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“Ask what?”
I fought back the urge to nervously chew on my bottom lip. “If you wanted to come with me while I go choose a tree,” I replied.
He frowned. “It’s only the first day of December.”
“Which is when I routinely pick and then decorate one.”
“Every year?”
“Every year.” It was a tradition I’d picked up from my mom, who I hadn’t seen since Thanksgiving. As pre-agreed, Dax and I had first gone to his parents’ home for dinner and then later had eaten dessert with my family.
Both meals had gone smoothly. My mom had been as warm and welcoming toward Dax as his parents now always were to me. The same couldn’t be said for my dad or Ollie when it came to Dax, but they hadn’t glared at him even once. I considered that progress.
I had the feeling my dad had behaved himself in the hope that Dax and I would then have Christmas dinner at my parents’ home this year. But I hadn’t taken them up on their offer, because I didn’t trust that neither Dane nor Ollie would make shitty comments once the alcohol started flowing—particularlymy brother, who tended to be brutally honest at such times.
Dax’s parents had issued the same invitation to us, but we’d politely turned it down. There would have been a huge fuss if we’d agreed to eat at his parents’ table when we’d spent most of Thanksgiving day with them. We’d placated everyone by promising we’d still pay them a visit on Christmas.
“Does this mean you’re not working today?” he asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“No, I’m still going in. But I’ll only be staying until lunchtime. Then I’ll be heading to a tree farm.” I could tell by his unenthusiastic expression that he was going to veto accompanying me. It was no shocker—he had nothing against this particular holiday, he just didn’t feel compelled to throw himself into any celebratory activities.
I got it. I respected it. And I wouldn’t want him to be part of things he’d find no actual enjoyment in. That wasn’t what the holidays were about anyway. But, with how much I’d come to enjoy us doing things together, my stomach sank in disappointment all the same.
Having no intention of letting it show, I gave a casual shrug. “It’s fine if you’d rather sit this one out. I know you’re super busy, and I know the thought of Christmas doesn’t exactly get you excited. I just wanted to make the offer, since this is your home and I figured it was possible you might want some input. But if you do want input without having to make the trip, I can text you pictures of trees I like and you can then tell me which you prefer,” I offered.
He watched me steadily for a long moment. “Do you usually do this alone?”
“No, I generally rope someone into coming with me. Usually one of my sisters or Ollie unless—” I stopped speaking and twisted my mouth.
“Unless you have a boyfriend at the time,” he guessed, the warm languidness in his eyes beginning to cool.
“Uh-huh. But I often tended to be single during the month of December.”
“Why?”
“No reason. It wasn’t a purposeful thing. It just regularly turned out that way.” For the first time in years, I wouldn’t be alone for the holidays. I’d wake up Christmas Day to someone sleeping beside me.
Though my relationship with Grayden had been serious, we hadn’t been together Christmas morning. He’d rightfully spent the night before in his own home with his daughters—he and Felicity used to spend alternate Christmas Eves with them.
Dax exhaled a long sigh. “I’ll go with you.”
I blinked, taken aback. “You will?”
“Yes.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really.”
I felt my lips part. “Now I feel bad.”
His brow pinched. “You feel bad?”
“It’s just that I can quite clearly see that you don’t want to go, and I don’t like that I’m pulling you into something you’d prefer to not do. Whyareyou agreeing to come?”
He pushed off his elbows. “Just because I don’t have many personal traditions doesn’t mean I don’t understand how important they are to people. If this is something you do every year, it’s clearly important to you—I respect that. And I might as well get on board, since it has now become my tradition by virtue of us being married.”
I cleared my throat and plucked at the coverlet. “Oh. Well. Than—”
