the snow. “You know that awful cotton wool ball feeling?” He held his arm out for me to help him. “It’s squelchy but dry and it’s like fingers down a chalkboard. Oh my God, it’s so bad.”
Chuckling, I put my arm around his shoulder and kind of lifted him out, putting him down on his two feet on the path. “Better?”
He looked up at me, so close our fronts were almost touching. He nodded slowly. “Much.”
My God, his eyes were so brown, they were like burned honey or malt whiskey . . . I could just melt into them.
“You warm enough?” I asked, ignoring how low and gruff my voice was.
He nodded again. “Yeah.”
Then Chutney had to take a running dive into the snow, yapping and having the best time of her life. Which was a great distraction and Hamish laughed and followed her along the path, which was also great because I was about two seconds away from something stupid like kissing him.
Boy, I needed to get a grip.
Hamish was still laughing at Chutney, who was now jumping through three feet of snow, and he looked at me with the happiest, sweetest smile.
It made my heart ache.
But then something buzzed and Hamish froze. It buzzed again and he threw his hands up and began patting himself down. “My phone! We must have mobile reception.”
He found his phone in his inside coat pocket and pulled it. If I thought he was happy before . . .
“Holy shit. So many messages, so many missed calls. Three bars,” he said, holding it up to show me. Then it rang again in his hand and I thought for a second he was too excited to answer it, but he shrieked first, then answered it. “Olivia!” He nodded and I could hear her excited shrieking through the phone. Then, still with his phone to his ear, Hamish put his other hand over his eyes and burst into tears.
Oh, man.
I didn’t know if she’d just dropped a horrible bombshell or if he was just overwhelmed. I was thinking it was the latter. I put the shovel down, took his hand, and led him up the porch steps, helped him out of his boots and inside the house. I sat him on the couch and pulled off his beanie. “I’ll just be outside,” I whispered.
He nodded and gave me a sad smile. He mouthed the words thank you to me, then spoke into the phone. “Of course I’m crying. Bloody hell, Olivia, do you not know me at all?”
I left him to it, happier now I was sure he was just overwhelmed and hadn’t received bad news. He clearly missed her like crazy, and he’d come so far to see her and metaphorically tripped over the last hurdle before the finish line.
I needed to clear more of a path to my garage. Then we could drive in town and see if his car was fixable or if the rental place could organise another one. The poor guy needed to see his sister, and I needed to help him. Enough of the selfish reasons I wanted him to stay, I needed to do everything I could to help him leave.
Leaning the shovel resting against the house, I picked up Chutney and trudged through the snow toward the garage.
Chapter Five
Hamish
“What do you mean he’s gorgeous?”
“I mean he’s fucking gorgeous,” I repeated. After I’d stopped blubbering, I’d explained my disaster of a day yesterday to my sister and, of course, that led to the part where I was rescued by the handsome stranger. “He’s gay, he’s single, he owns his own business. He lives in a cute-as-hell cabin-type house. He’s sweet and funny, and Liv, I don’t think you understand. He even named his dog Chutney from Legally Blonde. And he has little shoes for her so she can walk in the snow.”
“Oh hell, Hamish,” she