Now we’re talking.
“That’s more like it,” I say, walking over to check it out.
The tree is full and symmetrical, with no major gaps or broken branches. It’s a good find, especially considering what this place is charging. Highway fucking robbery is what it is, but the smile on Honey’s face after I got her to calm down when I insisted on paying makes it worth every penny.
“What do you think, babe?” I ask, turning to Honey.
She tilts her head, examining the tree from different angles. “It’s perfect.” She smiles.
“That settles it.” I wave over one of the employees, a gangly teenager in a red vest withHappy Holidays!embroidered on the pocket. “We’ll take this one.”
While the kid gets to work cutting the tree, I pull Honey against my side and drop a kiss on her temple. “You like the tree, baby?”
A slight grin crosses her face. “I love it.”
I’m about to suggest that we set it up at my place instead when Jackson tugs on my jacket.
“Dread, can we get hot chocolate?” He points to a small concession stand near the entrance of the farm. “Please?”
Those big blue eyes are fucking lethal. Kid could ask for the moon, and I’d be tempted to try and get it for him.
“Sure, little man. Let’s go.”
I look at Honey. “You want something?”
She shakes her head. “I’m okay. I’ll stay here and make sure he gets us the right one.”
“Tommy, you coming?” I ask, holding out my hand.
He hesitates for a second, then nods and takes my hand.
My chest tightens at the gesture.
The kid’s starting to trust me, and I have to admit it makes me feel ten feet tall.
We head toward the concession stand, Jackson skipping ahead while Tommy walks beside me, his small hand in mine.
“You really like my mom, huh?” Tommy asks, looking up at me with serious eyes.
Well, shit.
Kid ain’t pulling any punches.
“Yeah, buddy. I really do.”
He nods thoughtfully. “Good. She deserves someone nice.”
Jesus. This fucking kid.
“I’m trying to be,” I tell him honestly.
The concession stand has a short line, and we wait our turn behind a family with three screaming kids. Jackson tugs impatiently on my jacket again.
“Can I go pet the reindeer?” he asks, pointing to a small pen where the farm has set up a petting zoo with a couple of deer they’re passing off as reindeer.
I glance at Tommy. “You wanna go too?”
Tommy looks at his brother, then back at me. “Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on him.”
