Page 37 of Fake It Till We Fall
I set my fork down and wiped my hands on my napkin, the words coming out sharper than I intended. “That’s not okay. It’s Christmas. You must have a tree.”
The table went quiet for a beat. Harper gave me a look, but Willa smiled softly, like my reaction had pleased her beyond measure.
“He’s right,” Avery chimed in. “You need a tree, Harper.”
I leaned back and crossed my arms over my chest. “It’s not up for negotiation,” I said. “You’re getting a tree.”
Even if I had to drag it into the restaurant myself.
Chapter Ten
Harper
“Do we really need to go all the way out here?” I looked across the cab of the truck at Grayson, before turning my attention back to the snow-covered forestry road he’d driven us down. The windshield wipers swished back and forth in a steady rhythm that kept time with my nerves. “This road doesn’t look safe, Gray.”
Beside me, Grayson’s mouth curved into a stubborn smile I remembered all too well. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of a back road, Harper? You’ve been gone too long.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but closed it again. “I don’t remember ever loving the back roads.”
“Oh no?” His eyebrow quirked up, and he shot a glance in my direction. “I remember you enjoying more than one of our back road adventures very much.”
Heat flamed my cheeks. Okay, he wasn’t wrong.
As teenagers, more than once, Grayson had taken me to an out-of-the-way riverbank, or a quiet meadow where we would lie out under the stars and…
“Aren’t there tree lots in town?” I refused to meet his eyes as I changed the subject. “In fact, doesn’t your hardware store sell trees?”
“Sure,” he scoffed. “If you like overpriced, half-dead pines with no meaning.”
“You are talking about your own products.” I laughed. “You know that, right?”
“One, it’s notmystore.” He shot me a glance. “And two, it doesn’t matter. They’re not good enough,” he said. “Your grandma hasn’t had a Christmas tree in years and you…well…” He swallowed hard. “Your tree should be perfect. And I know the best spot.”
“Perfect,” I echoed under my breath.
Moments later, he pulled the truck off the rough road, into a snow-covered clearing. “This is the spot.”
The world outside was quiet, blanketed in fresh white powder that glittered in the winter sun. It looked like something out of a postcard. It was gorgeous.
We climbed out, and I tugged my knit toque down low over my ears. Grayson grabbed a saw from the back, and we started our trek through the deep snow.
“What about this one?” I asked after a few minutes of trudging.
“Absolutely not.” Grayson shook his head. “Look at the bare spot.”
I tilted my head, but couldn’t see the spot he referred to. With a shake of my head, I carried on after him to the next stand of trees.
“This one?”
“Harper. You’re kidding, right?”
I wasn’t. The tree looked pretty good to me.
“Willa deserves better than a Charlie Brown tree.” He reached for my mittened hand and pulled me forward. “Let’s keep looking.”
I let him keep hold of my hand as we moved through the trees. We argued good-naturedly, pointing out trees and dismissing them for a variety of reasons that I couldn’t make sense of.
Too bare.
