“You don’t like yours sweet?”
“Only so much sweet stuff I can handle in one day, Jo,” he replies under his breath, eyeing me up and down.
My cheeks are flaming at his blatant flirting, and I stare into my Styrofoam cup to hide my huge grin.
The tree farm is straight off a set of a Hallmark movie. Cheerful Christmas music plays from a speaker and twinkling lights are strung overhead between rows and rows of evergreens. A couple dressed as Santa and Mrs. Clause mingle about, talking with kids. The scent of pine and woodsmoke hangs in the air and the entire scene feels idyllic and perfect.
Jay and Abby lead the way, with Tyler and I falling into step behind. While we examine trees, Jay turns, walking backward explaining exactly how big he hopes our tree is. He spreads his arms out as wide as they’ll go.
“It has to fit in the living room,” I remind him.
“But it needs to touch the ceiling,” Jay counters.
He turns and walks forward, while Abby stops at every other tree to inspect it for bald spots.
I hazard a glance at Tyler to see that he’s wearing a contented smile.
“Thanks for coming with us, Tyler.”
He glances down at me, still smiling. “Thanks for inviting me. This feels like something I didn’t know I needed.”
“A Christmas tree farm?” I tease.
“No, being here with you three.” His tone is sincere, sparking a glimmer of hope in my heart, but I let his words hang, suspended in the pine-scented air between us.
We walk a little further in silence, the sounds of other families’ conversations a low hum around us. Three times—yes, I’m counting—his pinky brushes mine, and my body sings with excitement at the brief contact.
If I weren’t a big fat coward, and if it wouldn’t be weird in front of my kids who have never seen me with a man, I’d thread my fingers with his. But instead, I allow just the pinky contact for a fourth time.
“Found one!” Abby shouts, and we find her standing next to a beautiful Douglas fir. Jay crouches, inspecting the branches like he has a clue what to look for.
Tyler stands back, sizing it up and then looks at me for approval. “What do you think?”
“Think it’ll fit? Or is it too big?”
Tyler’s eyes cut to mine and he quirks an eyebrow. And now I know we’re both thinking of ourthat’s what she saidjoke from our night together. Thankfully, Jay is too young to catch on and Abby is oblivious, circling the tree.
I bite back a laugh and nod my approval.
“It’s perfect.”
Tyler jogs off to retrieve a handsaw from a nearby employee, and I wait with the kids, listening to Jay jabber on about everything on his Christmas list. His list is a mile long, and for the first time in a long time I have extra money, thanks to last minute shoppers in my Etsy shop.
Minutes later, Tyler returns, brandishing a handsaw in one hand and all the supplies to tie and wrap the tree. Usually an employee does all this for me, so it’s kind of nice having Tyler here to do it. What am I saying? It’s more than nice.
Pushing up his sleeves, he gets to work at the base, forearms flexing as he saws back and forth. My mouth waters at the sight, and I don’t even realize I’ve started to fan myself until Abby turns to me.
“What’s wrong with you? It’s not even warm out here?”
From the corner of my eye, I catch Tyler smirk, and I mumble a lie about appropriate clothing for a Christmas tree farm. Abby buys my excuse and Tyler goes back to sawing. This time, I force my eyes down to my shoes.
Tree down, Tyler hauls it up so it’s perched on his shoulder,and I am entirely too turned on for a family day at a Christmas tree farm. He leads the way, and the kids and I follow to the cashier stand. Tyler refuses to let me pay, despite my protests, and we head to his SUV, a successful day of tree shopping complete.
Tyler is opening the passenger door for me, but before he tugs the door handle, he leans in and rumbles low into my ear.
“Don’t worry, Jo. It would still fit.”
Thighs clenched together, even with my dang kids right here in the back seat, I ride along in silence, wondering what on earth is happening between Tyler and me.
