by Zoe Chant
“You could have a point there,” Beau said, nodding. “I definitely get it about not wanting to vacuum all the needles up. That is kind of a hassle.”
Annie glanced at him as she pulled up to a red light. “So you’re open to debate about the topic of Christmas?”
“Sure.” Beau flashed a grin at her. “I guess to me, the point of a real Christmas tree is like Christmas itself. It takes a lot of work, and it’s kind of a hassle. But it’s a once-a-year thing, and the fact it’s so temporary is part of what makes it so special. You wouldn’t go to so much trouble for almost anything else. But over those couple of weeks when you sit back at the end of the day and look at the tree you decorated and smell the pine needles and think about how this is the only time of year you can do these things – it’s kind of corny, I guess, but to me, it’s something special. Especially if you have someone to share it with.”
Annie swallowed as she pulled out into the intersection, careful to keep her eyes on the road. Nonetheless, she could still feel Beau’s presence next to her, seeming way too warm and way too close in the confined space of her tiny car.
“I guess,” she said eventually, and to be honest, the way Beau described Christmas, it did sound kind of special. It was just that she’d always felt locked out of the specialness – she’d always been on the outside looking in. “When you talk about it like that… it’s really tempting. But it’s always felt to me like that kind of stuff is for other people. I’ve never really had anyone to share it with.”
Again, she felt that strange tug in her chest that compelled her to be honest. It was strange, how comfortable she felt saying these things to Beau, who she’d only just met. Usually she kept her past close to her chest.
“I suppose people often do say Christmas is about being close to your loved ones,” Beau agreed. “But I guess that isn’t always possible. But you can always treat it like a special time just for yourself – a time to give yourself a bit of extra time to appreciate the year and what you’ve done during it.”
Annie glanced at him. “What – you mean like buy myself a present or something like that?”
“Well, why not?” Beau laughed softly. “Sometimes we have to take matters into our own hands. Besides, who better to buy a gift for than yourself? At least you know you’ll get yourself something you like, so you won’t have to bother pretending the concrete frog your aunt got you for your non-existent garden is the best thing you’ve ever seen.”
His words startled a laugh out of Annie. She hadn’t been expecting that! “You sound like you’re speaking from experience with that one.”
Beau shook his head. “Well, let’s just say there’s a very happy concrete frog who now lives in my neighbor’s yard, along with a bunch of concrete fairies, concrete gnomes, and concrete cats. He’s much happier there than he would be as a doorstopper in my apartment, that’s for sure.”
“Sounds like a responsible rehoming to me,” Annie agreed, unable to stop herself from smiling. “I hope your aunt gets you something else this year.”
Beau shrugged, his expression mild. “Well, it’s the thought that counts. I think there was supposed to be a hidden message in it.”
“Which was?”
Glancing at her, Beau shifted a little uneasily in his seat. “I think maybe the message was that it was time to move out of my one-room apartment and find something bigger, with a garden for the frog. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family, but they’re not exactly the most subtle people in the world. In their opinion, it’s high time I stopped focusing so much on work and got my life together.”
“Oh… you work a lot?” Annie could feel her face coloring for some inexplicable reason. So… if his family wants him to settle down, then that must mean he’s single.
Well. She’d kind of assumed that from the way he’d asked her out on a date. But it was nice to have it spelled out.
And did that mean he agreed at least a little with his family’s assessment, and he was looking to settle down…?
Furiously, Annie pushed the thought aside.
What happened to your resolve that this was going to be a three-day thing? she asked herself. Even if he is looking, that doesn’t mean he’d choose you! You just met! Don’t let these stupid fantasies go to your head!
Living in a dream world was how disappointment happened. No expectations meant no disappointment, right? It was a tough lesson she’d had to learn long ago. She couldn’t let herself forget it for the first gorgeous-eyed, gorgeous-smiled, muscular, charming, sexy –
Focus!
“We’re here!” Annie blurted out as the sign for Johnstone’s Christmas Trees came blissfully into view, before she could say anything stupid like So, if you’re thinking of settling down… what do you think of girls who work in bakeries?
She turned down the long driveway of the farm, the freshly plowed snow piled high on either side. Despite how close it was to Christmas, she could still see a lot of trees planted, looking, she had to admit, beautiful. Dark green and covered in a light dusting of snow, they looked exactly like something out of a picture postcard. Beau seemed to be appreciating the view too, looking out over the tree-filled field in silence.
“So, uh, how does this work?” Annie asked as she pulled up outside Ben Johnstone’s shopfront, which was designed to look like an old log cabin. “I’ve never really bought a Christmas tree before.”
