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“Why aren’t you wearing a scarf?” I ask as I catch up with her, unwinding mine to place around her neck.
“I didn’t get a chance since you went all Neanderthal on me and insisted we go to the hospital.” Her full mouth twitches with a smile, softening her words.
That smile does all kinds of things to my body—namely, my cock, which is swelling behind my zipper. “I wasn’t about to take any chances with you.”
“Right. Why would you?” she mutters so quietly I almost miss it.
I frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Ooh! I think I’ve found it!” she squeaks in excitement, ignoring my question.
She’s looking at the fluffiest Christmas tree I’ve ever seen. Its branches are full and lush, and it has a perfect, even shape.
“It does look good,” I admit.
We pay for the tree, and Charity says something about fetching a staff member to help load it on the truck. I shake my head and pretend it isn’t as heavy as it looks as I load it onto my truck by myself, nearly giving myself a hernia.
I secure the tree, and we’re about to climb into the truck when Charity’s head snaps around.“Oh, my God, I forgot about the Magic Beanstalk!” Her blue eyes light up as they land on the truck parked outside the store. “I knew I could smell Christmas cocoa. It’s the best cocoa in the—" She breaks off, looking at her watch. “We don’t have time.” She casts her eyes down, looking sad for a second before shrugging and sliding into the truck.
I can’t stand the disappointment she tries to shrug off. “Woah, there. What’s an extra five minutes?”
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and my shaft twitches again. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. And I could use a hot drink. But we’ll have to drink it in your truck on the way to the store.”
I nod. “Fair enough.”
The queue is short, and within a few minutes, Charity is ordering a medium Gingerbread House for herself and a large Peppermint Chocolate for me.
And she’s right. It is delicious.
“Why don’t we get this all year round?” I demand, surprise thickening my words as whipped cream coats my top lip.
She laughs. “They wouldn’t taste so amazing if we could spoil ourselves every day.”
She closes her eyes, savoring the warm spices of her drink. I lick the cream from my lips and open the truck door for her to climb in. She thanks me and gets herself comfortable, placing her frothy drink in the cup holder between the seats.
“Where now?” I ask.
“You know the big store about twenty minutes from here?”
I think for a moment and groan. “Bevans?”
“That’s the one.” She grins.
Bevans is renowned for going all out at Christmas. Lights, grottos, more lights, people dressed as elves, music, fake snow, and lots of fucking cheer.
Ugh.
“You promised. It’s the best and closest place for decorations and lights for that beast of a tree.” She gestures to the top of the windshield, where the top of the tree overhangs the roof of my truck.
“This is madness,” I grunt, but her musical laugh pulls the corners of my mouth into a reluctant smile.
* * *
Charity
I grab a cart and begin filling it with boxes of colorful decorations. Ribbons and bows, little boxes wrapped to look like Christmas gifts, tiny angels, and a huge star for the top of the tree. Box after box of warm golden lights follow the decorations—I ensure I have plenty. Hopefully, they’ll last for years since they’ll only be up for a few hours at a time.
“You sure know how to do Christmas,” Ryder says from beside me as we place everything on the conveyor belt and prepare to pay.
