She just shot him a look as if to prove her point.
“It’s theholidays,” he defended, as if that was supposed to excuse the hypocrisy away. “I’d be an idiot not to at least answer emails this time of year. It’s a goldmine. Besides, Ilikemy work. It was my sister who told me to take a break, mind you.”
He blew out a breath, the puff of air diffusing in the frigid air. “Although I admit, I tend to dive into it too heavily when things aren’t going well, and she probably caught on to that. But it is fun for me, at least.”
“Sometimes it feels good to just get off the grid for a bit. Doesn’t it?” she nudged him. “These days, it’s almost impossible. Anyone and everyone can reach out to you in an instant. Evenif you don’t want them to,” she bit out the last bit. She fidgeted with her phone in her hand, just waiting for another string of hateful messages to roll in. Thankfully, they never came.
She deleted the message, pushing Davis from her mind as best she could.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t realized they reached the Christmas tree farm. String lights were hung between each aisle, and the branches were lightly dusted with fresh snow. Lachlan led them down every aisle, eyeing each one of them like he was shopping for a new vehicle. He kept saying things like, “Hmmm, too big.”
“Too small.”
“Eh, maybe.”
At about the fifth aisle, Eliza huffed. “I thought I was choosing, anyway. And must you be so picky?”
“Yes,” he answered, “I have to set my standards high or else I’ll be begging for us to take back the ugliest one because I’ll feel sorry for it.”
“Well, don't make the other trees self-conscious in the process,” Eliza said.
Lachlan said something about how there was“a profound lesson somewhere in there,” but she wasn't paying attention. She’d found it: the perfect tree. It stood just a little taller than Lachlan, about six and a half feet tall, its branches thick and bushy. It was the perfect storybook shape with a thick base sloping toward a skinny top.
“There,” she pointed, interrupting Lachlan mid-sentence.
“Nowthat’sa Christmas tree,” Lachlan replied with a whistle, walking in a circle to inspect every side of it. “I knew you had good taste, Snow. I just knew it.”
Suddenly, a tree behind Lachlan tilted over and dumped a cascade of snow on top of his head. He stood there, blinking, frost covering his dark eyelashes.
Eliza couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s not magic. That’s just straight-up karma for insulting the other trees.”
“Point taken.” He hoisted the tree up onto his shoulder and carried it to the front. He handed the cashier one hundred and fifty pounds. “Merry Christmas,” Lachlan said to him with a warm smile.
Eliza raised her brows, surprised. “Big spender.”
“Guess all the overpriced open houses finally paid off,” he said, the two of them setting off back in the direction they came to the cottage. Puffcake was still sound asleep in Eliza’s scarf.
“Your job’s really that lucrative, huh?”
“It is when you work as much as I do,” he turned to her with a half-smile. “Because what else does a single man like me in his late twenties have to do besides sell to his secondary-school friends who are married with two kids and a goldendoodle?”
Eliza laughed, noting how he explicitly mentioned he was single. Piper was going to flip at the news. “I guess spend it on an overpriced Christmas tree.”
“Exactly. This is my wild phase. Blow all my money on getting stuck in a gingerbread house with a beautiful woman and impress her with pine needles and too-small baking aprons.”
She desperately tried not to smile and swallowed nervously. “Desperate times.”
“You have no idea.”
She silently slipped out her phone and quickly typed a message to Piper.
Can confirm—single.
Before she could put it back in her pocket, the message was read, and the three little dots appeared, showing Piper was already typing.
Then theshoompof a reply.
You’re the luckiest girl in the world.
