Page 39 of The Art of Being Merry
While she stridesto another part of the house, I set up the stand and carry in the tree, positioning it in the stand. It’s one of those you just click in, and the stand does the rest. I’ve learned from experience, it makes this process so much easier. And I can also do it myself.
“Before I tighten the bolts, take a look. Make sure the tree is standing straight. It’s easy enough to turn the tree around once it’s in the stand, but we want it secured tightly so it won’t be tempted to fall.”
I lie down on the floor, prepared to fiddle with the screws. Itlooked pretty straight to me, but I want them to have the final say. I’ll do my best to make sure it doesn’t fall. Ain’t nobody got time for a falling tree.
“It looks pretty straight to me,” Clementine observes.
“Me too,” Atlas agrees.
“Yep,” Jace says, popping the p. “It’s going to be so amazing when it’s all decorated.”
“Great.” I make quick work of securing the bolts, making sure they’re as tight as can be without stripping them. “Do you want to put the water in before I let the branches free?”
“Sure.” Clementine walks to the kitchen, and I can’tnotstare at her ass on display in her black leggings. I didn’t let myself do it before now—I was trying to be a gentleman—but it’s a losing battle. I’m in the perfect position to watch.
She returns in a minute with a plastic bottle full of water. “It’ll need more, but this is the best I can do for now. I’ll refill it once you pour it in.”
I take the bottle from her, ignoring the way electricity zings through us at the contact. The way she pulls her hand away so quickly, she must feel it, too.
Forcing my attention on the task, I empty the water into the stand and hand it back to her. She hands it off to Atlas before her gaze returns to mine.
When I can’t take her staring another second, I blow out a breath. “What?”
“You’re going above and beyond, exceeding my expectations. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m happy to help. If you haven’t noticed, this is kinda my jam.”
“You don’t say,” she snarks.
Damn, do I love when she gives it back to me like this, when she feels comfortable enough to go toe-to-toe with me. It’s enough to make me hard.
Almost.
“But for real, Dax. I was dreading this task, even though I would have done it. I wouldn’t not put up a tree. But this year, it’s been the one thorn in my side. The thought of doing it all by myself, even though it’s nothing new. I always do it myself. It’sjust, this year, it was almost too much with everything else. But of course we had to have a tree. What’s Christmas without a tree? The boys would have been devastated, and I can’t let them down any more than I already have this year. Heck, all of their lives.”
She’s rambling herself into a spiral, so I scoot out from under the tree, sitting up so I’m closer in distance to her. “Beating yourself up about any of this isn’t the answer. You know that, but in case you’ve forgotten, let this be a reminder. You haven’t let them down, not in any way, regardless of what you think. They are thriving, well-disciplined, and sweet. That’s because of you, Clementine. You did that.” I’m only going to get through to her if she’s willing to hear it. And I can’t tell either way because I don’t know her well enough.
Her fingers swipe the one tear bursting from her eye. “This is stupid. I’m crying over a freaking Christmas tree.” She shakes her head, her chest rising with fresh oxygen. “Because it’s not really about the Christmas tree. I know that. But if I let myself think otherwise . . .” She trails off. As much as I want her to finish that sentence, Atlas is back with the water, and the moment’s broken.
Which is for the best, even if I don’t like it.
Even if I can’t explain why.
I find myself in situations like this often around her. It’s getting harder and harder to justify any of it.
Atlas holds the full bottle out to me, and I pour it into the stand. “One more should do it.”
This time while he’s gone, I ask her for the scissors, not expecting the industrial clippers she hands over. With a smirk, she exclaims, “You should never underestimate an artist and her tools.” She winks, and if I wasn’t hypnotized before, this solidifies it.
It would be a huge mistake to make any move with Clementine Powell, but damn if I won’t do it.
12
clem
I needhim out of my house.
I need him out of my space.
