Page 33 of Hashtag Holidate
My cheeks continued to burn as I tried to focus on the technical aspects of our shoot. The clearing we were approaching would actually provide decent lighting—what photographers call “God rays” were streaming through the pine branches as the snowflakes danced in the beams of light. Despite my aggravation, my brain automatically began composing the shots I wanted.
“We should set up the tripod here,” I said, changing the subject. “The light’s good, and there’s enough space to get the full tree-cutting sequence without having to move the equipment.”
Adrian nodded, looking around with a more professional eye. “The background is nice, too. No distractions, just trees and snow.”
For a moment, we were in sync—two professionals evaluating the same scene. I’d learned over the past couple of days that beneath his carefully curated exterior, Adrian Hayes actually knew his shit when it came to visual composition. He might not have approached photography the same way I did, but his eye was undeniably good.
I began unlocking the tripod legs, my fingers already stiff from the cold.
“We should work quickly,” I said, nodding toward the darkening sky to the northwest. “That doesn’t look friendly.”
Adrian followed my gaze, his expression momentarily concerned before the professional mask slipped back into place. “All the more reason to find the perfect tree immediately.”
“We’ve seen at least three perfect trees already,” I reminded him.
“Those were adequate trees,” he corrected, stepping carefully through the snow in his designer boots. “I’ll know the perfect one when I see it.”
I finished setting up the tripod, my breath forming clouds in the increasingly frigid air. Adrian wandered a few yards away,examining pines with the critical eye of a diamond appraiser. Even from behind, his silhouette against the snowy backdrop was striking—the tailored coat emphasizing his broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, blond hair catching the weak streaks of sun in a way that warmed the scene.
I caught myself staring and quickly looked away. This was exactly the problem with our so-called “chemistry” that everyone in town was gossiping about. Adrian Hayes was objectively attractive, and I’d have to be dead not to notice. But noticing and acting were different things. And I had no intention of becoming another chapter in the Adrian Hayes Travelogue of Temporary Flings.
“Maddox!” His excited voice broke through my thoughts. “This is it. This is the one!”
I turned to see him standing beside an enormous blue spruce, at least eight feet tall and nearly as wide. It was, I had to admit, a spectacular specimen—full and symmetrical, with the perfect conical shape of a Christmas tree straight out of a storybook.
“Of course you’d pick the biggest tree in the lot,” I called back, unable to keep the amusement from my voice. “Compensating for something, Hayes? Your poor little budgie, perhaps?”
His delighted grin only widened. “Trying to represent my enormous Christmas spirit,” he replied, spreading his arms as if to embrace the massive tree. “What do you think? Is she a beauty or what?”
I approached, taking a few quick snapshots before assessing the tree with a critical eye. “It’s too big for your rental cabin,” I pointed out practically. “The ceilings are only eight feet. You’d have to cut the top off.”
“How dare you suggest mutilation,” he gasped, placing a protective hand on the tree’s branches. “We’ll make it work. Every perfect tree deserves the perfect home.”
“And who’s going to drag this monster back to the truck? It weighs at least a hundred pounds.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that what I have you for, mountain man? To do all the manly lifting while I stand here and look pretty?”
“You’re hilarious,” I said, even though I was already moving my tripod closer. The tree was a showstopper, and the footage would look amazing. “Just remember this conversation when you’re covered in sap and pine needles.”
“I’ll consider it a rustic spa treatment,” he quipped, brushing snow off a branch. “Pine-scented exfoliation. Very on-brand for Nordique. It’ll be all the rage once I mention it. You’ll see.”
I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me. For all his polished exterior, Adrian’s humor had a way of catching me off guard—little glimpses of a real person beneath the influencer facade.
As I set up the camera angle, I watched him circle the tree, genuine excitement lighting up his face. There was something almost childlike in his enthusiasm that made it difficult to maintain my irritation. Maybe that was the real danger of Adrian Hayes—not just the perfect face or the sharp wit, but those flashes of authenticity that made me wonder which version was the real him.
“Alright, Hayes,” I said, adjusting the focus. “You found your perfect tree. Now comes the fun part.”
He turned to me with a brilliant smile. “Posing majestically beside it?”
“Cutting it down.” I reached for the axe I’d brought, holding it up with a challenging grin. “Unless you’d prefer to use your credit card?”
His expression faltered slightly, eyes widening as he stared at the axe in my hand. “I, uh… hadn’t exactly planned that part out.”
“You mean you’ve never cut down a Christmas tree before?” I asked in mock surprise, already knowing the answer.
Adrian’s perfect confidence slipped just a fraction. “Not personally, no.”
“Well then,” I said, unable to suppress a slightly wicked smile as I held out the axe. “You’re about to have another authentic Legacy Christmas experience, influencer boy.”