“Well, if it works the same as it used to, you go out and find the right tree for you, and the farmer cuts it down and sells it to you,” Beau said. “But it’s been a while for me too – the last time I was around for the actual buying of the tree was when I was a kid.”
“Oh, so this’ll be like… something you haven’t done in a while,” Annie said, the thought warming her heart for reasons she couldn’t define.
“Yeah.” Beau’s grin was broad and genuine. “C’mon – it’ll be fun.”
Despite herself, Annie found some small part of her heart believed him as together they got out of the car, putting on their winter coats against the frozen wind. Going and picking out a Christmas tree wasn’t something she ever could have imagined herself doing, but she would’ve been lying if she’d said there wasn’t some part of her that wasn’t at least a little bit excited.
As soon as they stepped into the warmth of the shop, though, it became clear that all was not well at Johnstone’s Christmas Trees. Mr. Johnstone himself was on the phone, his back turned to them. Annie realized that he hadn’t heard them come in, and therefore hadn’t lowered his voice.
“– You’re sure it won’t start? There’s no one there who can give you a jump?” He paused, listening to the person on the other end of the line. “Well sure, but you know I’ve got that big order later. When can you be back? I can’t pretend this isn’t going to be kind of of a problem, Jimmy.”
Annie exchanged a glance with Beau. She knew Jimmy was Mr. Johnstone’s son, who worked with him here at the farm. What could have happened that was causing a problem?
Mr. Johnstone exchanged a few more words with his son, most of them telling him to be back as soon as he could, before hanging up. He turned, surprised when he saw them standing there by the doorway.
“Sorry to keep you folks waiting,” he said, coming up to the counter. “Hope you haven’t been here too long.”
Annie shook her head. “No, not long at all.” She hesitated, before deciding, well, if she was going to do this, she might as well jump in with both feet. “I know it’s a bit late in the season, but I’ve come to buy a Christmas tree.”
To Annie’s surprise, Mr. Johnstone winced. “Ah, jeez. Well, that might be an issue.” He jerked his head back toward the wall-mounted phone he’d been speaking on. “That was young Jimmy – you know Jimmy, my kid. His truck’s broken down on the way home from a delivery, and I don’t have any more pre-cut trees right now. I can’t swing an ax like I used to on account of my back.” He shook his head. “Actually, it’s a bit of an issue, I’ve got a late order to
fill for ten trees, and nothing ready to go. So you’re not the only one who might be a bit put out. I’m sorry about that, Annie – maybe if you come back tomorrow.”
“Coming back tomorrow isn’t a problem,” Beau spoke up, his voice low and warm, “but are you going to be able to fill your other order today?”
Mr. Johnstone shook his head, though Annie noted the curiosity in his eyes when he looked at Beau. When you’d lived in the area as long as Mr. Johnstone had you got to know everyone around, and a newcomer like Beau was sure to spark some interest, even if he hadn’t looked like a walking, talking Greek statue.
“Not unless Jimmy can magically get his truck to work in the next ten minutes,” he said. “And that’s not looking likely, I gotta say.”
“Well then, maybe I could help you out,” Beau said, shucking off his winter jacket. “I’ve swung an ax or two in my time – I grew up helping my dad manage my family’s lands. I’m sure I could manage to chop down a Christmas tree or two if it’d help you out.”
Annie’s eyes widened as she looked across at him – but it seemed Beau was perfectly serious.
Oh – now the sweater he was wearing was following the jacket, leaving him in the t-shirt he was wearing underneath, which did nothing to disguise the broad flatness of his chest and abs, his bulging biceps, his smooth, tanned skin…
Annie was aware she was gawping, but she just couldn’t stop. It’d been clear Beau was built when he’d still been wearing a sweater, but this was ridiculous.
All at once, images of her running her fingers over those washboard abs, of resting her head on the broad plane of his pecs flooded her mind. Her mouth went dry as she stared, her heart doing double time against her ribcage. Warmth filled her stomach, and she had to stop herself from biting her lip in desire.
What the hell…
She’d never responded to a man this way before. She’d liked to flatter herself that her head couldn’t be turned for a pretty face.
But obviously, she’d been completely wrong – she just hadn’t seen the right pretty face.
She finally managed to tear her eyes away to look at Mr. Johnstone again, to see what he made of Beau’s offer.
He looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected some out-of-towner to be so helpful.
“Well, that would be helpful,” he said slowly. “And I’d pay you a fair wage for the work you do, don’t you worry about that. But are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
Beau nodded. “I do. You don’t grow up where I grew up and not learn how to safely cut down trees. Let me do one to show you, and if you’re not satisfied I know what I’m doing, we’ll leave it at that.”
