No. I’m not ready to let the world in.

I ignore the call.

But I catch sight of the date on my phone and do a double take. It’s almost December. Christmas.

All of a sudden, I glance outside and see the trees that surround us. They look just like Christmas trees. I lean over the sink to check them out. I doubt Jake ever did much decorating when the boys were kids, but I’m sure he put a tree up. He’s not a Grinch.

And I’m sure he shopped for a tree right in his own backyard.

Pushing off the counter, I almost leap to the closet, grabbing my coat, hat, and gloves. I slip everything on quickly and then kick off my sneakers and slip my feet into my boots. Wrapping my scarf around my neck, I race through the kitchen and into the shop, grabbing a pair of cutters off the tool rack and stepping outside before Jake or Noah can pull their heads out of the bikes to ask me questions.

The cold nips at my cheeks and nose, but the clouds are rolling in, promising more snow, and something can’t keep the smile off my face. I step through the snow, knee deep as I climb the small incline between the stable and the shop toward the most perfect tree laying ahead. I noticed it months ago, but with the snow on it, it’s even more beautiful. It’s fifteen feet tall and full around the bottom as it grows into a sharp point at the top, perfect shape for a topper.

But I’m not cutting it down. And I won’t ask Jake to. No, it would be a shame.

I do need some fringe off it, though. It has plenty.

Walking up, I curl my toes in the boots against the cold snow that slipped in and bat at the branches, dusting off the snow.

I lean in, closing my eyes.

The scent of the pine and snow smells like Narnia and Christmas. I can almost smell the wrapping paper.

I reach out with my cutters and take one of the twigs attached to a bough. I squeeze the handle, prying the small branch left and right, but it’s frozen.

The crisp snow falls off a branch and lands on a sliver of my wrist, and I can almost taste the silvery flavor in the air. I pull at the twig, twisting it, but then suddenly someone reaches around me and slices the twig off in one swift motion.

I jerk my head, seeing Kaleb looking down at me. The hesitance that’s usually present in his eyes is gone, replaced with calm. He hands me the twig, and I take it.

“I wanted to make something for the house,” I say quietly.

But he doesn’t reply, of course. Kaleb doesn’t care what I’m doing or why.

Reaching out, he slices off another twig, the needles spreading their snow all over my boots as he holds the branch out to me.

I nod, taking it. I open my mouth to say thank you, but I stop myself. Instead, I meet his eyes and tell him with a small smile. Without waiting for him to walk away, I point to another one, and he reaches around me with both arms, cutting off the twig and laying it in my arms. I reach up, pointing to a higher branch, and he stretches above my head, working his blade again.

We move around the tree, picking nice, long twigs with dense needles, and I’m not sure how long our little truce will last, but I’m sure it will last longer the more I don’t talk.

The next branch breaks off, the snow on it sprinkling over me and landing on my eyelashes and nose. A glob lands right on my cheek, and I wince, shaking my head and brushing off my face. I smile, but I don’t laugh. I don’t make any sound. When I look up, Kaleb is watching me with an amused tilt to his lips.

I take the branch and whip it at him, his head jerking away to avoid the flurries, but I catch his grin.

My own falls, a sting hitting the back of my eyes as I stare at him. That’s the first time I’ve seen that. Something like happiness on his face.

He meets my gaze, and I quickly blink away the tears, not sure what the hell is wrong with me. It’s only a beautiful smile, because I’ve never seen it.

We move to the next twig, and I instruct him with a nod to cut that one and a few more close by. He lays them in my arms as the wind kicks up, and thunder cracks overhead. A shiver runs down my spine.

He reaches around me again, his arms circling me as he lays the last twig in my arms, and I stay there, waiting for another branch, but…

It doesn’t come.

I close my eyes, feeling a light snowfall hit my cheeks.

I want to turn around.

And I don’t.

Kaleb scares me. Making love to him, it felt like… Like I’d never wake up.

Like I was suspended. I didn’t like it.

But I loved it.

I was lost but at peace. Drifting. With Noah and Jake, I can see the future. I know what will happen, but with Kaleb, there’s nothing. I can’t see the next five minutes, because the feelings evolve. He changes me.

I’m afraid I’ll lose my foothold. I don’t want to go back to being who I was. Scared, waiting, unsure… I don’t want anyone to have so much power over my emotions again.

He just stands there behind me, his warmth making the hair on the back of my neck rise, and I look down at his arms at my side, feeling his head drop into the back of mine.

A lump stretches my throat.

But I lean back into him all the same, a fire coursing through my blood.

This is how he talks to me.

His hot breath hits the back of my hair as he slowly pulls my hat off, my hair fluttering across my face as I tense.

Then he brings his arm down hard, knocking the twigs out of my hands.

My chest caves.

The twigs fall to the ground, and I clench my fists, my blood racing. A tornado hits my stomach, and I can’t move. Shit.

His hands trail down the arms of my black pea coat, his fingers tightening around me, and I only have a moment before he plants his hand on my back and shoves me forward.

I gasp, stumbling through the snow. The fear makes my stomach sink a little, but it warms, too, making the world spin. I straighten, about to whip around, but he nudges me again, not toward the shop and house, but…toward the barn.

I throw a glance at the closed shop door. Noah and Jake probably still work quietly inside behind the closed door.

He pushes me again. And again until I start walking on my own.

Steam billows out of my mouth, my hair falling in my eyes, and I glance behind me to see his gaze locked on me, following my every step.

Don’t be gentle. Don’t let me forget what I am to you.

He shoves me again, and I whip around this time, ready to push back, but he charges into me, pushing me up against the barn.

This is how he is. A breeze one minute, a cyclone the next.

He does exactly what he wants.

I barely breathe as he hovers over my mouth. Un-balling my fingers, he yanks my gloves off and works the buttons of my black pea coat. Gripping the lapels, he yanks me into him, coming for my lips.

But I twist my head away.

No kissing. Not this time.

Tightening his fingers, he jerks me into him again, bringing his mouth down, but he only gets within an inch. I hold myself back, shaking my head.

No.

The heat of his scowl burns my skin.

He grabs me by the jaw, and I clench my teeth as he forces my face up, his lips crashing down on mine. His mouth sears in his rage, but I steel myself, keeping my lips closed as I push him away.

“Ugh!” I growl.

He stumbles back, and I launch to make my escape, but he grabs me again, one hand on my jacket and the other in my hair, holding me to him as he forces his tongue into my mouth. The wet heat sends a shockwave through me, and my knees buckle. I want to wrap my arms around him.