Page 56 of A Pack of Mistletoe
We climb into a golf cart with extra-large wheels, pulling a cart behind it big enough to carry a good-sized tree. I don’t remember how many acres the people at the front said there were, but we drive for a while. I take a chance, leaning myhead against Harlan’s shoulder, wrapping both hands around his thick bicep and marveling at how they don’t quite touch. He glances down and gently tucks a swirl of hair behind my ear.
The guys bicker about what makes the perfect Christmas tree—height, thickness, color? Wyatt points out nice-looking ones, trees I’d definitely think were fine. Evander shoots them down. Logan points out others. Still not good enough. After six rounds of suggestions and shoot-downs, everyone’s starting to get irritated.
“What on earth are you looking for?” Kai asks, exasperated.
I glance at Evander, curious myself, only to find him already looking at me. Then it clicks. I roll my eyes.
“Really?”
He just smirks at me.
So I look out of the cart as we slowly pass tree after tree. They all look exactly the same to me. This is Evander’s Mr. Miyagi holiday moment, and I have no idea what I’m supposed to be looking for.
Finally, I point to a nice-enough blue one near the edge of a row. Everyone looks to Evander.
“There ya go, Candy. Let’s get it!”
I roll my eyes but smile. I’ve never picked out a tree before.
The tree is about the same height as Harlan and very round, its needles a soft bluish-green. Our breaths puff in the cold, drifting like little clouds while snow dusts our hats and shoulders.
“Okay, Rosie, let’s do this,” Kai says, taking the hand saw from the back of the cart. He drops to the snow and looks up at me with a challenging grin.
“Seriously?” I ask, laughing despite myself.
“Come on, Candy,” Evander chides, cheerful as ever.
I huff but kneel beside Kai and grab the other end of the saw. The snow is crisp beneath my knees. The bark is sticky with sap. I am absolutely sure Kai is doing most of the work, my hands just moving back and forth with his rhythm, but he keeps murmuring, “Perfect—just like that,” and it makes me try harder. The saw bites in until there’s a noticeable divot and the fresh scent of pine rises like a blessing.
“See? You’ve got it. My turn!” Evander crows, swapping in with theatrical enthusiasm. He hums a carol while he and Kai saw in tandem.
Wyatt sidles up and nudges my shoulder, pressing a warm cup into my mittened hands. “Hot chocolate in the snow, number five on Evander’s list. Couldn’t let the opportunity slide,” he says with a crooked smile.
“Thank you.” I stretch on my toes and kiss his cheek. He blushes into the steam. The cocoa is thick and sweet, with a hint of cinnamon. It slides down and warms me from the inside out. Harlan comes over and tucks me closer under his arm, sharing his heat, and I lean in, content.
No one asks me to saw again, thank goodness. Logan, efficient as ever, shakes out a tarp like a cape and spreads it beneath the branches. A few more pulls of the blade and the trunk gives a soft crack. The tree tilts, then settles onto the tarp with a satisfyingthwapthat echoes through the rows. We cheer, and Kai lifts his hands in triumph, grinning like a kid.
“Okay, here we go,” Evander says, already in motion. He’s set up a tripod for his phone. The timer starts beeping as he herds everyone into place. He plants me in the center, snug between Harlan and Kai, with Wyatt’s arm looped around my waist and Logan’s hand warm on my shoulder. Evander squeezes in at the front on his knees beside me, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes sparkling.
“Cheese!” he sing-songs.
We echo him, laughing, as the shutter clicks—our first picture in front ofmyvery first family Christmas tree, snow still falling soft around us.
Logan
The Nest Store is enormous. Kai holds the store’s recommended shopping order in his hands while Jingles hangs off his arm with an excited smile. That smile alone makes this whole trip worthwhile—but god, I don’t have a clue what I’m supposed to be doing here.
Evander’s at her other side, helping her come up with a vision for how she wants the place to look.
A hand brushes down my side, and I flinch before I register who it is.
Harlan.
He’s watching me with those dark brown eyes that see too much. That always have.
“You okay?” he asks.
I swallow. “Yeah. Fine.”
