When we finally pulled apart, I found myself smiling again.
"Come on," he said.
"Where are we going?"
"The Christmas tree farm."
I chuckled. "You say that like there aren't thousands of Christmas tree farms."
"Trust me."
"You've been here before?"
"No."
I looked at him. "Then how do you know where you're going?"
A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I made a phone call."
"To?"
"Tannen. He also gave me a list of places we're apparently required to visit before we leave town."
I laughed. "Required?"
"His word, not mine. And after twenty minutes of directions, recommendations, and a warning that I'd regret skipping the tree farm, I decided arguing wasn't worth it."
There was something ridiculously attractive about a man who could be both spontaneous and prepared.
Unfortunately, I was beginning to discover there were a lot of things about Thane Hale that were unfairly attractive, including the way he reached for my hand before leading me toward the door as though it was the most natural thing in the world.
On the drive, I learned we were heading to Kincaid Christmas Tree Farm. The ride was short, but it gave me enough time to notice that Juniper Hollow seemed to operate on an entirely different schedule than Seattle. Nobody appeared to be in a hurry. People strolled along the sidewalks carrying shopping bags and cups of coffee. Cars actually stopped for pedestrians. More than once, I caught myself staring out the window simply because the town felt so different from the city we'd left behind.
Then we rounded a bend in the road.
I sat forward in my seat. "Oh."
Ahead of us, the Kincaid Christmas Tree Farm stretched across a wide expanse of land, glowing beneath thousands of lights. A massive Christmas tree towered over the center of the grounds. Its branches were wrapped in strands of gold and white that sparkled against the darkening sky. Booths lined the pathways in every direction; their roofs draped with garlandsand ribbons while Christmas music drifted through hidden speakers.
Thane laughed softly beside me. "That good?"
I tore my eyes away long enough to look at him. "You knew it looked like this."
"I had a suspicion."
"A suspicion?" I gestured toward the windshield. "There's a tree out there big enough to guide ships through a storm."
His grin widened. "That's a yes, then?"
“It’s definitely a yes.” I was smiling too hard to sound annoyed.
The moment we stepped out of the SUV, the farm surrounded us with sound and color. Children darted between booths, clutching candy canes nearly as long as their arms. Couples wandered beneath strings of lights overhead. Somewhere nearby, somebody was selling roasted nuts because the sweet scent drifted through the cold evening air every few seconds. I felt alive.
The place felt alive.
Nobody seemed stressed or rushed. People were simply enjoying themselves. A group of children raced past us, laughing.
One little girl nearly collided with Thane before the woman, probably her mother, caught her arm and apologized. Thane immediately crouched to the child's height and assured her she hadn't done anything wrong.
