His Snow Angel

by Tory Baker

  His Snow Angel

  Mistletoe Montana, Book 6

  Tory Baker

  Contents

  1. Tyson

  2. Eve

  3. Tyson

  4. Eve

  5. Tyson

  6. Eve

  7. Tyson

  8. Eve

  9. Tyson

  10. Eve

  11. Tyson

  12. Eve

  13. Tyson

  Epilogue

  Epilogue

  Want More of Mistletoe, Montana?

  About the Author

  Also by Tory Baker

  Copyright © 2020 by Tory Baker

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  “I think goals should never be easy, they should force you to work, even if they are uncomfortable at the time.”

  – Michael Phelps

  One

  Tyson

  Why am I not surprised that her car can be heard coming down the one-lane dirt road? Shaking my head, I return to helping the next customer load their Christmas tree into the back of their truck. As the owner of Mistletoe Christmas Tree Farms here in Montana, I take pride in everything I do. Hell, this place has been passed down from generation to generation three times now. Not that I thought I’d still be doing this alone at the age of thirty-seven years old. I figured I’d be settled down, a wife beside me, a child or three, and someone to hand this place down to when my time comes to an end.

  I finish loading up the tree, shake their hands, and stand back as they set off to leave. My eyes never leave Eve’s car pulling into the makeshift parking lot. She may be shy and reserved in some ways, but it definitely isn’t in the way she carries herself. Oh no, her clothes tease my senses in every way imaginable. Even her work clothes, the soft dresses she wears. I can see every curve of her body with every movement Eve makes.

  Today isn’t much different. She steps out of her small two-door car, her long hair flowing behind her in soft curls, reaching down to the base of her spine, to that ass. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve jacked off thinking about sliding my cock between those cheeks, coming all over them, my fingers buried in her cunt, my other hand teasing her tits that are way more than a fucking handful.

  My eyes don’t leave her body, not even when she turns around and spots me. Oh no, I let her know, like I have many times over the past few months, that I want her. That’s when her shyness would come in to play. I’ve bided my time though. Tried to let her get used to the idea of the two of us. The smile she gives me, it’s different than her usual one. More inviting. That doesn’t mean I’ll allow her to tempt me with that smile. Last year, Eve attempted to tell me she’ll just put her tree on her car’s roof. It didn’t happen then, and it damn sure isn’t happening now. The only difference this time is that it’ll be me who delivers her tree.

  She pulls out a beanie to place on the top of her head. That’s not what has my tongue thick with the thought of having her in my bed, writhing beneath me. Eve chose a pair of tight-as-hell jeans, only accentuating that ass of hers, and a flannel top with a puffer vest over it. It leaves little to the imagination and has my cock thickening with need.

  My body gravitates towards her, my feet eating up the dirt beneath me. “Eve,” I all but grunt out.

  “Hey, Tyson.” Her tone is so much softer than the way my abrasive voice came out.

  “Hey.” I clear my throat, trying not to come across as a colossal dick.

  “It’s that time of year, not that I haven’t been here during the spring and summer months.” Eve likes to come and take a peek when we’re not harvesting firs, pines, or spruces. I also have a part cleared off for some of the seasonal plants for the town of Mistletoe. It’s not a lot, but it definitely helps give me something to do during the down time.

  “It’s been a year. Don’t tell me you’re going to try and persuade me to tie a tree to the top of your roof this year?” I question. I’m sure a smug look is covering my face by the way she rocks back on the heels of her feet, those plush lips being sucked into her mouth. A mouth I want to taste with my own.

  “I can try, but you and I both know we’ll bicker back and forth until you’ll just throw it in the back of someone’s truck and make them deliver it to my place. Which is ridiculous, if you ask me.” Eve is referring to last year, before I gave in to the idea of wanting her as my own. I had one of my employees deliver her tree and set it up. It gnawed at my gut the entire time. It should have been me to do that for her. But I was pussyfooting around. Since then, though, I never let anyone do anything for her. In fact, most of Mistletoe knows my intentions, and the menfolk now know to stay well away from my Eve. It seems she’s finally getting with the program now.

  “Call it what you will, you would have cussed up a storm trying to get it down by yourself.”

  “Well, if you’re going to have it delivered, maybe you can do it this time around?” Yep, she knows what I’m after, without a fucking doubt.

  “What’s in it for me?” I play into her game.

  “I suppose dinner?” This time, her face is bright with color, causing me to look into her gorgeous eyes, eyes that remind me so much of the Douglas fir bark on a young tree, light brown with flecks of gray in them. Pink lips that darken when she nibbles on them with her teeth, high cheekbones, dark raven hair, and that smile. I lose a piece of my soul when she graces me with it.

  “This man might be persuaded if it includes the beef stew you brag about.” I wink. One thing I know for sure about Eve is she doesn’t brag.

  “Then I guess we have a plan tonight?”

