Page 65 of Chasing Fireflies

“But cold,” Sara says.

“You got a tree picked out yet?” the chief asks.

“Nope, just got here. Going to look around a bit.”

“Okay, son. You two have fun. I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.” He nods his head, and I touch the tip of my ball cap as they make their way to his truck. I see a big tree on the back of it, and Sara grabs my attention.

“Let’s go look,” she says, tugging me. We walk through the trees, looking and handholding. Sara is so cute with the way she tries to decide on picking out one, so I pull her behind a big tree and sneak a kiss that takes her breath away. Her lips taste like cherry chapstick, and her blue eyes are glassy from the cold wind.

“What was that for?” she asks me.

“For being you.” I smile and kiss the tip of her nose. “I got my Christmas tree. Let’s go home,” I say, looking down at her sweater.

She smiles and turns to look at the tree behind us. “Let’s get this one.”

“Okay.” After we pay for the tree and have it loaded onto the bed of the truck, I spot Mark and Leigh walking toward us.

“You got yourselves a big one,” Mark says.

“Sure do,” Sara agrees.

“Nice sweater.” Leigh smiles.

Sara smiles back. “It’s Christmas, guys. When else can you wear a sweater like this?”

I kiss her hair, and Mark laughs.

“You know Bear still needs a good home,” Leigh says.

“Who’s Bear?”

Sara sighs. “A cute Lab that was found behind Banner’s Bar.” I nod when she answers.

“I’m getting in the truck. This wind is insane,” Sara says. “Talk to y’all later.” She waves.

Leigh looks to me. “She’d do great with a dog, Cash. You should come by and see him. He’d be a perfect Christmas gift for her.”

“Now don’t go making them feel like they gotta get him, Leigh,” Mark says as I laugh.

“I’m just saying. He’s smart, cute, and Sara seemed to like him.”

“I may come down and take a look. We better get this tree on home.”

Mark nods. “Talk to you later, man.”

*

“Go open the door for me, baby,” I say as we jump out of the truck. I grab the big tree and haul it inside, leaving a trail of green pine needles. I place the tree upright as Sara leaves the room. I hear Old Blue Eyes singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and my very own Christmas tree comes walking back into the room.

“Here,” she says, handing me a beer. “I think we picked out a perfect one.” She smiles as she goes to twist the cap off her beer. She fails and hands it over to me. I switch with her and give her my already opened one.

“I think we did, too.” I put my arm around her and clink my beer against hers. “Here’s to many more Christmases with you.”

She smiles, and I look out the window and see the snow falling again. I take a swig of my beer and set it down on the coffee table.

“Is this where you want it?” I ask her.

“Yep.”

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