Page 38 of The Love Penalty

“Of course. Hey,“ he starts, looking like he might come closer to me, but he stops himself, “are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been a little jumpy.”

“Fine. It’s fine,” I say, my voice more high pitched than usual. I cough and then try again, “Seriously, Bobbert. I’ve just had a lot on my mind I guess, but I’m okay.”

He searches my face and I must placate him somehow because he drops the subject. We have breakfast together, feed the cats, and then we leave for the tree farm.

We pickedup Alice and both of Robbie’s parents on the way, while his brother Michael with his wife and kids are driving separately. We somehow need to fit three Christmas trees in Robbie’s truck and he’s convinced it’s possible. Even though his mom keeps saying she wants an 11-foot tree.

As soon as we park and get out of the car, Alice immediately pulls me up ahead to chat under the excuse of getting hot cocoa.

“So, did you tell him?” She and I have been texting since last night and I may have mentioned my plan to her. I alsomentioned how I am bailing on said plan because there’s no way in hell I’m confessing my feelings in front of his whole family.

I groan, “No.”

“Why? Just tell him. Trust me, he won’t care if anyone else is around.”

No, but I do.If he rejects me, which I have thought about plenty last night while wide awake, I will take it in stride. I will tell him I understand—even if I won’t—and ask if he’d be willing to stay friends—which might actually be the death of me—but I won’t do all that in front of his family. Because seeing just a glimpse of what they have, it’s made me crave that connection so much more. And if I have to say goodbye to them too, it will break my heart.

“He’s planned so many wonderful things, I just want to do the same for him. I want to plan the perfect confession and date and surprise him with it. So please, Alice, please keep this to yourself,” I beg her in hushed tones.

She squeezes my arm and throws her head back on a sigh but says, “Fine, but you better do it soon. I want you both to be happy. And for the record, you could confess your feelings in a Taco Bell while you’re chewing on a burrito, with cheese all over your face and Robbie would still think the world of you.”

That gets a laugh out of me. She really is Robbie’s sister.

Once we get hot cocoa for everyone, and the men each select a handsaw, we get in line to wait for the tractor. I’ve never been to a tree farm before so I don’t know what to expect, but Robbie gently pulls me to his side and says, “Once the tractor gets here, we all get on it. Then they take us out to separate sections where they grow all different kinds of trees: pines, firs, spruces. They yell out the areas as we go and we request to get off. Once we’re done cutting our trees, we pull it to the road and wait for the tractor to pick us back up.”

“This is all seriously cool,” I say, admiring the scene around us. There are so many families of all sizes, couples with kids, couples with dogs, everyone gathered to pick out their perfect tree for the holiday.

Robbie brings his gloved hand to mine and holds it. I wish it wasn’t cold enough already to have to wear gloves so I could feel his skin on mine.I’ll take what I can get.I look up from our hands at him and give him a big smile.He makes me so happy.

“Ready to help me find the most perfect tree so we can decorate it when we get home?”

I nod.

Home.

Why is it starting to feel like he could be my home?

After a bumpy tractor ride,we hop off in the blue spruce section and we all start walking around, looking for the best looking trees. I can’t say any of these trees are in bad shape. They’re all perfectly full, although they are different shapes and sizes. Mr. Elliot says to look for the way the tree leans as well when picking out the perfect one.

Alice splits off with her parents, and Michael, Tangela, and the girls split off as well, which leaves me and Robbie.

Alone.

As we walk through the rows of trees, I notice there are not as many people around. It’s blissfully silent. “I thought there would be more people here.”

“Blue spruce is not as popular because it’s so prickly. Most people like the firs, which have softer needles. They’re missing out though, I think.”

“Oh yeah?” I ask, bemused.

He shrugs but says, “I think even though something is prickly on the surface, it doesn’t mean it can’t bring joy to someone.” He gives me an innocent look with wide eyes. He’s messing with me.

I gently push him to the side and shake my head. “Ugh, you’re the worst, Bobbert. And I’m notthatprickly.”

“Not anymore. Not since I’ve cracked the surface,” he says in a chuckle, and I can’t help but join in. Hell, he’s right. I’ve always been too guarded and afraid to let people in.

I’m glad we’re back to a point where we can laugh together and banter over nothing. I was worried I made things too awkward with my silence and that he’d start to pull away. But he doesn’t. So I loop my hand around his free arm and say, “Let’s go find that perfect tree. Do you think Caramel will try to climb it?”

“Ha, no. He’s learned his lesson in the past, it hurts his fragile little paws.”

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