Liv

“Hannah, can you please start frosting these cookies for the other neighbors? I want to run this next door to Travis, as a thank-you for helping us this morning.” Picking at the cookies for the hundredth time on the plate, I switch one of the oatmeal cookies out for another chocolate chip. He didn’t come off as an oatmeal cookie guy.

I look up, and Hannah smiles big at me.

“You like him,” she giggles.

“Hannah—”

“It’s okay, Mom. He’s hot,” she exclaims, lifting an eyebrow, daring me to disagree with her. I don’t, but she’s only seven and much too young to understand what hot means.

“Hannah Elizabeth—”

“Cassidy says her mom tried dating him once,” she cuts me off. Cassidy is her new friend at school. Thankfully, when we did arrive at the school, we weren’t terribly late. It was a late start day, whatever that means. I hugged my daughter good-bye and watched as she followed one of the ladies in the office to her class, hoping she’d look back and give me one of her million-dollar smiles, assuring me everything was going to be okay.

She didn’t. And it nearly broke my heart.

“You and Cassidy sure talked about a lot of things today.” I try my best to sound casual about it all, but I can’t help myself. “What happened?”

“He’s a serious grinch and hates Christmas.”

“Hates Christmas?” I ask, looking down at the plate of festive desserts. Crap, this is such a bad idea. “How can anyone hate Christmas?”

“That’s what I said. But apparently, ever since he moved to this town, he’s never decorated, never wished a single person a happy holiday. He’s been nothing but a grinch.” She picks up a clean spoon and dips it into the frosting before popping it into her mouth.

The sound of a car door opening and closing interrupts me from asking my daughter—who seems to know an awful lot about the man next door—anything more. I walk into the next room and check his driveway for his truck.

He’s home.

But that’s not what sends me flying out the front door of my house. It’s the man standing in front of my car with the hood open. He’s bent over it, doing something, but from my spot at the door, I can’t see what.

“Get away from my car before I call the police,” I yell, and I see him react to my voice. It probably isn’t the smartest move, confronting whoever it is this way, but it’s too late now. The man peeks from around the hood of my car, and the moment my porch light hits his face, I breathe a sigh of relief.

It’s my neighbor.

Travis.

“What are you going to call them with, a plate of cookies?” he asks, looking more annoyed now than he did yesterday on my front porch. I look down at the plate in my hands and turn, quickly placing them on the flat surface closest to me.

This isn’t how I planned to give him these, and if what Hannah says is true, my original plan to leave them on his doorstep with a note is a safer bet.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you,” I admit and walk toward the car, stopping when get close enough. “What are you doing?”

“Changing your battery.” He lifts the crummy-looking battery out of its spot in my car and places it on the ground. He lifts another battery, this one clearly brand new, and places it in the empty spot. I watch him carefully connect the wires, while my brain is firing rapidly. The sight and scent of him leave me breathless.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because you didn’t listen and do what you were told to do.”

“I have an appointment tomorrow morning to have it done,” I lie because I don’t want him to think me incapable. Parker was always the one to deal with anything car related, so this is all new to me.

“Where?”

“At the place you recommended,” I volley and cross my arms over my chest. Which is difficult to do in my puffy winter coat.

“Bullshit.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I run the place, and no one called today about needing a new battery.”

“Maybe I called a different auto shop.”

“Impossible.”

“And why is that?”

“I’m the only mechanic in town. There isn’t another shop within a thirty-mile radius.”

I feel my jaw drop and my skin flush with embarrassment. Caught in a lie, I don’t know what to say, except who the hell does he think he is grilling me like I’m some child?

“You have no right—”

“Look, lady—”

“My name is not lady,” I spit, throwing my arms down to my sides. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you have no right to grill me this way. I said I would take care of it, and I will.”

“I don’t know if you’ve missed something here, but this isn’t something you put off in the middle of winter. If you get stranded, you could freeze to death.”

“Thank you for caring—”

“Oh, trust me, darlin’, this isn’t me caring. In fact, this is the opposite of caring.”

“Then why in the hell did you break into my car and change the battery?”

He slams the hood down, bends over to pick up the old battery, and my eyes zero in on his denim-clad ass.

Holy fuck! How did I miss that?

When he straightens, my lady bits cry out in disappointment. And when he turns to face me, I feel that familiar throb in between my legs.

“Your kid,” he explains quietly. “I did it because you have a kid. Just because her mother wants to make stupid choices doesn’t mean she should freeze to death waiting for a tow truck, which, by the way, would come from my shop—”

“Mom, is everything all right?” Hannah’s voice interrupts him from saying anything more, cutting the tension building in the air instantly. I turn around to find my daughter standing in the doorway with the plate of cookies I put together for our new neighbor.

He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it before anything comes out and turns to stomp his way back to his house.