Out of the corner of my eye I can see several other people cutting down their own trees without any trouble. But either this fucker has the thickest trunk ever for a Christmas tree, or I am in fact useless with a hand saw.
I glance at Reed to see him with a hand over his mouth as he watches. “Are you laughing at me?”
He shakes his head but doesn’t move his hand, so that’s a yes. I narrow my eyes. “Do you want to have a go?”
This time he manages to speak, but he’s smiling around the words. “Nope. I’m enjoying watching you do it.”
I huff. “It’s harder than it looks.”
“I hope that’s not what you’ll be saying later.”
My mouth drops open and that is the thing that sets him off laughing. It’s loud and full of delight, and I’m pretty sure we’re now the focus of at least six pairs of eyes. One of which is unfortunately Pete.
For fuck’s sake.
To his credit, he doesn’t take the piss when he sees me struggling. Maybe it’s because we have a sort of audience and this is his place of work, but his smile is easy as he walks up to us.
“Need a hand?” He gestures to where I’ve barely made it a third of the way through. “It can take a few goes to get the hang of it.”
I could be an arse and insist on finishing it myself, but I’m not too proud to ask for help when I so clearly need it. Besides, it’s cold, and Pete can no doubt cut this tree down in a fraction of the time it would take me and make a far better job of it.
I’d much rather be on my way home with Reed than stuck out here because I didn’t want to look like I don’t know what I’m doing.
That ship sailed about ten minutes ago.
Admitting defeat, I stand and hold the saw out to Pete. He takes it with a chuckle and has the thing done and dusted by the time I’ve stood up and joined Reed.
“Wow,” Reed murmurs. “So that’s how you do it.”
“Shut up.” I elbow him in the side, and he laughs.
Pete stands and hands the saw to Reed. “You carry that back, and me and Jerry’ll bring the tree.”
“We can manage it between us, if you need to get back,” I offer when I catch Pete giving Reed an appreciative glance when he’s not looking.
Pete has a mischievous glint to his eyes as he turns back to me, totally unfazed that I caught him. “I don’t.”
“Wonderful, thank you.” I get the prickly top of the tree while Pete—with his thick work gloves—takes the bottom, and between us, we carry it back to the wrapping station.
While Reed stays in line with the tree, Pete ushers me back to the makeshift office so I can pay for it. “So,” he says when we’re almost there. “You and Reed?”
“What about us?”
He holds his hands up, and maybe I was a little sharper than I intended. “I was just testing the waters. It’s not often we get newcomers to the village that look like him.”
That’s true. And while I appreciate him asking me, it’s not my place to say whether he can or can’t ask Reed out if he wants to. I don’t have that right. The only thing I can do is be honest with him. “I like Reed,” I say, glancing over to make sure he’s not coming our way. “And I’m hoping we might be about to start something between us, but I can’t speak for him, Pete. I can’t and would never presume to tell either of you what to do.”
He nods but doesn’t say anything further and I have to bite my tongue not to do exactly what I just said I wouldn’t.
We walk the rest of the way in silence, and Pete slips behind the counter to get the card machine.
“Can you take for a stand as well,” I ask as I hand him my card. “I managed to break mine last year when I took the tree down. Oh, and one of those wreaths too. Please.”
“No problem.” He rings it up and then disappears to presumably get everything. When he returns, he’s carrying a brand-new stand and a white plastic bag.
“Wreath’s in there.” He nods to the bag as he passes it over. His lips twitch, but before I can ask him about it, Reed appears at my side.
“All done?” He looks between me and Pete. “Ooh what have you bought?” He leans forward to look in the bag, but Pete thrusts the stand at him.
