“Did she know that?”
“I doubt it. I sure as hell never told her.”
“Still, if I’d been your wife I’d have pitched a fit.”
“Believe me, she did. Like I said, though, she finally figured out haranguing me about it wouldn’t work. But it was one of those things she flung at me when we broke up.”
She touched his cheek, gazed into his eyes. “Is it terrible of me that I find that incredibly romantic?”
He smiled, took her hand and kissed her palm. “Not to me.”
The next morning Harlanwent to Riva’s to get coffee and muffins. Savannah was moving slowly since neither of them had much sleep the night before. They’d been too busy getting reacquainted with each other by making love during the night. When he returned she was up and wearing one of his button-down shirts. His gaze took in her long, bare legs, to the swells of her breasts peeking out from the partially unbuttoned shirt, to her hair, looking like she’d just tumbled out of bed.
“No,” she said. “I want coffee.”
He grinned and set down the cardboard carrier. “I didn’t say anything.”
“You thought it.” She picked up a cup and took a sip. Sighed happily. “Nothing beats that first cup of coffee in the morning.”
“Almost nothing.” Harlan picked up his cup and took it to the couch with him. “Was there anything special you wanted to do today?”
“Yes.” She sat beside him. “You don’t have a Christmas tree.”
“It seemed kind of pointless when it’s just me who’d see it.”
“I have one.”
“Ah, you’re one of those.”
“One of those?”
He nodded. “A tree nut. You’re not happy unless every place you go has a Christmas tree.”
“And your point would be?”
Harlan laughed. “Never mind. Where do we get a tree?”
She took him to a Christmas tree farm not far from Whiskey River. Savannah suggested taking his car—his Ferrari—to the farm, an idea he immediately vetoed.
“You want to put a Christmas tree on top of my Ferrari? Are you crazy?” His car was in pristine condition and he intended to keep it that way. Besides, a tree? God, the paint job would be destroyed in minutes.
Savannah went into peals of laughter. “You should have seen your face. We’ll take my SUV, don’t worry.”
Not content to just pick out a tree and cut it down, Savannah must have dragged them through every inch of the farm. Hours later, she finally settled on a six-foot Douglas fir, since he’d rejected anything larger.
“I still think your apartment is plenty big enough for an eight-foot tree,” Savannah complained as they lashed the tree to the top of her small SUV.
“I like this one.” He’d been so happy when she’d finally chosen one that he wasn’t about to let her change her mind.
Somehow they managed to wrestle it into the elevator—another reason he hadn’t wanted a bigger one. Savannah had decided ideas about where to place the tree. Every time he put it one place, she changed her mind and “decided” to see what it looked like in another place. Then she finally “decided” to put it back to the spot she’d chosen in the first place.
“Perfect,” she announced.
He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Yes. Perfect,” he said, cupping her cheek and smiling at her.
“I meant the tree.”
“I didn’t.”
