Aside from the fact she’s completely my type — though many would say us men in Alpine Falls don’t have a type, any single woman will do — that isn’t true. She has to be funny. Kind. Above all else, she has to get along with the people in my life. The ones I care about.
Sadie is beautiful, there’s no denying it, but beauty is so much more than skin deep. She could be the most gorgeous woman on the planet, but if she had an ugly heart and a mean demeanor, her looks would quickly fade. The fact she’s a fucking angel sent from heaven isn’t doing my wood any favors, nor is that smart little mouth of hers.
But I’ve got to keep it in my pants because A. I don’t sleep with my staff, and B. She’s too pure for me.
There’s no two ways about it; not gonna happen. Dad, sorry to disappoint.
Plus, I’m pretty sure she hates my guts after some of the insults I threw her way about New York, and making her cry. I wasn’t trying to be purposely rude, but city people are a different breed. There’s no other way to say that. Okay, the lettuce leaf was probably uncalled for, but I was surprised she wasn’t frothing at the mouth to try a bison burger. Everyone loves the food at The Perky Porch — personally, I don’t see what’s so funny about the name — and I’m sure the cook will do what he can to make a tofu burger appetizing. Sadie doesn’t seem hard to please, in fact, she seems like a bit of a people pleaser, which is fine when it comes to the customers. To a point. We don’t take any shit over here at Lawless Farms. If a customer wants to get mouthy over a fucking Christmas tree — which some out oftowners have been known to do — they get shown the door, or my fist.
There’s no other Christmas tree farm around these parts until you hit Colorado, so it’s unfortunate that some people have to learn the hard way. Why spoil a kid’s Christmas if you don’t have to? Our trees are a fair price, and every tree sold ensures we plant another in its place. While we do regenerate the trees, not all of them survive. That’s the joy in what I do.
I fucking love this place. Sometimes when I get stressed, I hop on the snowmobile and find a spot to just sit amongst the trees. Sometimes Maisie will come with me, laying on the seat next to me, looking at the wonderland before us, too.
Manhattan. She can stick her bright city lights, I’m fine just here.
“You good in there?” I ask, hearing her grunting like she’s in pain.
“Have you ever tried to put snow pants on over normal pants?” she asks, her voice aggravated.
“Uh, you’re supposed to take your pants off first,” I tell her. “Makes life a lot simpler.”
“I know that now, thanks for the tip.”
“I’d offer a hand, but I’m not sure Alpine Falls is ready for that scandal.”
“Would you even fit in the dressing room?” she fires back. “Better still, do they make stuff inyour size?”
“Nope, and nope. I get all my clothes specially made.”
“Well, lucky you.”
I smirk as she flings the curtain back. Yes, Doris sat me in what’s known as ‘the boyfriend’ chair not far from the changing rooms. Lord knows I didn’t think I’d be spending the better part of my day sitting outside a women’s dressing room, but here we are. Once Dad gives an order, even I comply. But realistically, Sadie needs to change those damn shoes.
She looks like a gorgeous little elf. I hide my smile behind my hand as I lean forward.
“Well?” she demands, doing a little turn. “What do we think?”
The outfit is cute, and I don’t say that lightly.
The farm’s custom color, like the sweater, is dark blue, with our logo on the front. Of course, her weatherproof jacket will need to have the logo embossed, which shouldn’t take too long. Maybe a few hours. I can swing by later and pick it up. She has a matching pair of blue waterproof pants and giant insulated, waterproof snow boots.
“We have hats and scarves to match back at the farm,” I tell her.
“That isn’t an answer, Mr. Lawless.” She does a turn. “Do I look like a snowman?”
Mr. Lawless?Why do my insides do a dance when she says that?
“You look warm, which is the goal.” Is the only answer I feel is appropriate to give.
“I don’t get why the colors can’t be pink, or even red, it is Christmas time after all.”
“The uniform is all year round,” I remind her. “But don’t worry, my sister will give you a Santa hat closer to the holidays, she loves to go overboard with the decoratin’.”
She stops her twirling to glance at me. “I take it you don’t like decorating?”
“I get roped in every year,” I sigh. “We have a friendly feud with the ski resort. Every year we enter the light display competition, it even makes the news. All the money raised goes to the local hospital. We like to try and outdo each other, but Mr. Mackie — one of the locals in town — goes overboard with his neighbor. This year, I’m sure we have it in the bag, they won’t see it comin’.”
“What?” she whispers. “See what coming?”
