“Are you paying for this?” Ava meant the words as a tease, he was sure. But he knew the truth. She couldn’t afford a new tree. Especially not the biggest one Harold had to offer, which was the only one he was allowing her to leave with.
“Of course I’m paying for it. As you said, I got you into this mess, right?”
“I was joking.”
Brayden steered a shopping cart straight toward the tree display, waving to Harold at the front counter on his way. The older man had his head tucked into a newspaper, no doubt working on the crossword puzzle. “And because I’m paying, you have to accept the one I choose.”
“That not’s fair.”
“I think it’s entirely fair. I don’t have my own tree, so this one has to count for the two of us.” He scanned the shelves below the display of five artificial trees for the box he sought. The selection that included a three-footer, a super skinny six-footer, and the lush seven-and-a-half-foot cashmere tree he wanted was quite picked through and the remaining boxes weren’t in any order.
Ava shifted the holiday basket she’d brought with her from one hand to the other, making him wonder what goodies might be in there he couldn’t see for it to tire her arm out. “My living room isn’tthatbig.”
“It’s big enough.” Brayden hefted the last remaining box of the biggest tree into the cart and looked toward a skimpy ornament display. “You’re good on decorations, right?”
“In case you missed how Christmas exploded in my house, I have enough ornaments to decorate three trees this size. The lights on the other hand . . .”
“Point taken.” He steered toward the endcap filled with boxes of colorful lights and began loading them into the cart. “We don’t have time to fix old strands.” After the sixth or seventh box, Ava shackled his wrist.
“That’s plenty.”
He stared too long as her slender fingers wrapped around his wrist, surprised by the tingles erupting on his exposed skin. “Better get this to the register, then. I think Harold’s about due for a coffee break.” He nodded toward the owner shrugging into a jacket. Either the crossword puzzle was finished or he was stumped and needed a break.
He snagged a bucket of wood screws on the way to the counter.
“Brayden,” Harold greeted with a warm smile. Crinkle lines around his eyes and more gray hair than not suggested he was a few years older than Brayden’s mom. Not quite old enough to be his grandfather, but Harold reminded him of one anyway. “Not your usual haul today, aside from the screws, of course.”
“Tree emergency.”
“I see that.” Harold flashed a smile toward Ava.
“Mr. Davies, how are you?” Ava returned a friendly smile and lifted her gift basket onto the counter. “I was wondering if I could ask a small favor. I’m offering these gift baskets in my store. They’re kind of a last-minute addition. Would you mind displaying one on your counter?”
Harold studied the basket with interest. “You put this together yourself?”
“I did.” Brayden didn’t miss how she rocked on her heels. The gravity of these baskets occurred to him. Was it possible that they were the hopeful ace up her sleeve? Her last-ditch effort to raise enough money to save the store?
“They make wonderful holiday gifts,” Brayden added.
“It’s just a display,” Ava continued. “You can send customers to my store to buy them so you don’t have to fuss with any of that.” Her arm disappeared up to the elbow into her tote she called a purse. “I have multiple sizes.” She handed him a printed card showcasing the three sizes and prices.
It took all of Brayden’s discipline not to critique the design aloud. Her website wasn’t listed, for one. And half a dozen more eye-catching designs arranged themselves in his head. He only hoped she hadn’t already printed hundreds. He’d risk wounding her pride this once and offer to redo them.
“I don’t see the harm,” Harold said, clearing a spot on the long counter for the basket. “Don’t know how much business it’ll send your way though.”
“Thank you, Mr. Davies.”
Brayden expected Ava to do more or say more, but instead she waited quietly as he paid. It was so unlike her that he could hardly concentrate on signing the receipt. Ava was far from what he would consider shy. It had to be something else. “Harold, your wife’s a realtor, right?”
“Yes.” A knowing twinkle danced in Harold’s eyes. Brayden had suspected for a long time that Harold knew the truth about him. It would be hard to be married to a realtor in a small town and not wonder where all the extra commission checks came from. But the man didn’t give him away if he did know.
“Those baskets might make nice client gifts,” Brayden said. “Especially for new homeowners.”
“Great idea,” Harold said with a nod, handing Brayden the receipt. “I’ll mention it to Jolene.”
“She can contact me if interested,” Ava added as the three moved to the front of the store, Harold at their side to lock up and seek out a cup of coffee. “I should have them added to my website later tonight.”
Before they could make it to the front door, bells jingled overhead. An elderly woman with a red hat and snow boots up to the hem of her calf-length skirt marched in. She was a petite thing, and Brayden was certain he’d seen her around before. But hiding out in a woodworking shop more days than not had its disadvantages. He couldn’t place her name.
