Griff knocked the snow off one of his precious fir trees and wished sleep had been as simple as freeing the branches from the extra weight. Another restless night and he had no cause for the distraction, except a sexy little elf who’d been intriguing him for months.
Now that he’d had Hannah pressed up against him, forgetting the attraction was going to be a far cry from easy. No holiday drama, no trust fund babies, and no givers who only cared about helping so they could breathe in the adoration of others. Three lessons he lived by. Three lessons his father should have learned before his disastrous marriage to Griff’s conniving mother.
Hannah had drama and deception written all over her. She couldn’t be for real. The freaking pageant president. Who the hell elected themselves to office? She included all the winter holidays to represent all cultures. Who was she trying to impress?
He doubted she came from money, but her need to give practically smacked him over the head. He wasn’t sure if she did it authentically or for the town’s admiration, but either way, Hannah was not a complication he needed with his business barely off the ground.
“Where do you want the saplings ready for planting, boss?” Steve hefted one over his shoulder, ready to head in the direction Griff indicated.
“You don’t have to call me boss. You’re just helping out.”
Steve grinned, as he always seemed to be doing. “I don’t get why it pisses you off. But I can’t stop myself.”
“Over near the greenhouse, on the side near the work table.”
“Aye, aye.” The man saluted with his free hand. “Boss.”
Amused in spite of himself, Griff shook his head and moved over to the front of the lot. Families meandered along, helped by a few of his part-time workers who he’d made sure knew their trees.
A young kid ran by, hollering and zeroing in on a fir.
“Oh, I don’t know, Tommy.” The mother trailed after him.
“This one.” The kid feathered a light touch over the branches he could reach on tiptoe.
Griff recognized a kindred soul. The kid knew his trees.
“It’s so big,” the mother said.
“Too tall for you?” It was the mother Griff had to convince.
Flustered with reddened cheeks, she focused on him. “Our ceilings are only eight feet.”
“This baby here is six.”
“I don’t know.” The woman hesitated. The kid gave the tree a bear hug.
“We’ll deliver it, free of charge. We also plant a new tree for each one sold. And we’ll pick it up after the holiday to replant as a courtesy. We keep them in a large-base pot that’s conducive to replanting.”
“You don’t charge more for all that?”
“Nope.”
The kid ran circles around the tree.
Finally, the woman laughed. “Where do I sign up?”
Satisfaction spread through him as he took care of the paperwork and waved goodbye to the family. Something about helping the environment and making kids happy at the same time really got to him. Not that he was telling a soul.
“Another one sold?” Steve removed the dirt from his gloves by slapping them together. They watched the activity from the edge of the lot where they had a wide view.
“I knew it wouldn’t make a profit right off. I never imagined we’d have a shot at breaking even the first year.”
“It’s the convenience factor. No one wants to deal with all the fuss.”
Taking care of the fuss was going to save a lot of trees. “Thanks again for your help, man.” He held out a hand for a shake.
Steve met his grip. “Anytime. Any chance to tone the biceps.”
Griff figured it was more than that. “I could use your help on...”
Three women stepped through the entranceway and immediately attracted the attention of more than one patron.
“You said Friday might work,” Steve trailed off too when he turned his head. He whistled. “Triple trouble.”
“Is that what they call them?” Griff hadn’t heard that particular phrasing before.
“The Jones triplets? They’re always up to something. You’ve been so busy on the farm—you meet them yet?”
“Vaguely.” Unfortunately.
“The one on the right is Cate, the middle one is Janey, and the one on the left is Hannah.”
“I know.”
“You can tell them apart?” Steve’s brows lifted.
Settling on a shrug, Griff exhaled a heavy breath. “I guess.”
He didn’t need to go impressing the town folk by getting too interested in one of their beloved daughters. Especially not a woman as involved in the community as Hannah. He couldn’t keep up with her activities, but the list was ridiculous and long. When you focused on so many things, you never gave adequate attention to the most important.
Steve smacked him on the back. “I’ll see you later. Good luck with trouble.”
Why did Griff feel like he was going to need it? He hung back, not wanting to engage with the woman who wouldn’t leave his thoughts.
He grabbed the brush he used to dust off the trees, to keep them from getting too weighed down with snow. Relaxing, he settled into the peaceful rhythm.
“Pick one,” a loud person demanded.
“Give me a minute.” A softer murmur.
Griff hesitated and worried it might be Hannah and her sisters. The speakers weren’t in view yet. The scent of pine comforted him.
If he stayed in place, someone else might assist them. He held his breath, then cursed himself for being a coward. He should just go out there and say hello. Hannah didn’t have a hold on him.
Soft fingers brushed his hand. Whoever they belonged to was hidden by the tree. The touch fluttered, and Hannah moved from behind the fir.
Her hand squeezed his before she dropped her arms to her sides. “You.”
“Me.”
Her attention wandered back to the tree. “It’s perfect.”
The simple words sucker-punched him. Her obvious appreciation of the farm as she looked over the land showed she really got his life’s work. He couldn’t help but thaw.
Perfect. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat. He’d meant the tree. Mostly.
