We'll Be Home for Christmas by Helenkay Dimon Page B

exactly like that.”
    Travis tilted his head back and grumbled in words too low and rough to make sense. When he faced her again he wore a crooked smile, as if he’d been found out and was resigned to it. “With the campground work, and with Austin and Mitch away, Spence’s been working triple time. He handles the nursery business in the evenings after the days of construction.”
    That sounded like such a careful sentence, one that downplayed the mess Spence unraveled each day. “How many hours are we talking about?”
    “Probably four or five. Maybe more.”
    She did a quick calculation and couldn’t come up with much extra time away from work or even for showering. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
    “Look, Lila, it’s who he is. He’s a smart guy who works his ass off. He helps people and never talks about it, but he doesn’t let his job suffer, even if it means going days with almost no sleep.”
    “That’s crazy.”
    “Well, this time the sacrifice is for you.”
    So much giving and she’d been clueless. Actually, if she were honest, she’d practiced a form of not wanting to know. It didn’t take a math genius or super detective to add up the clues here. “He never said a word.”
    Travis shook his head. “Not his style but he wouldn’t do it if he didn’t want to.”
    “Who would want to work like that?”
    Travis closed one eye and with only one left managed to stare her down. “I think it’s more that you matter, so he makes it work.”
    The words left an echoing thud in her ears. They wound around her, warmed her. The shield she held in front of her body to block any potential blows lowered a bit. “He’s not easy to understand.”
    “Despite the big brain, he’s not nearly as complex as he thinks he is. People rarely are, but you’re good for him.”
    She blocked the sentiment. If she let her mind wander down that path...well, a woman needed some self-preservation. “Not for his sleep patterns.”
    Travis wiped a hand over his mouth. Spent another second clearing his throat. “I’m thinking sleep is the last thing on his mind as far as you’re concerned.”
    And with that she realized she was talking to the wrong man. “Good night, Travis.”
    “Good night, ma’am.”
    “Lila.”
    He smiled. “Lila it is.” He pushed off the railing and treated her to a wink before he lumbered down the stairs, whistling as he went.
    Five minutes later she still stood on the porch. When the light didn’t blink out in the farmhouse on the hill, she made a decision. The life-altering kind. She was done with their mutual game of hard-to-get. It was time for her to take control.
    * * *
    The black lines on the report in front of Spence blurred together into one long smudge. He closed his eyes, hoping they’d focus again when he reopened them. He’d reached the point of them being dry and scratchy as if pebbles swam around in there. Much more of this shit and he’d sign his name to anything.
    Not that he had another choice. Seeing Lila every day, reveling in the pure joy she took from completing each task, kept him coming back. That and the pretty face, hot ass and memories of her naked. The same memories that kept him perpetually hard. He hadn’t been this on edge and ready for action since he was a teen and nailed anything that let him.
    He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head. The office was unusually quiet, having closed hours before. The Christmas tree in the corner by the entrance glowed with a mix of white and red lights as the soft notes of a carol he didn’t quite recognize played on the radio.
    The room usually buzzed with activity—phones ringing, printers humming, people in and out and a steady run of chatter about what was happening in town. More than once he’d heard reference to his name and The Last One, and he tried to pretend the tag didn’t apply to Lila. The town’s matchmaking had bloomed out of control and he wasn’t even in the nursery all day