  “Yep, I’ll bring it on over after we close today. You go look and find the one you want, and we’ll get it taken care of.” My hand moves a lock of her hair out of her face. Trying to keep my hands off her all these months has definitely taken its toll on me.

  “Sounds good. Thank you, Tyson.” My Eve does the complete opposite of what I think she’ll do. Instead of scurrying away to look at what I know is her favorite tree—the Frasers we carry are her tried and true—Eve stands up on her toes. Our height difference is almost a good ten inches, but that doesn’t stop her from kissing my cheek. It takes everything I have not to move my mouth to Eve’s, but right here in front of a good portion of Mistletoe isn’t the time. Oh no, that’ll be later today.

  “Anything for you, Eve.” I watch as she moves away from me, not leaving my spot until she disappears, my body hating that it’s lost sight of her. After today, if I have my way, that won’t happen a whole fucking lot anymore.

  I turn around and check if my employees need help. We don’t use chainsaws but instead use an axe when we cut our trees down or trim them. Nope, it’s all old-fashioned, as some would say. I’ve kept it authentic all this time, much like my father and grandfather did before me, and I intend to keep it that way.

  It doesn’t take long for me to find something to do, even though all I want is trail after Eve and bask in her presence. I don’t. I get to work. The faster this day is over, the faster I’ll have her to myself. That thought is enough to get my ass to work.

  Two

  Eve

 
I’ve heard the comings and goings of Mistletoe—it’s kind of hard not to in our small town and being the town librarian. You hear more gossip than you ever want to, but I had no idea how serious Tyson was until Krissy, who runs the bed and breakfast here in Mistletoe, told me. She happens to be one of the few friends I have. It’s not that I wouldn’t want a lot of friends. I’m more of the stay-to-myself type of person, unless it comes to children at the library, then all bets are off. Not to mention, she caters too. I don’t even know how she does it all. She’s a busy bee, that’s for sure.

  Krissy came to the library one day and overheard some of the guys talking about ‘staying the hell away from Tyson’s woman, Eve.’ I laughed it off until I noticed that even the butcher at the market averted his eyes when I went to order my meat. That’s when I realized it was time for me to take matters into my own hands, or somewhat of my own hands.

  Whenever I saw Tyson walking towards the diner, I’d make it a point to take my break at that time, put an extra sway into my hips, yet never look at him either. If he was going to play this game, I was going to up the ante. That is until today. I am the chess piece, and he definitely is my king.

  I mill around the farm, looking at all of the trees even though I know I’ll settle on the same style I always do. It’s still fun to walk around, see the excitement in the townspeople as they pick out their trees. Tyson even has areas that are staged here and there for family pictures—an old red truck, a tree in the back along with a sign used for a prop. At another area there’s a picnic type area set up, which is in full use with two toddlers crawling, roaming around while their parents try to get them to stay still long enough to capture the perfect image.

  It makes me think, Maybe that’ll be Tyson and me a couple of years down the road. Judging by his smoldering looks, I bet having children with him would be easy. I’m sure he’d say, “We’re getting pregnant,” and then the next month I’d be pregnant. Tyson Black is that virile. He’s tall, so tall that even when I was up on the tips of my toes, he had to lean down so I could kiss his cheek. His dirty blond hair, longer than what it is in the summer, the scruff on his jawline showing he hasn’t shaved in a couple of days, angular face. His eyes, though, they show more depth in their dark green, almost like the needles on a Christmas tree, which is kind of apt, really. When his jaw is completely smooth, you can see his dimples on his cheeks, but when it’s got some hair growth on it like he does today, they hide, and I can’t decide which I prefer more. Tyson is wearing his standard dark blue flannel shirt, which is open, a black shirt molded to his body beneath, hickory-colored work pants, and boots. This is the only version I’ve seen of him, and every time I do, my heart speeds up.

  After I look around for a few minutes, I head back to the Fraser Christmas trees, keeping my eyes peeled for the perfect height and width. My house is a rented smallish two-bedroom cabin. The living area is on the smaller side, but the ceilings are tall at ten foot high, the only saving grace on making it not feel like a postage stamp. Not that Tyson doesn’t have perfect trees, but I’m kind of a weirdo when it comes to finding the one I’m looking for, which he knows after last year. He meandered around with me for well over an hour before I finally settled on one. I think that’s part of the reason he didn’t keep talking to me, that and him staking his claim on me, letting everyone know I’m unavailable. I could roll my eyes about that, except I kind of want to stake my own claim on him.

  “Hmm,” I hum to myself, looking at the tree in front of me. It’s probably the tallest one I’ve selected thus far. Not for the first time am I begrudgingly thinking that Tyson is right—there’s no way this one will fit on top of my car, not that I’m going to admit that to him. He’d probably gloat for days on end.

  “Did you find one?” The man of the hour comes up behind me, startling the pee out of me. Not really, but just about.

