We wander through the trees, kids darting around us, holleringfor their parents. Lark hasn’t stopped smiling and my own cheeks are starting to hurt because I haven’t, either. Then she pulls me to a stop.
“What about that one?”
I look to where she’s pointing. It’s a small tree, maybe six feet, but that’s being generous. A little lopsided, since it’s still got its natural shape and hasn’t been trimmed to perfection like most of the trees here. But when I glance at Lark, her face is glowing with excitement, and I know I’ll do just about anything to keep that look on her face.
“That one? It’s perfect.”
We walk over to it, and despite not wanting to let go of her hand, I do. And just to play up the cheesy moment, I make a show out of walking all the way around, examining the tree, and making random noises of approval.
Lark’s eyes are dancing, her hands clasped together as I come back to stand in front of her.
“You ready, Birdie?”
“For what?”
I hold out the saw. “You’re doin’ it.”
She takes it from me, holding it gingerly. “I’ve never done anything like this, Dan.”
I can hear the nerves in her voice, so I crouch down, and beckon for her to join me. Once she’s next to me, I wrap my arm around her, still kind of in awe that I can do this. “I’ll help you get it started.”
Together, we place the saw against the trunk. Covering her hands with mine, I exert enough pressure to show her how to move it back and forth, and we slowly start cutting into the tree.It’s not a sensual action, not at all. But being like this, wrapped around her, our bodies moving in unison, is making me hard.
Guess I really am a fucking teenager again, getting hard at the slightest breeze.
“This is harder than I thought it would be,” Lark comments, and I don’t have the heart to tell her I could have done it in five seconds.
“But are you having fun?”
She nods, turning her head over her shoulder to smile at me. “So much fun.”
I can’t help it, I lean in and peck a kiss to the tip of her nose, red from the cold. Once again, I’m filled with so much goddamn wonder that I can do shit like this.
Her cheeks, already pink, darken.
“Focus on the saw, Birdie,” I say roughly, my eyes not leaving hers, despite my instruction.
“Kind of hard to do when you’re right there, looking so hot in that toque.”
I chuckle. “That’s what does it for you? My toque? It’s the pom-pom, isn’t it?”
Her giggle is adorable. Light and so damn happy. “Definitely the pom-pom.”
I tilt my head toward the tree, where we’ve completely abandoned sawing the trunk. “C’mon, let’s finish this, and then I’ll treat you to some hot chocolate.”
That gorgeous smile of hers grows impossibly wider. “With marshmallows?”
I lean back and pretend to be outraged. “Of course, with marshmallows. How could you even ask that? What kind ofmonster would I be to get you hot chocolate without marshmallows?”
We turn our attention back to the tree, Lark seeming invigorated by the promise of hot chocolate. A few minutes later, I hear the telltale creak that we’ve cut most of the way through the trunk and pull Lark to stand. Then, putting my hand on the tree, I give her a wink and push it just enough to allow it to fall over.
She claps her hands in delight, and it’s so goddamn cute I might keel over from it. “Alright, let’s get this beauty paid for and loaded up.” My voice is rough, and I hope she doesn’t ask why. I’m not ready to tell her how overwhelmed with happiness I am.
Once the tree is in the back of my truck, Lark automatically takes my hand in hers again. And for the billionth time today, I feel my heart swell at her easy affection. I’ve wanted this with her for so damn long, it feels like I’m living a dream. We wander around the farm, standing by the bonfire for a few minutes, sipping our hot chocolate.
But this place has one more surprise for Lark, and I can’t wait to show it to her. Taking her empty hot chocolate cup, I toss it in the trash can and gesture to the barn. “You have to see something before we go.”
She lets me lead her over to the large red building, and we step inside.
