And just like that, I forgot how to breathe, let alone function. Which became apparent when I let out the biggest breath I’d ever exhaled.
“Um…” I stammered. “That’s… that’s good.”
I tried to focus on the view outside my windshield and not the roaring fire that had erupted inside me from his touch, his gaze, his presence.
“There, see. We’re already moving,” Samir pointed out, and I nodded with a dry mouth and a racing heart.
The line did move quickly after that. Then again, I didn’t know what I expected from Peregrine’s. His farm had been a staple on this island since his grandfather’s days. They were a well-oiled machine by now.
We neared the front of the line before we knew it, and as the silence grew in the car, I remembered my discussion with Enzo this morning.
“Am… am I boring?” I asked Samir.
“Huh?” He looked at me with his gorgeous, big, brown eyes, and I forgot how to breathe again.
“Are our dates boring?”
Samir grimaced.
“No. What made you think that?”
I shrugged.
“Something Enzo said,” I mumbled.
“He said our dates are boring? How would he know? He’s not in them.”
I chuckled but turned serious again.
“I know, I just… I haven’t done this in so long. I don’t know if I’m supposed to do more.”
“More… than dinner?” He smirked.
Shit.
“Oh no. That’s not… that wasn’t what I meant.”
Samir laughed and touched my knee again.
I wish he’d stop doing that because it kept derailing my thoughts, and my feelings.
“I know. I was kidding. I may not be a dating pro, but I think we’re doing well. Dinner, getting to know each other, going tree shopping. I think we’re acing this twelve dates of Christmas thing.”
It took me a moment, but I started bobbing my head along eventually getting more and more confident.
“Yeah. You’re right. We’re nailing this.”
Samir smiled, and so did I, but then Ella repeated nailing over and over again and it became… weird.
The farm employee ahead beckoned us closer, and we entered the parking lot where we ditched the car and walked to reception.
Peregrine welcomed us and handed us an ax and let us loose on the farm.
“So!” Samir said, putting the ax over his shoulder, and I had to take a moment to admire how regal he looked. Like a middle-class lumberjack, what with his semi-formal attire, the red scarf, and the ax in his hand. “What size are we looking for?”
“I think seven, eight feet,” I said.
As we walked around trying to find the taller trees, I put Ella down, keeping her hand held tightly in mine as the last thing we needed was a toddler running around when there were axes flying everywhere, but as we walked, I saw her reach for Samir with her other hand.
