Page 8 of Deck the Hauls

“Okay, now for your right foot. There’s a branch just to the left of it that looks pretty strong. Can you get to that one?”

Emily stared down at her feet, giving me another view of her tense face. “I think so.”

As she stepped down, I wriggled to find a more comfortable position. Unfortunately, there was no comfortable way to stand in the middle of a Fraser fir tree with hundreds of tiny needles poking you.

Emily wobbled, sending my heart pounding in my chest. I shot out my arms, but I didn’t like my chances of catching her from my position.

I exhaled as Emily stabilized. “You’re doing great. There’s another branch here you could step onto with your right foot.” I tapped the branch with my hand.

She stepped down again and then once more, until her butt was just above my head.

“You’re almost⁠—”

A loud snap sent my stomach lurching.

Shit.

I reached up, wrapping my arms around Emily’s waist as she dropped down. The force of her weight sent me keeling back, but I steadied myself just in time. With Emily’s body pressed against mine, I slowly walked us backwards out of the spiky tree. Good lord, this is unpleasant. It’s like rolling around on a pin cushion.

I inhaled a lungful of fresh air as we exited the tree. A faint floral scent was clearly discernible. Was it Emily’s hair products, or maybe her perfume? I sniffed the top of her head. Definitely her hair products. Mmm.

What the hell are you doing?

I quickly unwrapped my arms from Emily’s waist, cold air rushing between us.

“Are you okay?” I asked, studying Emily’s face before letting my gaze skim over the curves of her breasts covered in red cashmere and down to her legs. My interest is purely medical. Emily’s cheeks were flushed and her chest was rising and falling rapidly, but there was no sign of any obvious injury.

She ducked her head and nodded. “Just a bruised ego.”

I chuckled as I caught sight of the top of her hair.

“What is it?” Emily asked.

“You’ve collected some needles.” That was the understatement of the century. It looked like a bird with an affinity for fir needles had nested on her head.

“Oh!” Emily touched her head and her eyes widened. She bent over and dusted her scalp with her hands, sending needles flying. “Is that better?”

A few stray needles still poked through her now mussed hair.

“It’s definitely an improvement… Here, let me.” I leaned and gently slid the needles out of her hair, trying not to think about how good she smelled.

“There. Much better.” I stepped back, our gazes locking.

“Thank you.” Emily cleared her throat, her cheeks still pink. “Is the tree going to be okay?”

I peered at the fir, relieved to have something to look at that wasn’t Emily. “I think so. It was an interior branch that broke, and it doesn’t look like it has created an obvious gap. I’ll grab my saw and cut it off at the branch collar so it’s a clean cut.”

We headed back to where I’d dropped the saw and pruning shears.

“Well, if it doesn’t sell, let me know. We have a family tradition of buying Christmas trees no one else wants, and they usually look a lot worse than this one.”

Okay, I kind of loved that. Although… The tree was massive. Did Emily live in a mansion? “Could you fit it in your house?

“No, but my parents go all out decorating their front yard each year, so I’m sure we could use it as part of their Christmas display.”

Why did it not surprise me that she came from a family of Christmas fanatics?

“What exactly is this movie about anyway?” I asked, as I bent down to pick up my tools.