Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“Uh-huh.” Her tone was heavy with implication. “That’s one thought. Another is that what the two of you just shot was the most chemistry I’ve seen my brother have with anyone since… well, ever.”
I felt heat rising in my cheeks and blamed it on the fire. “We were playing to the camera. That’s what content creation is—manufacturing moments that resonate.”
“You know he still has that sweater,” she said in a softer tone. “He keeps it in his desk at the store like a lucky charm. I didn’t realize it was Nordique. That’s kind of cool.”
Before I could respond, Maddox returned, his expression thunderous. “Alex isn’t answering. But Ella just texted to check how the shoot went, which is interesting, considering she was the one supposedly going over to nurse Alex.”
Maya suddenly became very interested in packing up the camera equipment.
“What are you saying?” I asked.
Maddox’s eyes narrowed. “I’m saying something is fishy about his last-minute cancellation.” He turned to his sister. “Maya, do you know anything about this?”
“Me?” She blinked innocently. “Why would I know anything?”
“Because you and Rosie Marian have been known to pull… shenanigans.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Maya protested, though her cheeks flushed tellingly. “Maybe Alex really is sick. Or maybe he got a better offer. Or maybe the universe just wanted you two to have hot chocolate together. Cosmic alignment. Serendipity. Whatever. Don’t blame your adorable sister or her beloved former babysitter.”
Maddox looked unconvinced. “You have five minutes to strengthen your defenses against a detailed interrogation,” he promised his sister before turning back to me. “I promise I’ll arrange a backup plan for your next date.”
I blinked. “What kind of backup plan?”
“In case we have another mysterious cancellation.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure the guy was just under the weather. Besides—” I gestured between us. “—this worked well. The footage will be good—honest reactions, genuine conversation. If tomorrow’s date falls through, we could always—”
“No,” Maddox said firmly. “Absolutely not. Today was a onetime emergency solution.”
“But—”
“No buts. I’m the videographer, not the date. That was the deal. Rule number three, remember? And today’s rule about only allowing one exception to that rule?”
I raised my hands in surrender. “Fine. Just trying to keep things simple.”
Maya coughed something that sounded suspiciously like “missed opportunity.”
Maddox ignored her. “We’ll meet Wednesday at nine at the Pinecone to coordinate. Emerson’s Christmas Tree Farm opens at ten, and your date—a local firefighter named Marco—will meet us there.” He emphasized the name as if daring the universe to interfere again. “I’ll confirm again before I go to bed tonight.”
“Sounds perfect,” I said, gathering my things while trying not to think of Maddox Sullivan in bed. “Nine it is.”
As we left the lodge, Maya fell into step beside me while Maddox walked ahead, texting furiously—presumably still trying to reach Alex.
“For what it’s worth,” she said quietly, “I think your followers are going to love what we got.”
“Thanks.” And that was my only purpose here, so nothing else mattered anyway. At least, that’s what I told myself as I tried unsuccessfully to tear my gaze away from Maddox’s retreating figure.
I watched Maddox’s ass as he leaned over to put his equipment into their truck and found myself replaying our conversation by the fire—the unexpected depth beneath Maddox’s gruff exterior, the way his eyes had lit up when talking about his grandmother’s hot chocolate.
For the first time since arriving in Legacy, I felt myself relax a little. Even when things went wrong, they seemed to work out okay. So far, we’d managed to avert a crisis at every turn.
And averting a crisis with Maddox Sullivan wasn’t so bad. In fact, spending time staring at him across the table while his face softened into memory or tightened in challenge had actually been pretty amazing.
I quickly pushed that thought aside. You’re here for content, Adrian. Nordique. Career trajectory, remember? Not about gawping over pretty assholes. Remember what Vic said, and don’t fuck this up.
But as I watched Maddox help Maya into the passenger seat, his strong hands moving with surprising gentleness, I couldn’t help but wonder if Legacy, Montana, might offer me more than pretty pictures after all.
#WhippedCreamOnTheNose #ReluctantlyAuthentic #TouchTheCashmereAgain #EyeCrinkleKryptonite
6
#UNPLANNEDCHEMISTRY
MADDOX
How was it possible to be both proud of your work product and also horrified by it?
I sat in my studio above the gallery, rewatching the reels I’d sent Adrian for the fourth time, ignoring the morning light that filtered through the large windows and the usual clutter in my crowded workspace. Photos lined the walls, mostly candid shots from around Legacy: Ravi Menon teaching his wife to ski, Jade Cleary and her prized tomatoes in the summer sun, Maya laughing at last year’s Christmas parade.
But right now, my attention was fixed on my monitor where Adrian Hayes sat bathed in firelight, his perfect face animated as he described the “notes of complexity” in the orange and dark chocolate cocoa. The way the light caught his features was almost unfair—all elegant angles and warm shadows that made him look like he’d been designed specifically for cameras to love him.