  “Shit, you scared me, Tyson.” I look behind me. He’s standing with his hands in his pockets, feet spread wide, as if he’s settled in.

  “You okay?” He walks towards me.

  “Oh yeah, and I think this is the one. Are you sure you can bring it over tonight? I don’t want anyone to snap it up.” Christmas in Mistletoe is like walking in a winter wonderland. Every house is decorated in town and on the outskirts of town. The businesses all get in it together and even hold an annual Christmas parade too.

  “Let me go grab an axe, and I’ll get it down and put in my truck. That way, you don’t have to worry, sweetheart.” Tyson doesn’t give me any other words. Instead, I’m standing here, watching his retreating back, and boy do I love the view of every flex and pull of his body moving, and I wonder just what he’s packing underneath those clothes of his.

  It doesn’t take long for Tyson to come back, axe on his shoulder, a grin playing on his face. I’m sure the reason for that little tidbit is because I’m practically drooling over the way he looks right now.

  “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?” Tyson knows exactly what he’s doing. The way he carries himself says it all.

  “Maybe. Maybe I’ll just stand here and watch you work.” I arch my eyebrow. His smile deepens, and hello panties that are now soaked from that alone.

  “You do that.” He gets to work after taking off his flannel shirt. His strong forearms give way to even stronger biceps, and I’m clearly here for an amazing show of watching Tyson Black wield an axe.

  Three

  Tyson

  I felt Eve’s eyes on me the entire time I was cutting her tree down. I hated like hell it didn’t take long because I knew the next step would be for her to pay, and I was having a hard time dealing with the fact I’d be taking her money when she was already mine, even if she didn’t hear those words come out of my mouth yet.

  Eve is at the cash register by the time I’ve hauled the tree to the back of my truck, knowing full fucking well I’ll be leaving and following her back to her place. One thing my Eve doesn’t have is patience. She’ll pace the entire time while she’s waiting for me, like she does when she’s waiting on a new delivery of books to the library. It’s just who she is.

  “That’ll be one hundred and twenty-five dollars,” I hear Melanie say.

  “Okay.” Eve starts to hand her the card to ring up her purchase.

  “No charge,” I demand. Melanie takes her hand away, her smile never leaving her face. She’s been an employee since before my parents handed down the farm to me, an older lady who likes to work here for the extra cash.

  “What do you mean, no charge?” Eve isn’t having any of this. I can see by the way she places her hands on her hips that she’s not going to let this go unsettled.

  “It’s just what I said, no charge.” I nod my head to Melanie and grab Eve’s hand. “Give us a minute.” No one else is around. This is my time to let her know exactly what’s going to happen.

  “Tyson, you’re acting like I can’t afford my own dang Christmas tree.” My stride is longer than hers, tempting me to pick her up. I resist, and instead match her pace while walking us towards the office, needing a place without peeping eyes and wondering ears. If I could pick her up to get to a closed-off area sooner without setting the tongues wagging, I would. Too bad that’s not the case.

  “You don’t think I damn well know you can, Eve?” I stop in my tracks, and she has to skid to a halt so she won’t run into me.

  “The way you’re acting, it sure seems that way.” Her hand is still in mine, but she continues throwing her attitude around, and boy am I going to enjoy fucking it out of her.

  “I’ll explain as soon as we’re in the office. I don’t want the whole town of Mistletoe hearing what I have to say.” I took my tone down a notch. I pull her in, my lips moving to her ear, and tell her, “Unless you want them to. I know you’re a quiet person, so I’m trying to do this the right way, but sweetheart, you’re making it damn hard on me.”

  “Oh, okay, then.” I hear the hitch in her voice, the soft way she says those words. I want nothing more than
to have that in my bed. Taking a step back, I see her other hand not holding mine moving to her throat, and she nods.

  This time, my strides aren’t so long, even though as soon as I have that door shut, I’ll not only tell her what I want, I’ll fucking show her too. There won’t be a day that goes by that my woman will question my intention. I open the door, letting her hand go to turn the light switch on.

  “Um, not to be rude, but Tyson, this place is a mess.” I spin around and see she’s not wrong. I’ll have to see if Melanie wants to work a few hours a week in here. I take care of the books, make sure we have supplies, but other than that, this is the last place I want to be.

  “You’re not wrong, but we’re not here for that discussion right now. We’re here because you need to know, right here and now, that you’re mine. You’ve been mine in my eyes for a while now. The only one who needs to get up to speed with that is you.” My hand moves to the nape of her neck, brushing the hair away so I can feel her skin beneath my palm. My other hand brings her in closer. I want to feel more of her body against my own.

  “So, it’s true, then. You scared every guy away from me, good or bad, young or old. And I’ve got to tell you, even old man Sal won’t look at me when I’m talking to him now.”

  “I damn sure did. I’m not going to apologize for it either. Now, are you with me?” I squeeze her hip, my body stepping into hers, pushing her until her ass lands on my desk.