4. Levi

CHAPTER 4

Levi

Markets were a staple in Juniper Hollow, but last night’s? That was something else. By the time I packed up, my mood was lighter than it had been in weeks. It wasn’t just the sales, though those helped. It wasn’t even Paige’s giddy delight when her stuffies sold out halfway through. No, it was something—or rather, someone—else entirely.

Aiden.

Nicholas’s brother. Gorgeous, with that messy, unintentional kind of charm that knocked the wind out of you before you even knew what hit you. The kind of guy who ticked every box I didn’t let myself admit I had. The kind of guy who didn’t just look like a daydream—he felt like one.

But there was no point thinking about him, not when the odds of him being into guys, much less into the same niche kink as me, were slim to none. A flash of his wide eyes and tentative smile crossed my mind, and I shoved it aside. The way he’d barely met my gaze? That wasn’t interest. It was caution. Distance.

I leaned back against the kitchen counter, sipping my coffee and letting the warm bitterness settle me. No big deal. I’d probably never see him again. This town might have fewer than ten thousand people, but somehow, I’d managed to go four years without knowing Nicholas even had a brother.

Not that I could blame him. If I were Aiden, I’d have stayed far away from Juniper Hollow too. Cozy as it was, this place had a way of wrapping its arms around you and squeezing the dreams right out of your chest.

Nicholas had mentioned his brother in passing a couple of times recently. Home for the holidays, he’d said. I’d nodded, barely listening, assuming the brother would be another regular guy, blending into the background like everyone else here.

But Aiden wasn’t regular. Not even close.

And now, standing here replaying every second of our interaction, I had to stop myself. Whatever spark I thought I felt wasn’t mutual. And even if it was, it didn’t matter. Someone like Aiden had no business being tethered to a place like this—or to someone like me.

I drained the last of my coffee, the mug heavy in my hand. Time to move on. Or at least pretend to.

I’d spent hours doing chores at the farm and had barely finished unloading the truck of fresh-cut trees before I was heading out again. Visiting Grandad wasn’t merely a habit; it was a necessity. Keeping him in the loop kept him calm, and if anyone deserved peace of mind, it was him.

Christmas decorations framed the care facility lobby, a testament to the staff’s effort to bring some cheer to the residents. Grandpa always appreciated the little touches, though he’d never admit it outright. His approval usually came in the form of a slow nod or a quiet hum.

Grandad’s room was at the end of the hall, past a series of cheerful prints and bulletin boards cluttered with flyers for yoga classes and bingo nights. I didn’t knock. He hated that.

I stepped into his room, catching sight of him seated by the window, a crocheted blanket draped over his knees. His gaze followed the falling snow outside, lost in thought. It didn’t matter how old I got—there was something grounding about seeing him. My constant, my rock.

“Grandpa.”

His face lit up, the lines around his eyes softening. “Levi. ‘Bout time you showed up.”

“You saw me two days ago.” I crossed the room and kissed his temple, the scent of his aftershave grounding me.

“Two days can feel like a lifetime when you’re stuck listening to Arnold yammer on about the good ol’ days.”

I chuckled, pulling up a chair beside him. “Well, lucky for you, I’ve got an update to save you from Arnold’s war stories.”

His eyes narrowed with interest, a telltale sign he was eager to hear about the farm. “How’d the fair go? Did those gingerbread cookies sell?”

“Like hotcakes,” I confirmed. “And we had more families come through than last year. Might have been our biggest turnout yet. We sold out of almost everything, and Paige cleaned up with her stuffies. You’d have been proud of her.”

Grandpa gave one of those slow nods, his version of applause, turning to the window. “I’m proud of all of you.” he said. “This town’s got more Christmas spirit than it gets credit for, but it doesn’t hurt having the Kincaids giving it a push.”

I leaned back, letting the warmth of his approval soak in.

He cleared his throat. “How’s the cash flow looking?”

“It’s looking good for now. The holidays always give us a bump, but we need something steadier to get us through the slow months. I’m looking at options.”

Grandad’s sharp gaze pinned me in place. “Options like what?”

“I’ve been thinking about seasonal partnerships,” I said quickly, anticipating his usual protest about overextending myself. “Maybe letting the farm double as a wedding venue during the off-season. People love the rustic thing right now.”

“And those Airbnbs you’ve been working on?” His brow arched in that no-nonsense way of his. “What’s the story there?”