Her dark gaze flickered up to his. Any lingering wonder vanished. “What are you doing here?”
Janey burst around the edge of the tree and her palms landed on Hannah’s shoulders. “Have you found one yet?” Her exuberance stalled when she saw him. “Well, you found something.”
This sister made him uncomfortable on multiple levels.
“Is this the perfect tree? Our Hannah here has a thing about the perfect one.”
“No kidding.” No inflection because he could have guessed.
Hannah frowned.
“I heard this place delivers for free, they plant a new tree for every one they sell, AND they pick it up to replant after the holiday,” Janey hurried on. “That will save you from having to go out and plant it yourself.” She slapped Hannah’s shoulder. “Hannah here goes out into the snow and insists on taking the trees back to nature herself.”
A strange sensation struck his chest. He observed Hannah’s reddened cheeks. “Is that so?”
“It’s to pay back for the gift of the season,” Hannah explained, but looked embarrassed.
Normally he would have called the sentiment naïve. But he’d never thought about replanting trees in quite that way, and it strangely made sense, maybe in the same strange way this woman intrigued him. Saving them did pay them for serving for cheer. He could appreciate that, and therefore appreciated her.
Janey fluttered her hands in the momentary silence. “Han cares about the environment or something. We figured this was the perfect place for her holiday tree.”
“Yeah, we care about the environment here.” He never took his attention off Hannah.
“You work h-here?” Janey stuttered for the first time he’d heard.
“I own it.” He couldn’t tear his gaze away fro
m Hannah.
“Uh, ah, well, then, I’ll go find Cate.” Janey fled the area.
“You?” Hannah whispered.
“Me.”
“Why?”
“I care about the environment.”
“You don’t care about saving the world.”
Amusement crept in. “Is that right?”
Her hands flew up to cover her mouth. “I didn’t mean that.”
“How’s your leg?” He couldn’t resist asking.
Her eyes widened, as though he’d surprised her. “Good as new.”
He tried for a stern expression. “I don’t celebrate the holidays so that means I don’t care about anything important?”
“Of course not. I—”
“I’m joking.” Badly.
“Oh.”
Yeah, she didn’t get his humor at all. She wasn’t alone. “If you want to give me your information, I’ll get this delivered tomorrow.”
“Do you deliver it personally?”
“One of the guys will.” Was it possible the slight slump of her shoulders was disappointment? He shouldn’t like the idea so much. Maybe he could change his schedule.
“Okay. I’ll go ask my sisters how they want to pay.” Before she left, she hesitated. “And thanks.”
“If it’s about the other day—”
“Well, that too.” She smiled. “This time I meant for the farm. No one does anything like this around here. I’ve been waiting for someone to do this for years.”
“I have too.” When she scurried away, he suddenly wondered if he’d been waiting years for the farm to open, or if he’d been waiting for something else.
Chapter Two
Hannah lifted the curtain away from the living room window, impatient for her tree to arrive. She huffed out a breath at the empty driveway.
“I can fill in for the elf, but you owe me.” Janey burst into the room.
Hannah jumped and allowed the fabric to fall back into place.
“Please tell me you’re not watching for that man like a lovesick puppy.” Her sister plopped down on the couch and threw her feet up on the coffee table.
She moved toward Janey, unwilling to comment on her own pathetic-ness. Griff had told her he wouldn’t be delivering, but part of her thought he’d come. She didn’t think she’d completely managed to mask her disappointment when their conversation ended. Maybe he’d picked up on that and would make an appearance. What did it mean if he showed up? Possibly a lot, like maybe he was interested in her. Her imagination had no problem running away with itself.
“I’m excited for the tree.” Not a lie. She pushed her sister’s feet off the table. Her sisters had no appreciation for the furniture in the house they shared.
Janey snorted. “Yeah, I bet you’re excited for something large and hard.”
Hannah’s cheeks flamed at the inappropriateness. Mostly because while she hadn’t specifically thought of the man’s penis in such crude and blunt terms, she had been having a lot of dreams about sex. Apparently that’s what happened when you didn’t have any for a long time. And what happened when her biggest crush over the years had been an anonymous pageant donor she hadn’t even met.
Janey’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my god. You’ve been thinking about his penis.”
“Whose penis?” Cate strolled into the room. She sprawled out in a chair.
“Hannah’s got a hard-on for the tree guy.”
“Why of all th-the—” she stuttered, outraged her sisters were being so crass.
Cate whistled. “Usually she ignores us, but I think you’re right. We’re getting to her. She definitely wants tree guy’s balls.”
Hannah closed her eyes, absolutely mortified. “I do not want his...” She couldn’t even say it. Things like this were strictly for the privacy of her own brain. She had a lot of scandalous thoughts, but that didn’t mean she had to speak them out loud.
Her sisters laughed, completing her humiliation. Just when a girl thought a fight with an inflatable Santa was as low as she could fall.
An engine rumbled outside. The creak signaled the driver was trying to climb over the speed bump otherwise known as the entrance to their driveway.
