“Nope. You just pick the best one you can find or, in a pinch, the one that calls to you.”
“So just to be clear, you’re saying I can pick any tree I want and you’ll be cool with it?”
He slips his arms around my waist and pulls me to his chest. “Darlin’, if it makes you happy, it makes me happy.”
Warmth pools low in my belly and I stretch up on my toes to brush a kiss across his lips. “Let’s go find our Christmas tree.”
We walk up and down the rows and Brady points out pines and firs and even a spruce, but none of them speak to me.
“We’re getting pretty close to the end.” He stops to admire a fat little tree with symmetrical branches and deep green needles. “How about this one?”
I study it, scrunching my nose as I check it from every angle. “Nope.”
Brady frowns and cocks his head, looking for the imperfection. “What’s wrong with it?”
“There’s nothing wrong with it, but there’s nothing right either, you know?”
He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “I really don’t.”
“I just want to find the perfect tree for our first Christmas together.”
He slips up behind me and circles me with his arms, guiding me to the next row. “I hate to burst your bubble, but there’s no such thing as the perfect tree.”
I twist out of his grip and stick my tongue out at him. “You’re entitled to your opinion, even if it’s wrong.”
“Oh, yeah?” There’s a predatory glint in his eyes, and when he narrows them, I bolt.
Brady gives chase, but I weave through the trees, doing my best to lose him.
Or stay out of reach.
Or give him a little thrill.
Even I’m not sure what my goal is by the time I reach the edge of the field, chest heaving. I spin around looking for him, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
Where the hell did he go? He was right behind me a second ago.
I creep forward, peering down the next row of trees, but there’s still no sign of him, so I move to the next row.
By the fourth row, I’m certain he’s hiding from me and when I reach the fifth and he jumps out from behind a massive fir, I shriek like a banshee. He grabs me around the waist and lifts me off my feet, spinning me around.
That’s when I spot it.
The perfect tree.
“That’s it! That’s the one.”
I point to it and Brady smirks as he sets me back on my feet. “Seriously?”
“Does this look like the face of a trickster?” I demand, pointing to my face. “So it’s a little lopsided. It’ll be fine.”
“Did you see the bald spot?” he asks, pointing at the empty patch.
“It’s nothing that can’t be fixed with an ornament…or five.”
He pulls me close and lowers his forehead to mine. “You always did like an underdog.”
“See? You get it.” I beam at him. “Perfection is in the eye of the beholder.”
