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“No.”

“No lights?”

“No.”

“No wreath?”

I looked at her. “No.”

She held my stare for another beat. “You really committed.”

“To what?”

“Being the grumpiest man in Big Wood.”

“I thought Jace Ramsey still had that title.”

She tried not to laugh and lost.

Damn. Emmy had always smiled with her whole face. Eyes first, then mouth. Made it hard not to stare.

“I didn’t know you were funny,” she said.

“I’m not.”

“Sure.” Her gaze went back to the bare mantel, then past me to the window, where one corner of her crate showed through the glass. “You know there’s a six-foot Christmas tree on your porch.”

I went to the kitchen before she caught me smiling. The coffee I’d made earlier was still warm. Gave my hands something to do.

“Coffee?”

She shrugged out of her coat. “Do you have anything stronger?”

“It’s not even noon.”

“And according to you, I’m not going anywhere. Plus, it’s the holidays.”

I didn’t see how that changed anything, but I poured anyway. “I’ve got whiskey if you want me to add a shot.”

“Only if you’re having some too.” She leaned a hip against the counter while I poured. My kitchen wasn’t small. She made it feel small anyway, looking around like she expected to find a box of ornaments I’d hidden somewhere.

She wasn’t going to.

I added a dash of whiskey to the mugs and handed her one. Her fingers brushed mine.

“Drink your coffee.”

She blew across the top of the mug and gave me a look over the rim. “You think I’m an idiot for driving out here.”

I shook my head. “Not an idiot, but maybe not the wisest decision.”

“I have twenty-seven prepaid orders in that crate.” She set the mug down and pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “And a custom display I need for the Christmas festival. And inventory I can’t replace before the weekend. So yes, I drove out here.”

“Is that why you came back?” I asked.

“To pick up inventory?”

“To run the shop.”