Page 58 of The Bright Side of Christmas
As seems to be happening often lately, my eyes were opened.
“Nope,” I say, giddy to give him the news. “Free all day.”
He looks at me, impressed, knowing how rare that is for me, before he pulls me in to press a kiss to my lips, almost like he’s proud of me.
“Where should we go?”
I bite my lip, looking anywhere but at him.
“Um,” I start, my heart pounding. “So, we could go to Meyers Grocery. They have a small selection in their parking lot…or we could go to one of the home improvement stores and scavenge their stock…”
He scans my face, tipping his head and reading between the lines as he always seems to be able to do. “But…?”
“But…” I sigh. “But my parents would probably kill me if they found out. They own a tree farm, and that's where everyone gets their trees. It’s a whole thing—chop down the tree, a little spot for cocoa, and it’s all crazy-decorated, of course. I promise I’m not trying to push meeting the parents or anything, it’s just a small town, as you know. And news travels fast and—” Nerves are eating at me, and I’m rambling now, but my words are stopped with warm hands on my jaw and Adam pulling me in close to press his lips to mine.
It’s soft and sweet and quick, silencing me before he rests his forehead to mine.
“We’ll go to your family’s farm, Wren.”
“I don’t want to be pushy, I?—”
“Are you mine?” he asks for the second time today.
This time, it makes my pulse pound. With the way he’s holding me, the way he’s looking at me, it feels more intimate, more important—a bigger question than those three words.
“Yes,” I whisper.
“Then it’s going to happen one way or another. Better to do it now when we have a reason to be there, right?”
I bite my lip, seeing the truth in his words, before nodding. “Yeah, I guess.”
“Then we’ll go tomorrow. Get me a tree. But you have to help me get the stuff to decorate it and put it up, okay?”
My chest fills with warmth. “That I can do.”
TWENTY-ONE
We’re in the car for maybe two minutes as we take the ten-minute drive up the mountain to get to my parents’ place before the word vomit begins. For a moment, I considered winging it, but my inner planner and the need to ensure everyone's comfort and happiness prevailed.
“Okay, so I probably should have asked you this before we headed over to my parents’ house, but if my mom and dad don’t ask, my brothers absolutely will, and I very much do not want to scare you off because my family is pushy.” I try to sound casual, but my heart is pounding with nerves. I didn’t want to force Adam into this talk just yet, but I don’t see any real way around it. I know my family well enough to know going into this blind would be a terrible idea.
“Oh?” Adam asks. His head turns to look at me, smiling, my clear discomfort entertaining him.
“They’re going to ask what we are,” I blurt out before I lose my confidence to do so. “And I don’t want to push, really. We can even turn around and say you’re sick, and Madden and Jesse can help me pick out a tree for you and deliver it tomorrow. I won’t be offended, I?—”
“We’re picking out a tree today, Wren,” he says, cutting me off.
I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to center myself. “I know, I know, but?—”
“Together,” he continues.
He’s still not getting it, I think, so I try to explain. “Yes, but?—”
“And I’m going to meet your parents.”
“We—” I try once more to interject.
“Because from what I understand, that’s what you do when you’re seeing a woman and know there’s something there.”
