“No, I’m not. We’re going Christmas-tree farming. It’s a team-bonding activity.”
I get there early.I want to kiss Ellie under the snowy trees, want her all to myself. Maybe convince her to let me eat her out in the back of my truck.
Too bad half the team’s already there.
Cookie is clinging to Ellie. Ren is railing about the fact that he’s not allowed to shoot any of the squirrels wandering around in the snow.
“You are on parole—you’re not even supposed to have a gun,” Ellie scolds.
“You give her a little power, and suddenly she’s a damn yuppie,” Granny Murray gripes as she passes out homemade snacks to the players standing around the trees.
“Can I have more hot chocolate?” Jovi’s practically vibrating as Ellie parcels out more of what smells like extremely sweet peppermint hot chocolate.
Jonesy sprays canned whipped cream in his mouth.
“Hey! Other people have to use that.” Bramms shoves him to the ground, and Cookie snatches up the can of whipped cream.
Ellie seems a little breathless when she sees me. “Hot chocolate?” Ellie offers. “Seasonal cookie?”
“There are sandwiches too,” Carlsson says around a warm ham sandwich on a Hawaiian roll.
“It’s manual labor, so you need a little treat,” she says. Yeah, I want a fucking little treat, all right.
I eat the offered sandwich in two bites. The rest of them crowd around Harlowe as she doles out the sandwiches. “Save some for the rest of the team,” she warns as Bramms tries to take a second one.
“They should have shown up on time.”
“You’re all early,” I snarl, suddenly furious that I can’t kiss Ellie.
“She brought more of the cheese straws too,” Bramms says uncertainly.
“You liked those, Fletcher, didn’t you?” Ellie bends down to rummage around in her enormous thermal bag. She hands me a little cellophane bag tied with a neat red ribbon.
“Why’d you bring all these snacks?” I settle for shoving Cookie out of the way so I can stand next to her.
“We’re having a fun outing.” She shoos me closer to Cookie, who holds up his half-eaten pastry as she holds up her phone. “Cookie, smile,” Ellie coaxes.
I scowl at him. His mouth drops open in fear. Ellie snaps the photo and sighs. I shove Cookie toward Jovi.
Excitedly, she announces, “Everyone’s going to have more fun if there’s food involved.”
“Should have brought alcohol…” Then I stop myself as Zayne walks up. Thankfully, sober.
I should be happy that I’m out here with my idol, with my team, my winning NHL team. But all I want to do is cup her face and kiss her mouth while her cheeks are pink from the cold.
The Finn stomps up next to me, looks between Ellie and me, and says something in Finnish.
“What the hell are you looking at?” I scowl at him.
He just grins and steals one of my cheese straws and lets out another string of gibberish. The only word I catch is, inexplicably, “raccoon.”
“These are not for sharing,” I say loudly and slowly. “Get your own. Ziggy, where’s your Google Translate?”
Ellie claps her hands. Everyone shuts up and pays attention. “We need to find the perfect Christmas tree. Nothing scraggly. I want it nice and big. Sturdy. Thick.”
I blink at her. She stammers and is saved by Cookie.
“Are we getting a Christmas tree for your house?” Cookie raises his hand.
