Page 66 of Bad Boy Bachelor Christmas
“Good, because I’m going to miss you when you’re gone. And Maple Hill is a lot of fun in the summertime. We have a swimming hole, hay wagon parties, pumpkin ale festivals, and some of the best farmer’s markets you’ve ever seen when the weather gets good. I think you’d like it here.”
“I already like it here.”
Cami pushed off the fence. “Here comes your tall drink of water. I’m going to make myself scarce before Justin notices I’m still here and tries to convince me to go for drinks with him. Touch base tomorrow?”
“Sounds good,” I said.
Cami hurried off through the snow and made her way out to her car. Her headlights lit North up from the back and shone between his legs as he walked with his jacket under his arm. Most of the stragglers had left, and there was only a handful of people wishing each other goodnight in the parking lot.
He nodded at me. “Can I walk you to the cabin?”
“Yes please.”
North shared his genuine excitement over how well the event at the farm had gone. He would be open for business every evening until Christmas Day going forward, but this had been the right kickoff and had exceeded his expectations. He thanked me for my work on the sleigh ride, telling me all about how my added Christmas lights made the ride even more magical for people. He lost count of how many folks stopped to take pictures with the horses and sled.
I listened to him talk. He’dneverbeen this chatty. Words kept pouring out of him, and I soaked them all up, reveling in his enthusiasm as our boots crunched on the snow.
Up ahead, my little cabin came into view. It had been such a good home to me over the past few weeks, and I was already sad to have to leave it. I’d fallen in love with its bathtub and the soft, deep, cozy mattress on the bed. I loved the simplicity of the place and waking up in the mornings to a fresh blanket of snow in the fields and a hot cup of coffee on the stove.
Those mornings truly felt like the start of a Hallmark Christmas movie. I never thought that would be an aesthetic I’d want to chase, but now I was all in.
When we drew closer, I noticed something new on the front porch that hadn’t been there when I left. I stopped at the bottom of the porch steps, but North climbed them and grabbed the top of a pine tree that had been propped up against my front door.
“I picked this out for you and had one of the boys drive it over for you.” He gave the tree a little shake, and the needles rustled as if in greeting. “I thought we could decorate it together tonight?”
“You did?”
“If you’re up to it, of course.”
“Up for it? Absolutely!”
He grinned, and I shouldered open the door and held it open for him to pull the tree in. He used a bucket that had also been delivered and got the tree propped up just in time for a knock at the door. I opened it, confused, and smiled when I found Maurice and one of his kitchen assistants bundled up against the cold with sealed food platters in hand.
“Bon appetit,” Maurice said, teeth chattering.
Giggling, I took the platter. “Thank you. Would you like to come in and get warm for a moment?”
Maurice crammed his hands into his armpits and shook his head. When he spoke, his French accent seemed even thicker than usual. “No, Miss. If I come in, I fear I won’t ever leave. You two enjoy.” He and his assistant hurried off, disappearing into the field of trees, and I turned with the tray of food to find North already in the kitchen pulling plates down from the cupboard.
“You’ve had this planned,” I said.
He shot me a cheesy smile over his shoulder. “I’ve been looking forward to having you all to myself.”
I brought the food into the kitchen and put it on the island. The rich smell wafted out from under the lid, and my mouth immediately began watering. With all the hustle and bustle of the day, I hadn’t even noticed how hungry I was. Right on cue, my stomach gave an obnoxious rumble.
North laughed and set out the plates, along with cutlery. “Perfect timing.”
We filled up our plates with Maurice’s delicious meal, a healthy serving of fresh pasta in marinara sauce with fresh-baked French bread. Rather than eating at the table, we got comfortable on the sofa and discussed how we were going to decorate the tree once we were finished eating. There was still a box out on the porch, which North told me was full of random ornaments from old decorating jobs back when Marge used to run the show. He had no idea what was in them, which sounded like a fun little adventure to me.
We left our dishes in the sink and he dragged the box inside. He opened the lid, and we both peered into the box of mismatched ornaments, garland, and lights.
“This isold.” I leaned over and began pulling out strings of pearls strewn together in a garland that had probably been made in the late eighties. Parts of it were in rough shape, but it felt nostalgic and similar to one my grandmother used to own and put on her tree every year, until it eventually fell apart and the pearls went scattering across her Christmas tree skirt. She’d shed a tear over them.
We found other treasures in the box, old silver tinsel, lights with liquid in them that bubbled like lava lamps, a string of plug-in angels whose halos lit up, and a tree topper that was so ugly it left me in stitches as I fell into the corner of the sofa.
North swiped it out of my hands with a laugh to get a good look at it. “Holy hell. This is hideous!”
The angel, or rather what used to be an angel, was practically headless. Her head hung on by a thread, and her halo, which had been sewn on, had untangled and hung down her back between her yellow wings, which I assumed used to be white.
