Page 63 of Her Counterfeit Christmas
Safety in numbers and all that.
“Actually—”
I don’t wait to hear how he’ll continue that sentence. I speed walk to Tori. She’s negotiating with Sadie over what ornaments to purchase for the tree going in their bedroom.
It’s strange how our conversation about fashion on the drive over smoothed out any issues she had with me when we first met. Fashion as art is one thing we can agree on.How much fashion should cost is not. She comes across as a rich snob on first acquaintance, but she’s actually quite fun to talk to.
“Tori, do you and Sadie want to go on a tour of the farm with me and Owen?”
She points to her boots. “Jimmy Choo.”
That’s all the answer I need. Everyone else in our group is otherwise occupied … except for Brady, who has found a quiet corner to read. I head over and stop in front of his chair.
“Brady, do you want to come on a tour of the farm with me and Owen?”
He shrugs. “Sure.” But after he stands, something over my shoulder catches his attention.
I follow his gaze to Owen. Owen quickly stuffs his hands in his coat pockets, turns his head away from us, and whistles.
“Actually,” Brady says. “I’m at an exciting part in my book. Sorry.” He sits down and goes back to reading.
I meet Owen in the middle of the barn. “What did you signal to Brady?”
“Nothing.” He looks too innocent for me to believe him. For whatever reason, he doesn’t want his brother to come with us. “Ready for the tour?”
I want to go. Owen keeps inviting me to fun activities, and I can’t ever say no. It’s a problem. One I’ll worry about later.
“Yes, I’m ready,” I say.
We meet the tour guide at the barn exit. As I feared, it’s just me and Owen.
“Hi,” our guide says to us. “Welcome to Trolley Farms!I’m Max, and I’ll be taking you around the farm today. I took some notes, but since you’re the first two who have ever asked for a tour, I’m going to wing it. Let me know how I do.”
I glance over at Owen. His cheeks have the lightest blush.
“You don’t do tours regularly?” I ask Max.
“No. We’ve honestly never thought of it until he,” Max points to Owen, “called and asked for one. If you enjoy it, maybe I’ll schedule a few for next year.”
Owen’s cheeks turn a brighter red.
I give him the side eye. “Interesting.”
I may appear annoyed, but in fact, I’m flattered that Owen asked for a tour for me. I can’t think of the last time any man has gone to this much trouble for a date. Er … since this isn’t a date and just two friends hanging out, I’ve never had aguy friendput in any effort. My chest grows warm at his thoughtfulness.
“If you’ll follow me,” Max says. “We’ll start at the spot whereChristmas Seasoningsfilmed the scene where they went mushroom hunting. There aren’t real mushrooms, but I hid a fake one and whoever finds it wins any one ornament from our shop.”
A fake mushroom hunt! With a Christmas ornament as a prize. When I win, I will pick the largest glass ornament in their shop. I’ll knit a special cozy so it doesn’t break on the flight home.
We walk along a path toward a forest of pine trees.
“You better not let me win,” I tell Owen. “I want real competition.”
“I would never.”
I don’t believe him, and I glare to show him how much I mean what I said.
He holds up his hand in surrender. “Okay. Real competition.” He steps closer, narrows his eyes, and hardens his lips “There is no way you’re finding that mushroom. My eyesight is twenty-twenty with contacts. I am winning the prize, so don’t think I won’t.”
