“Below sledding,” I say.
He gives a sharp nod. “If you guess where we’re going, do you want me to tell you? Or do you want me to keep it from you?”
“I want it to be a surprise.” Then I laugh. “But I’ll still keep trying to guess.”
“Then how about I just shoot down anything you guess, even if you get it right?”
We drive another twenty minutes, before I notice a sign for a Christmas tree farm. My stomach flutters, but I refuse to let myself get excited. Then Alex turns onto a snow-packed narrow road.
He shoots me a look, and I’m dying to ask him, but I don’t say anything until the road dead-ends at a snow-packed parking lot that only has two other cars.
I stare out the windshield at a man setting out orange cones next to a building that looks like a gift shop. “Why are we at a Christmas tree farm?”
He puts the car in park and turns to me. “I know you’ve only had one cup of coffee and half of mine”—a grin stretches across his face—“but I thought you’d be able to figure this one out by now.”
I shake my head. “But why? Your parents already have a Christmas tree. A gorgeous one.”
“I know,” he says, “but I talked to Mom this morning, and we both think it would be great if we got a small one for our room. And then you could go to a Christmas tree farm. Surely that’s on your list.”
I gasp, certain I heard him wrong. “We’re getting a real Christmas tree for our room?”
“Yep. Just for us,” he says, his smile turning soft. “And we can go to sleep looking at it.”
“It’s hard to sleep when your eyes are open,” I tease.
He taps my nose. “Don’t be so literal. Are you ready to cut down a tree?”
I’m already opening the door and hopping out of the car.
Alex goes to the back of the car and opens the hatch. He grabs a thermos and hands it to me. “Mom made hot chocolate.”
Then something else hits me. “But it’s Christmas Eve, Alex.”
“I can read a calendar,” he says with a laugh as he pulls out a collapsible wagon. “And Christmas Eve is just in time, right? I told you our task was time sensitive.” He drops a saw and a small ax into the wagon, along with a bundle of twine, then closes the hatch. “Let’s go find us a tree.”
We walk toward the trees, Alex pulling the wagon, me holding the thermos. The wind is cold, and stings my cheeks, but we trek through an already picked-over section. We both agree to be on the lookout for a small tree, about four feet tall. He cracks a joke about Christmas Vacation, and that it’s my job to make sure there aren’t any living creatures burrowed inside.
“Not it.” My grin stretches my cheeks. “Isn’t it your job as my boyfriend to look for wild creatures?”
“We should make a list of my duties,” he teases. “Sharing my coffee and evicting wild creatures are obviously included.”
“Those seem like givens. What kind of boyfriend wouldn’t save his girlfriend from a wild animal?”
“If a bear jumps out of the woods, I promise to protect you with my life. But if a squirrel attacks.” He shoots me an impish grin. “You’re on your own.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Are you afraid of squirrels, Alex?”
He shrugs. “Superman has his kryptonite. I have squirrels.”
I laugh, a full body laugh. “Okay, you protect me from bears, and I’ll protect you from squirrels.”
His grin softens, and his gaze linger on me with a warmth that makes my stomach tumble. “Deal”
We reach a section of trees that meet our criteria and find one we both approve of.
Alex grabs the ax out of the wagon and kneels on the ground next to the tree, then looks up at me. “You look like you’re freezing. You should drink some of the hot chocolate.”
I unscrew the top, pour some into the cap, and take a sip. He chops at the trunk. After he whacks it several times, he sits upright and unfastens his coat, tossing it in the wagon.