Hannah opened her eyes, and they all froze. Then it was a mad dash to the window. She got there first, but her sisters were all elbows and curse words.
“Let me see him.” Cate pushed.
“You guys are so immature,” Hannah muttered, but she might have shoved Cate when her sister tried to steal her spot.
“Yeah, because you being twenty minutes older makes you mature.” Janey blew her bangs off her face.
They settled on their usual birth order, head on top of head, lined up vertically, until they had a clear view out the window. Griff rounded the corner of his truck.
He wore only a long-sleeved cotton shirt that stretched across his biceps, despite the cold weather. Her stomach clenched.
His attention hooked on her direction, and their gazes held for one intense second. He lifted a hand to wave.
She and her sisters scurried back out of view.
“He saw us.” Hannah cursed.
“No shit.” Janey was always one for poetry.
Hannah groaned. “How am I supposed to face him when he caught us watching him?”
“Go right for the balls.” Cate shrugged. “Works every time. Just grab hold.”
The doorbell rang. This was so not the way she’d planned things to go before she formally asked him out for a cup of coffee.
She moved toward the door, ignoring her audience and wiping her sweaty palms against her jeans. She opened the door, and her breath caught.
Griff’s attention traveled up and down the length of her. Her body temperature warmed with his perusal. He might be able to eat her up with his intensity.
“You said you weren’t delivering the tree.”
“Change of plans. Steve got sick.”
She attempted to quell her disappointment that he hadn’t come for her. “Let me show you where I plan to put it.” She stepped back to allow him space.
He entered and followed behind her. Only to come up short at two nosy sisters who she wasn’t surprised hadn’t left. Although she’d been hoping.
“That’s a very big cat you’ve dragged in.” Cate wiggled her brows as Janey might but didn’t quite pull it off.
Hannah peeked up from under her lashes at Griff, not sure how he’d take her sisters. The ghost of a smile must have meant he wasn’t that bothered. “The loudmouth is Cate,” she added helpfully. “You didn’t meet her at the tree farm. And you remember Janey.”
“How could I forget?”
That pretty much explained Janey. “The tree would go great right here.” Hannah gestured toward the space.
“I’ll be back after I load it up.” He turned to leave, rather curtly.
“Can I make you some hot chocolate?”
His returning expression was a little is-she-for-real. Shoot. She’d gone too far with the cocoa. She always took her need to please too far. Normal people offered coffee.
“She’s going to make it for you anyway,” Janey interjected.
Not helping. She flashed murderous glares at her sisters.
They recognized the warning. “We’ll leave you alone then.” Cate pulled a protesting Janey from the room.
She took a deep breath to regain her balance again. She chanced another look at him. Of course she couldn’t read his expression. “I can make coffee instead.”
His shoulders relaxed degree by slow degree. “No. Cocoa’s fine. I’ve always liked it.”
She grinned at him. See? Below the Scrooge exterior, he was really a believer at heart. She just needed to remind him using care and caution. “I’ll be right back.”
Twenty minutes later, she was just adding a dash of sprinkles—she knew, excessive—on top of her homemade whipped cream, when movement behind her caught her attention.
Griff filled the length of the small dining room openi
ng. “I finished setting the tree up.”
“That was fast. Perfect timing. Here, grab one and we’ll go out to the living room.”
He came over. His shoulder brushed hers. She shivered and hurried toward the front of the house.
He settled next to her on the couch and sniffed the steaming cup. “I can’t stay long.”
She tamped down on her instant regret. “The least I can do is make you something to drink. You brought me my dream tree.”
He took a sip. His brows shot high. “This is the best hot chocolate I’ve ever had. The perfect temperature.”
“Thank you.” Her first instinct of I know was probably too presumptuous for a first drink. Her strangest quirks were best tasted in small doses, just like the rest of her personality. She sipped her own drink to compose herself.
A short silence stretched. She set their cups down on the table in front of them. Whipped cream clung to his upper lip. She reached out to remove the mess before she could stop herself.
His fingers wrapped around her wrist. The simple touch made her skin flush. She had obviously been without sex for way too long. Message received.
“What are you doing?” Growled words.
“You have cream on your upper lip.”
“So do you.” He bent down and licked, lapping up the cream. Her interest sparked to life with warmth in the pit of her stomach.
Their lips brushed. He deepened the kiss, one of his hands snaking around her back. Heat blasted through her, and a moan escaped. He pressed their bodies closer together.
His tongue invaded her mouth, and she was positively lost. When he brushed the side of her breast, she froze.
He stopped immediately, pulling back. They stared at each other. She was dumbstruck. She might have wanted to bring him a little holiday spirit, but this moment of madness was a lot more than she’d bargained for.
“Sorry.”
She swallowed. “Nothing to apologize for.”
“I got carried away.”
All she wanted to say was yes, please. Or maybe encore. “I didn’t mind.”
He studied her as though she was the strangest creature he’d ever seen. That would probably be about right. Her body throbbed for him, even though she hardly knew him. She wasn’t usually attracted this quickly, without really understanding a man.
For My Own: A Contemporary Christmas Anthology Page 26