Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 93284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 466(@200wpm)___ 373(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
“Ready.” Cheyenne said into my back.
Ember hopped into the back seat of the suburban, and we dropped her off at the front of the garage so she could stay with Max for a little while.
“Bye, guys.” she said as she slammed the door.
“Where to?” I asked her.
She gave me directions, and we arrived at the tree farm in record time. There was a bonfire roaring in the open area with hot chocolate stand, a Santa sitting on his big green chair, and a checkout stand further back. There was a sign that said feel free to pick a tree and under it saws hung on the hook.
I grabbed a saw, Cheyenne’s hand and we set out to find the perfect tree.
CHEYENNE
“I want this one.” I said to Sam.
“I don’t think this one will fit.” He said to me while eyeing the tree.
“It’s perfect. I want this one. We will make it work.” I said back.
It really was perfect. It was darker than most of the other trees. It also was poofier and didn’t have any bald spots.
“I don’t think this one is for sale. It doesn’t have a pink tag like the others.” He said warily.
I looked all around the tree, but didn’t find one of the pink ribbons that were tied to the other trees that were for sale. So instead I walked over to a tree that had a ribbon and stole it off of it. I tied it to my tree and waited, tapping my foot as Sam stared back at me.
“I’m not sure that was allowed.” He finally said.
We had been looking for nearly an hour, my back hurt, my feet hurt, and I wanted to sit down. I marched over to him, grabbed the saw from his hand, and then stopped beside the tree thinking about how best to get this done.
“I’ve got it.” Sam said sounding exasperated.
He dropped down onto his knees, and then down to his stomach so he could crawl underneath the tree and started sawing away. The muscles of his back bunched and flexed with each forward and back motion. My mouth started watering.
My sex drive didn’t go down like some women’s did during their pregnancies. Mine seemed to skyrocket, and I was sure that Sam was pretty tired of having to practically service me. Our fight this morning stemmed from me wanting sex, and I was about to get some when he was called away.
Normally it wouldn’t be that big of a deal, but my hormones were wonky and didn’t care whether it was rational or not. I cried for nearly an hour after Sam had left, not that I would be letting him know that. He didn’t need me to add to his worries that he was carrying around.
The tree fell over, and Sam stood up while wiping off dirt and pine needles off the front of his shirt. He handed me the saw, and then picked the tree up like it weighed nothing. We walked to the front again, and Sam dropped the tree beside the others that were waiting to be shaken then stuffed into that little bag that would compact it down to a more manageable size.
“Do you want to sit in Santa’s lap?” Sam asked jokingly.
I smiled and then walked over to the Santa and waited in line. I glanced over my shoulder to see Sam with his hands on his hips staring up at the sky like he was contemplating not killing me. Santa gestured me forward when my eyes returned to him, and I walked to him. He patted his lap, gesturing for me to take a seat.
I didn’t even hesitate. I plopped my fat ass down into his lap, wrapping one of my arms around his neck.
“And what do you want for Christmas?” Santa asked me.
I glanced over at Sam who was watching me with a smile on his face. He was so handsome. I didn’t know what I did to deserve him, but I thanked God every day for him. He was wearing a red t-shirt, worn denim jeans, and black combat boots.
I turned back to the fake Santa and said “I just wanted to sit in your lap. My husband made a sarcastic comment asking if I was going to sit in your lap, so I decided to do it.”
Santa laughed, gestured with his head and asked “Is that him?”
“Yep.” I said.
We spoke for a few more minutes, took a picture and then I headed back over to Sam who had just gone to pay for the tree. I walked up next to him in line and wrapped my arm around him.
“I’m hungry.” I said to him handing him the picture of Santa and me.
He looked at the picture and smiled, and then stuffed it into his back pocket. He paid for the tree, and we walked back to the truck, grabbing the tree on the way.
“Are you going to try to put the tree on top of the truck or inside?” I asked him.
“On top. And it’s a SUV not a truck.” He said laughingly.
I rolled my eyes. This was a normal argument with us. I called everything that wasn’t a car a truck, and he called everything by name, or type of vehicle it was. I explained to him that in Texas that was how we talked, we weren’t much for correctness down here. He said that was just weird. I told him that he was weird since he was from up North.
“Are we going to get into this discussion again, really?” I asked him.
“Yep.” He said, popping the p.
“Fine. What are your arguments today?” I asked him.
“A coke, is a coke. Not any type of soft drink.” Sam said.
“Listen up. A coke is a coke. But it could also be a Dr. Pepper. Just because you don’t like how things are laid down here, doesn’t mean you can tease me about it. Just suck it up. When I ask you to get me a coke, you, in turn, need to ask me what type of coke. Just do it, it will be easier.” I said to him.