Finn walks over to me, and I wrap an arm around his shoulders automatically, but I’m acutely aware of Melody watching. There’s no judgment in her gaze, just curiosity and something like… longing?
“I’m going to take Oxford back to the barn,” she says suddenly. “He stole my scarf, and I’m getting cold.”
The llama gives her what can only be described as an eye roll.
“Right,” Everett says. “We should get back to work, anyway.”
“See you back at the cabin?” Finn asks her.
She nods, her eyes flicking between Everett and me once more before she turns to go. I watch her leave, the red scarfaround the llama’s neck a bright spot of color against the white and green landscape.
“One more hour,” Everett says, checking his watch. “Then we call it a day.”
I nod, already dreading going back to the cabin, where Melody’s scent will be inescapable. But also, if I’m honest with myself, I’m looking forward to it in a way that makes guilt settle heavily in my stomach.
“One more hour,” I agree, picking up my ax.
Finn wanders back to his stump, and Everett and I select the next tree. We work in silence, but the air between us is charged with the knowledge that something fundamental has shifted today.
One thing’s sure: Christmas in Snowflake Valley just got a lot more complicated.
10
Melody
“Seriously, what is it about men with axes?” I mutter, trudging through the snow with Oxford at my side. “It’s completely unfair. Nobody should look that good while sweating.”
The image of Gabe and Everett chopping wood is burned into my retinas—muscles flexing beneath those flannel shirts, the focused intensity in their eyes, the way sweat glistened on their foreheads. It was like watching some kind of lumberjack porn.
“And the smell,” I continue, shaking my head. “It must be all the sweat mixing with the pine or something.”
Oxford gives me the side-eye.
“What?” I ask him. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m just making observations.”
He blinks slowly, unimpressed.
“Fine, they smell incredible. Is that what you wanted to hear?” I kick at a clump of snow. “Everett smells like a candycane, and Gabe smells like… URRGG! Whatever. Maybe it’s the fresh air out here? In the city, everything’s polluted and muted.”
It’s a logical explanation.
“And they’re a couple,” I remind myself firmly. “I mean Finn and Gabe. Finn is nice and funny and—”
I stop walking. “Wait. Do you think Finn noticed that I was gawking? I wasn’t trying to… I mean, I wasn’t hitting on Gabe or anything.”
Oxford just stares at me.
“You’re right. I’m overthinking this. It’s perfectly normal to notice attractive people. It doesn’t mean anything.”
We continue walking; the silence broken only by the crunch of snow beneath my boots and the occasional snort from Oxford.
“Do you think they noticed me noticing?” I ask suddenly, mortification washing over me. “Oh god, what if they think I’m some kind of desperate omega? First, I crash their bonfire completely drunk, then have a total breakdown… oh, and don’t forget the twerking. And singing. Not to mention my inviting them to stay with me and threatening them with my dry shampoo. OMG! They must think I’m a total psycho.”
Oxford makes a sound that suspiciously resembles a sigh.
“Or maybe I’m just being paranoid,” I continue, working through my thoughts aloud—“This is why I hate being an omega sometimes.”
As we approach the barn, I notice a few people gathered near the entrance. Charlie stands at the edge of the group, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Even from this distance, I can tell she’s seething.