Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 38149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 191(@200wpm)___ 153(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Cameron met me in front of a row of eight-foot noble firs. He fussed with his red scarf, then set his hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”
I widened my eyes in a universal “yeah right,” but decided to let it go, inclining my chin toward the trees meaningfully. “You have a few options here. Douglas, noble, balsam, blue spruce, and Fraser fir. A few varietals are precut, but you can chop down your own tree, if you’d prefer. And before you ask how a non-elf knows this stuff, I worked here during the holidays from the time I was thirteen till my freshman year in college.”
“You’re full of surprises this morning. You’re more of a holiday elf than you let on,” he teased.
“Fuck off and choose a damn tree,” I huffed without heat. I strode ahead of Cameron, hiding my smile in the collar of my jacket when he guffawed merrily behind me.
We spent the next fifteen minutes haggling over size and type, twisting the trees on their trunks to make sure they didn’t have any egregious bald spots.
Cameron snickered lightly. “Christ, we sound like a couple of assholes critiquing gentlemen at a gay bar. Too bald, too skinny…”
“Too green?”
This time his laughter erupted from somewhere deep in his chest, spilling between us till it was practically impossible not to join in. Next thing I knew, I was grinning at him like a fool. And this was what had attracted me to him the night we’d met. Maybe I was easy, but a man with a good sense of humor was my kryptonite.
It was no wonder I’d sidled his way and struck up a conversation. Or had he approached me? The details were fuzzy, but the feeling was still there. Something warm and potent and— Shit.
No perving over my employer.
“You’re a tough customer. I should be flattered that you deigned to speak to me at the bar in Elmwood,” I snarked.
“Ha. That had more to do with lighting than anything.”
I flipped him off, though honestly, I kind of loved that we’d moved beyond the awkward and could joke about our one-nighter. It made me think he might be someone I’d be interested in if life were different. Aka, if he wasn’t semi famous and I wasn’t…me.
“You’re hysterical.”
Cameron grinned. “Only by accident. I think we can narrow the tree choices between these two.”
I pointed at the noble fir. “That one.”
“You seem awfully sure.”
“I am. And I’m gonna share a trade secret with you,” I added in a hushed tone. “The best trees on this lot tend to be the noble firs. I don’t know what’s in the soil, but they’re beautiful. The needles are thick and green, and with daily water, they usually hold up through the season. Locals here only buy the nobles and leave the spruces and balsams for the out-of-towners.”
He cocked his head, studying me intently. “Thanks for the tip. Looks like you just sold me a tree.”
“Hmph. Too bad I don’t get a commission on it anymore,” I snarked, slipping my hand through the needles to pick it up by the trunk and haul it toward the register.
“Joey Linton! Is that you?” A pint-sized curly-haired blond jumped out of nowhere, throwing her arms around me the second I leaned the tree against the counter.
“Hey, Lena. How’s it going?”
“Same ’ol, same ’ol.” She beamed a sunny smile, massaging her round belly.
“When are you gonna pop that kid out?” I asked, shoving my hands into my pockets.
“I’ve got five months to go, but I don’t mind. I feel good now. Not a trace of morning sickness. Did Billy tell you how bad I had it?”
“Yeah, he mentioned it. Or maybe Tony did. Glad you’re feeling better.”
“Speaking of Tony, he texted me thirty minutes ago to tell me he’d had a Joe Linton sighting. The only Linton I ever see is your mama, who I must say is lookin’ darn good. She was at the coffee shop this morning and—oh! I’m so sorry. Where are my manners? I’m Lena Monaghan.” She thrust her gloved hand at Cameron and proceeded to shake the hell out of his. “You’re the author.”
“Cam Warren. Pleased to meet you.”
Lena smiled. “You too. I’m such a fan. And I believe you just hired my brother, Tony, to fix your roof.”
“That’s right. Joe is handling the details, though,” he replied politely.
I caught Lena’s confused expression and added, “Like a contractor.”
“Ahh! And the Christmas tree?” She held up a hand and winked at Cameron. “Hot tip…this guy is the Scrooge. Or he used to be. Maybe he’s turned over a new leaf.”
“Don’t go spreading rumors, pipsqueak. I have a truck, and Mr. Warren was pretty desperate to get his tree up.” I hiked my thumb in Cameron’s direction and somehow avoided chuckling when he mumbled something rude under his breath.