"You're a tree farmer. Of course you think the inside of a tree is the best place."
Grant smiled. "Fair point."
They kept working, the space getting smaller as they circled the trunk. Or maybe they were just standing closer. Grant couldn't tell anymore.
Riley reached for a high strand, stretching up, and her foot slipped on the uneven ground.
Grant caught her—one arm around her waist, the other bracing against the trunk.
"Careful," he said.
"Thanks."
She was pressed against him now, her back to his chest, both of them breathing hard.
"This is becoming a pattern," Riley said, her voice shaky.
"What is?"
"You catching me."
"Maybe you should stop falling."
"Maybe you should stop being in the right place at the right time."
Grant's grip tightened. "Would you rather I wasn't?"
Riley turned in his arms, and suddenly they were face to face, inches apart, surrounded by pine and twinkling lights.
"No," she whispered. "I wouldn't."
Grant's heart was trying to escape his chest. This was it. This was the moment. He could kiss her. He should kiss her. They were supposed to be dating. It would make sense.
Except it wouldn't be for show.
It would be real.
And that terrified him.
"Riley—"
"Grant! Riley! How's it looking in there?" Mrs. Henderson's voice shattered the moment.
They jumped apart.
"Good!" Grant called back, his voice cracking. "All good!"
"Wonderful! Come on out. We're doing the test run in five minutes."
They ducked out of the tree, both of them flushed and breathless and very carefully not looking at each other.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur. More decorating. More volunteers. More stolen glances and almost-moments that left Grant feeling like he was walking a tightrope.
By the time the sun started setting, the square looked like something out of a storybook. Lights everywhere. Garland draped from every surface. The tree glowing like a beacon.
"Test run!" Mrs. Henderson called.
Someone hit the switch.
