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As if sensing his disappointment, she reached out and rested a hand on his arm. “It’s just that it’s the last week of school before Thanksgiving break, and I’ve got festival planning meetings, and I don’t want Daisy to spend too much time with my dad or he may try to steal her.”
“I don’t think your dad wants that pain-in-the-ass puppy.”
“Ha, that is what he wants you think, but he was the same way when my mother brought home Butch, who was supposed to be her dog. When I went to pick up Daisy from them Friday night, my dad was leaning back in his recliner, sleeping, with Butch at his feet and Daisy stretched out from his lap to his chest, her face buried in his neck.” She shook her head with a laugh. “Such a softy.”
“He’s a good man.” Clark cleared his throat. “You’ll let me know? About that date?”
“Absolutely.”
“Clark! Get your brother!” Victoria hollered.
Merry chuckled. “You’d better get going before she starts counting to three.”
“Sounds terrifying.” His hand brushed hers as he passed. “I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll be here.”
He cut across past the garage and headed down the hill to the house, thinking about Holly’s analogy that he treated everything, including his personal life, like he needed to prepare for every potential disaster. When Patrice got pregnant, he researched scholarships, financial aid, and grants, anything to help keep him in school. Then she’d left and although he hadn’t expected it, he’d been able to handle it because he’d assumed they’d both be returning to college after Jace was born and would need daycare. He’d been one step ahead, analyzing the pros and cons. Completely prepared for whatever life could throw at them.
Except Merry. She’d come out of nowhere, and he’d been overwhelmed by his feelings for her, playing them down even in his own mind.
When she was a faceless woman on the computer, there hadn’t been the stakes until she became a flesh and blood person. She wasn’t the superficial princess he’d imagined her to be in high school. People wanted to be around Merry because of her caring, open heart, spreading warmth like the sun to the trees.
Man, when did he start waxing poetic?
He walked through the door and his brother turned his head against the back of the couch to look at him, a day’s growth on his cheeks, chin, and above his upper lip.
“I thought you were getting pictures taken?”
“I am, but so are you.” Clark tossed him the plaid. “Hurry up and shower, shave, and put this on with a pair of jeans. We’ll be up by the trees to the left of the main house waiting.”
“When did you buy us matching shirts like we’re some Pinterest-perfect family?”
“I didn’t. Victoria did. The Winterses are giving their employees family pictures for Christmas, and you and Jace are my family so she bought us all matching shirts.”
Sam got up and held the shirt in front of him. “Three guys in one picture wearing the same shirt? We’re going to look stupid.”
“I don’t care,” Clark growled, ready to choke Sam. “I’m wearing the shirt and so are you because we’re not hurting her feelings. And although I always get Jace’s picture taken this time of year, this will be the first one as a family. So can you just put aside all that too cool for this attitude and look like a dork for your little brother?”
“Fine. But only because I never like to disappoint a beautiful woman and Victoria—”
“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t.”
Sam grumbled his way to the back room and Clark left the house with a sappy grin on his face. For the first time in his life, he really felt like he was part of something. Not just a family, although Chris and Victoria definitely did that for him and Jace, but that he belonged here. On this farm. In Mistletoe.
Maybe even with Merry?
As he crested the hill, the photographer, Bonnie Rickets, had all the employees squished together with Victoria and Chris in the center, the rolling hills of Christmas tree rows in the background.
“Clark!” Chris called. “Come over here by Merry and Jace.”
Clark jogged up next to Merry and Chris, Jace leaning back against him. Chris put his arm around Clark and shook him. “I’m glad you’re here, son. Thank you for all your hard work.”
“You’re welcome, sir. I’m grateful I saw your ad.”
“Me too.”
“All right, squeeze together,” Bonnie ordered. “Clark, put your one hand behind Merry and the other on your son’s shoulder.”
