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“I’ll handle that too, don’t you try going up that rickety excuse for stairs without me.”
“I can help,” Carl offers. “My sister Gail’s husband runs a farm that sells trees this time of year. I can get a great last-minute deal on the tree, delivery included.”
“Thank you boys, I’m sure you can figure out the logistics without me.” Mom beams at us both. “And now I really am off to bed. Thank you for a lovely evening, Carl.”
“Good night, Miss Tina. It was a pleasure as always.” Carl smiles.
“Don’t be a stranger, dear.” Mom winks at him, cutting her eyes meaningfully toward me, unable to resist a none-too-subtle nudge at matchmaking before making her way down the hall to her bedroom.
Carl watches her go, shaking his head with a bemused smile. “She sure is a force to be reckoned with.”
“She is.” I agree.
“Well, I should get going. We both have work in the morning.” Carl reluctantly tucks his guitar back into its case and the zipper sounds too loud as it seals the end of our evening together. I’m not ready for this to be over. And apparently neither is Carl, because he lingers, sipping his cold coffee. “Shall we make the tree farm our next Christmas date?” he asks tentatively.
“I’d love to.” I grin at him.
“Tomorrow on our lunch breaks?” Carl doesn’t try to hide his enthusiasm and neither do I.
“It’s a date.”
Chapter 7
Carl—December 20th
I’mnotsurewhatmade me decide to bring Nick out to the farm to cut a tree for his mother ourselves. The market where I pick him up on my lunch break has perfectly good trees for sale, already cut and ready to transport. But the selection gets a little sparse so close to the holiday, and this is more fun.
Okay. I know why. It’s romantic as all get out to do this together. I want to stroll through the winter wonderland of snow-laden branches, laughing and imagining each tree in a shared living room. I want to delight in that moment when the perfect tree catches both of our eyes and we talk over each other to declare, ‘that’s the one.’ The one we’ll be cuddled up next to on Christmas morning. Where we will tuck away gifts for each other with loving care.
I don’t expect to indulge in the entire fantasy. It’s not fair to expect Nick will want to sleep next to me when I made my no casual sex rule clear. It would be nice to wake up to someone in my bed on Christmas morning, but it’s too big of an ask for a fake date. And we haven’t really discussed exchanging gifts, so that’s probably out too.
No, I can’t live the elaborate fantasy spooling through my head on the short drive to the tree farm, but I can have tree shopping in the snow. A half hour spent picking something together to brighten the long winter nights.
My brother-in-law, Marcus, grins like the Cheshire cat when he sees me get out of Saint’s SUV with Nick. He greets us and explains the process of how to find and cut our tree for Nick’s benefit.
Marcus catches my eye to shoot me a thumbs up when Nick’s back is turned. My sisters are going to know I’m seeing someone by the time we leave. Heck, knowing Marcus and Gail, half the town will know by nightfall. That’s okay. Nick grew up here. He had to realize the entire town would gossip when he agreed to be my fake holiday fling. I’m just going to enjoy every magical moment while this lasts.
I twine our fingers and Nick takes that as a cue to lean in and kiss my cheek. Marcus looks like he’s just dying to call Gail with the news. Oh well, let him. Nick is adorable as he talks animatedly about the perfect tree he has in mind. He doesn’t release my hand as we turn toward the footpath Marcus points us toward.
We take the tarp, thick gloves, and bow saw that Marcus provides. Then we tromp along the worn snowy path past the rows and rows of young trees near the parking area. Those ones aren’t quite large enough to cut yet. The tallest only comes up to chest height.
The snow is less trampled once we venture further into the trees. We reach the blue flags that mark the Fraser firs in the two meter height range and slow our pace to really examine each tree.
A flash of red catches my eye and a cardinal trills at us as it alights in the branches at the top of a gorgeous tree. The boughs are full, forming a gorgeous cone, and it’s absolutely perfect.
“How about that one?” Nick asks.
“There!” I exclaim, laughing when I realize each of us is pointing at the same stunning tree where a second bright red cardinal lands next to the first and sidles in close. I’d love to take a page out of the birds’ book, snuggling out in the snow.
“It’s perfect!” I beam at him.
“Wonder if it comes with the cute little lovebirds.” Nick grins back at me.
“Gay love birds.” I point out. “Did you know the female birds are a dull brown color? So all the holiday greeting cards are gay or bi couples?”
“Mom mentioned that when she showed me her cardinal ornaments and explained why she made half of them brown.”
“Oh, right! I forgot she was the one who told me that. She gave a pair of the brown ornaments to my sister Eliza and her wife as a wedding present ages ago.”
