Undeniable Demands. Andrea Laurence

stomped back to his four-wheeler and stood there a moment, letting the cold sink in and douse the aggravating mix of anger and attraction surging through his veins. When he was back in control, he shrugged into his coat, jumped on the ATV and peeled out of her yard in a doughnut as he used to do as a teenager. The back tires sent a sheet of snow flying against the side of her trailer. It was juvenile, but she seemed to bring out the worst in him.

      He was fuming as he plowed through the snow. It should be illegal for a woman that gorgeous to have a mouth that irritating. Honestly, once she’d peeled out of her jacket and revealed a snug pair of jeans and a fitted, long-sleeved T-shirt, he’d almost forgotten why he was there. It wasn’t until she picked up her shotgun again that he realized he’d followed her inside without her permission.

      Victoria had been one of his best and brightest architects. He’d hired her straight out of college when the company he and Alex had started was still small and spending more than it earned. She’d contributed quite a bit to making their first few big projects a success. He’d even considered asking her out to dinner. But then his assistant had come to him with concerns about seeing Victoria at a restaurant looking a little too cozy with one of their potential suppliers. She had been quite vocal about giving the man an upcoming contract, and the implication was clear. He fired her on the spot. Part of him regretted that. And not just because she had knockout curves, flawless skin and long, fiery red hair that made him warm under the collar.

      He had wanted to believe her when she said she didn’t do it. The thought of her with another man nearly made him crazy. But the logical part of his brain was infuriated by her audacious attempt to influence corporate contracts like that. Sleeping with a potential contractor was just as bad as taking bribes from one. Both compromised a person’s objectivity and put the ethics of his company in question.

      He would not have it, so he terminated her. He never dreamed the decision would come back to haunt him.

      If she were any other woman, he would’ve asked her to dinner to talk over his offer and kissed her to keep the inflammatory words from flying out of her mouth. Her temper, as spicy as her hair, was a massive turn-on. He had a weakness for redheads.

      But she wasn’t another woman. She was holding on to seven years of bitterness along with the key to something more important to him than anything else. Protecting his family was his number one priority. Toying with Victoria like a cat with a mouse could cost him dearly. He needed her to sell him this land. He couldn’t fail. As much as he’d like to resolve their differences between the sheets, it wasn’t the answer in this situation. He doubted it would sway her, and she’d probably shoot him if he tried to kiss her.

      “Arrogant and pigheaded,” Wade grumbled, turning to steer the four-wheeler down the center aisle of trees toward the entrance. She thought she knew so much. Well, she forgot rich, powerful, ruthless and determined Wade Mitchell came in the same package. He would secure that land and protect his family one way or another.

      Wade came to an abrupt stop as an old pickup truck, draped in Christmas lights and garland, pulled in front of him. Piled into the trailer it towed was a crowd of bundled-up people sitting on bales of hay and singing Christmas carols. The driver, Owen, threw a hand up at Wade, then continued back toward the house.

      Hayrides, Santa visits, sugar cookies and hot chocolate. Picking out a tree at the Garden of Eden wasn’t just a shopping trip. It was an experience. On the weekends in December, the farm was a madhouse. And it had to be. A good portion of their income came from just this one month. Sure, they did other things throughout the year, but Christmas tree farms depended on a good Christmas to stay afloat.

      And lately, it hadn’t been enough.

      Wade blamed himself for that. When the boys grew up and moved away, the Edens had to hire in help. Owen had always worked on the farm, but as each year went by, more staff was added and their expenses went up. Throw in a mountain of hospital bills and competition from increasingly more realistic fake trees, and the Edens were lucky they’d survived this long.

      Wade followed the truck to the house and then veered off to park the ATV back under the awning where they kept it. The farm would be closing soon, so he skipped the house and headed around to the tree-processing area. Heart attack be damned, he found his dad out there with a couple of teenage boys. They were leveling, drilling, shaking and net-bagging all the trees selected by the last round of customers.

      As though he’d never left, Wade grabbed a tree and put it on the shaker to remove any loose needles. When it was done, Ken laid the tree out to drill. They carried special stands in the gift shop that ensured a perfectly straight tree.

      Wade held it still while Ken drilled.

      “You haven’t lost your touch, kid. Need a job?”

      Wade smiled. “I could work for about a week. Then I’ve got to get back to town.”

      “That’s fine, fine. We’ll be closed by then, anyway.” Ken lifted the tree and gave it to one of the boys to run through the netter. When he turned back, he gave Wade a big welcome hug. “Good to see you, son.”

      “Good to see you, too, Dad. Is that the last of the trees for tonight?”

      “Yep. With perfect timing, you’ve shown up just when all the hard work is finished. Come help me haul these trees out to the parking lot and we’ll go see your mother.”

      Wade grasped a tree in each hand and followed his father through the snow to the parking lot where the last few cars waited for their trees. He watched his father carefully for signs of ill health as he hauled around the trees and helped families tie them into trunks and onto roofs. The man wasn’t quite sixty yet and had always appeared to be at the peak of health. His brown hair was mostly gray now, but his blue eyes were still bright and alert, and he didn’t hesitate in his physical work. Ken had always been a lean man, but a strong man. If nothing else, he looked a little leaner than usual.

      “There’s nothing wrong with me, so quit looking for it.” Ken snatched the last tree from Wade and hauled it down to the pickup truck waiting for it.

      Wade followed him, then stood quietly until the truck pulled away. “I wasn’t looking for anything.”

      “Liar. Everyone has been doing it since your mother told Julianne about that damned attack I had. It was no big deal. I’m fine. They gave me a pill to take. End of story. Don’t be sitting around waiting for me to drop dead so you can inherit this place.”

      Both men chuckled, knowing Wade could buy and sell the farm ten times over and had no interest in getting his claws on any inheritance. “You’re looking good to me, Dad.”

      “Yeah.” He slapped Wade on the back and started walking toward the gift shop. “Most days I feel okay. I’m slowing down a little. Feeling my age. But that’s just reality. The attack threw me for a loop—just came out of the blue. But between the pills and your mother’s dogged determination to feed me oatmeal and vegetables, I should be fine. What are you doing up here so early, Wade? You kids don’t usually show up until Christmas Eve.”

      “I had some time in my schedule, so I thought I’d spend it with you guys. Help out. I know I don’t visit enough.”

      “Well, that’s a nice lie. Be sure to tell your mother that. She’ll eat it up. All of you boys are in a panic since you found out we sold that land.”

      “I wouldn’t call it a panic.”

      “Wouldn’t you, now? Four out of the five of you kids have been here in the past month, just randomly checking in. I’m sure Xander would’ve come, too, if congress wasn’t in session fighting over the stupid budget.”

      Wade shrugged. “Well, what do you expect, Dad? You kept your heart attack a secret. You’re having financial trouble and you don’t tell any of us. You know we all make good money. There was no need to start selling off the farm.”

      “I didn’t sell off the farm. I sold off some useless rocks and dirt that were costing more money than they earned. And yes, you make a good living.