Christmas Eve was probably the worst night of all. Suzanne had cooked roast beef with sweet potatoes and green bean casserole and insisted they all watch It’s a Wonderful Life together because it was Grady’s favorite. She sincerely doubted it actually was—he seemed more of a John Wayne guy, maybe Rambo—but fake Christmas-loving Grady totally dug the film. Unfortunately, he didn’t get in until after it was over and her parents had left for the cottage.

He grunted his usual cursory greeting before heading directly to Zoom’s tank, his long legs easily eating up the distance. “I fed him already,” she said.

He faltered. “Oh, thank you.”

He detoured to the drinks cabinet instead, grabbing a tumbler and the bottle of bourbon, which reminded her of the blizzard and made her cranky. And horny. Which made her crankier.

“You want one?”

Suzanne shook her head. The way she was feeling right now, she’d probably dump it over his stupid fat head. “Please tell me you get a day off tomorrow?”

He downed the first slug of bourbon. “There’s no such thing as a day off for a rancher,” he said, talking to the bottle as he poured himself another.

Suzanne blinked at the belligerence in his tone. Was he trying to prove some kind of point? Apart from how much of an asshole he could be? “Your men also work Christmas Day? Don’t they have families?”

“They get Christmas off.”

“We’re expected at Winona’s at eleven.” God, she sounded like a…wife. “The snowman competition kicks off just after that.”

“Of course it does,” he muttered as he lifted the tumbler. “Don’t worry. There’s only a couple of hours’ work in the morning.” He looked over his shoulder and raised his drink in her direction, his lips twisted in derision. “Fake rancher boyfriend will be present for duty.”

Then he downed it, savoring it in his mouth for long moments before swallowing like it might be his last. Like he was going to his death tomorrow instead of a freaking feast.

Cooked by someone else.

“I’m going to hit the shower,” he said, moving away from the cabinet and not glancing in her direction.

Suzanne watched him go, striding through the archway and disappearing from sight. She shook her head. He was damn lucky she wasn’t one of those bunny boilers, or Zoom would be in a pot on the stove right about now.

…

Grady felt lower than a snake’s belly in a wagon rut the next morning when he strode toward the cabin at just past eleven. He had been avoiding Suzanne the past three days, staying late in the barn tinkering with shit and doing unnecessary maintenance, but he hadn’t meant to be late this morning. He’d told her he’d be home in time for them to be at Winona’s by eleven and he’d meant it.