I hesitated, my grip tightening on the armrest of the chair. Grandpa didn’t miss much. “The exteriors are done. Just need to tackle the interiors. They’ll bring in steady income if I can get them up and running, but I can’t hire anyone until after Christmas. Every spare dollar is going back into the farm.”

Grandpa sighed, his tone softening. “I get it, Levi. I do. You’ve got a lot on your plate, and you’re doing everything you can to keep things afloat. But you don’t have to do it all on your own. You’ve got family. Friends. Hell, even this town. People would help if you let them.”

“It’s not that simple,” I said, shaking my head.

“It is if you let it be,” he countered, his voice firm but not unkind. “You’ve always been the type to put your head down and push through, but sometimes that just wears you out. If you keep going like this, you’ll burn out. And then where does that leave the farm—or you?”

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. Before I could respond, the door opened, and Nicholas poked his head in. He slipped into the room carrying a tray of Grandad’s evening meds. His easy smile immediately softened the tension in the room.

“How’s our favorite resident today?” Nicholas greeted with a grin, placing the tray on the side table.

“Better now that Levi said we had a good turnout at the fair,” Grandad said, his tone lighter. “Next thing you know, we’d be featured on Pacific Northwest Living or one of those holiday specials on TV.”

I laughed. “You’ve got big dreams, Grandpa. Think we’ll be signing autographs by spring?”

“Why not?” he countered with a twinkle in his eye. “People love a good story about a family farm keeping traditions alive. Don’t sell us short, Levi. Kincaid Christmas Trees has star power.”

Nicholas’s laugh was warm. “Sounds ambitious.” His gaze flicked to me, curious but not intrusive. “Good market, huh?”

I nodded, grateful for the change in focus. “It was a good day.”

Nicholas stayed a few minutes, fussing over Grandad’s blanket. Grandad adored him. They chatted for a bit about everything and nothing, from the weather to facility updates. Before long, Nicholas excused himself, leaving the room as smoothly as he had come, but the thoughtful glance he cast my way lingered.

By the time I left Grandad’s room, the knot in my chest had loosened, but only a little because my head buzzed with his words. As much as I hated to admit it, his concerns were valid, but I couldn’t magic up solutions, either. The Airbnbs were a money pit until I could finish them, and I didn’t have the bandwidth to do it all myself. But where was I supposed to find someone willing to put in the work for cheap—or better yet, for free? I’d barely stepped into the hallway when Nicholas reappeared, leaning casually against the wall.

“Levi,” he called softly, pushing off and falling into step beside me. “I couldn’t help but overhear you and your grandfather talking about the Airbnb project.”

I sighed, tucking my hands into my jacket pockets. “It’s nothing urgent. Just something I’ll get to once the season slows down.”

“Maybe I can help,” he said, his voice easy but deliberate. “Aiden and I have been butting heads lately. It’s nothing major, but he’s only been home since the holidays started, and I don’t want things to escalate. If he stayed somewhere else, even just temporarily…”

I frowned, unsure where he was going with this.

Nicholas pressed on. “He could stay at the farm. Work on the interiors. He’s got time on his hands, and it sounds like you could use the help. He’s good with his hands.”

My brain stalled. He had to be kidding. Putting Aiden—blue-eyed, bashful, perfect Aiden—under my roof was asking for trouble.

“Nicholas,” I started, but he raised a hand.

“Hear me out. It’s not charity. Aiden’s been working non-stop lately—he’s got clients to keep happy and some big plans he’s working toward. But I think he could use a change of scenery, something to pull him out of his head for a while. And you need someone who’s not afraid of a little elbow grease. It’s a win-win.”

I hesitated, every practical part of me screaming that it made sense, that it was the perfect solution. But the other part—the one already too aware of Aiden’s lopsided smiles and hesitant glances—knew better.

“I don’t know,” I said finally, my voice low.

Nicholas studied me for a moment, then grinned. “You’ll think about it, though.”

I didn’t answer, but the silence that followed was telling enough.

The idea of Aiden being in my space, sharing my world—even temporarily—was both exhilarating and terrifying. Because for the first time in years, I found myself wanting something more than just the farm’s success.

I wanted him.

"You won’t regret it."

Oh, but I might. As Nicholas clapped me on the shoulder and walked in the opposite direction, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was signing up for more than renovations.