Annie could see Mr. Johnstone was tempted – and finally, he nodded his head. “All right, it’s a deal. Let’s go.”
Mr. Johnstone fetched the ax and a small rolling trolley, and they followed him outside to where the rows and rows of green Christmas trees stood, sprinkled with flakes of snow. Annie shivered even in her winter coat, but Beau, in his short sleeves, didn’t seem fazed by the cold – in fact, it was as if he didn’t feel it at all, she thought, marveling as he walked beside her.
“We got an order of ten medium-sized trees for some mall that wants to do a caroling concert the day after tomorrow, and decided at the last minute their stage didn’t look spectacular enough,” Mr. Johnstone explained as he led them to some older, larger trees. “You reckon you can cut down ten trees? That’d be a tall order even for my Jimmy, and he’s been working here all his life.”
“It’ll be no problem,” Beau said, but he didn’t sound like he was boasting – it was just a quiet confidence that he knew what he was doing.
“Well, let’s see how you go then,” Mr. Johnstone said, handing him the ax.
Annie didn’t know the first thing about felling trees, but she could admire the flex of Beau’s muscles as he swung the ax, firmly and competently, the razor-sharp head burying itself in the wood of the tree trunk.
Beau cut a wedge out of one side of the trunk, before moving around the tree to hack at it from the other side.
Annie glanced at Mr. Johnstone, and though he said nothing, she could see from the look in his eyes that he was impressed. Beau’s swings were neat and precise, and by the looks of things he wasn’t using his whole strength – he was focusing on accuracy and safety, not showing off his burly muscles.
Though the muscles are a nice bonus, Annie thought dizzily as she stared at Beau’s back as the material of his t-shirt tightened across it, outlining said muscles to perfection. She swallowed, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop staring. But who, really, could blame me? Not me!
In no time at all the tree was on its side, safe and sound.
“Nicely done,” Mr. Johnstone said appreciatively. “I think I can safely say you know what you’re doing.”
Beau nodded, smiling. “Thanks. Want me to load it onto the trolley?”
“Well, that would be helpful,” Mr. Johnstone said, laughing. “But only if you won’t strain yourself doing it.”
Mr. Johnstone laughed again, evidently pleased with his joke, as Beau grinned and lifted up the tree as if it weighed nothing, hauling it over to the trolley.
Mr. Johnstone grabbed the trolley handles and lifted them, preparing to take the tree back to the shopfront.
“You sure you don’t need me to do that?” Beau asked, but Mr. Johnstone just shook his head.
“I may not be able to swing an ax anymore, but I can still manage this,” he said mildly. He began wheeling the tree away – but as he passed Annie, he paused and said, “You got a good one there, Miss Shaw – you should hold onto him, wherever he came from.”
Annie immediately felt herself blushing to the roots of her hair. “Oh, no – we’re not – I mean, he’s not – I –”
Mr. Johnstone raised an eyebrow, giving her a knowing look. “Well then, if you’re not, you should at least consider it. Good men don’t grow on trees, you know.”
Before Annie could even begin to think of what to say to that, Mr. Johnstone had set off with the tree and the trolley, leaving her standing there staring after him.
Before she could stop herself, Annie had glanced back at Beau, who was sizing up the next tree in the row. There was no way to tell if he’d overheard what Mr. Johnstone had said, but if he had, he wasn’t giving anything away.
Annie couldn’t tear her eyes away from his profile. She couldn’t recall being so attracted to a man ever before in her life. She couldn’t recall ever… wanting anyone, the way she wanted Beau.
Three days, she reminded herself harshly. You’ve got three days to live in fantasyland. Then it’s back to the real world.
“All right then,” Beau said, lifting the ax once more. “One down, ten to go.”
“Ten?” Annie asked. “The order was only for ten – you’ve only got nine to go.”
Beau shook his head. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten why we came out here in the first place – you still need a tree too.”
“Oh – well, maybe,” Annie said. “But not if it’s going to mean –”
Beau waved away her objections. “It’s no trouble. Especially not for you, Annie. But in any case, it’s kind of good to be out here again. I haven’t had the chance to get out and about in nature in a while. It’s reminding me of when I used to do this kind of thing with my father and sisters. We’d pick out a tree, and then we’d help him cut it down. When we got older, we could do the cutting ourselves. It was a tradition, all my life – but work’s taken me away from it recently.”
“Sound idyllic,” Annie had to admit, images of Beau and his family hiking through the woods in search of the perfect tree flittering through her head. Were his sisters as tall and good-looking as he was?
“Yeah, it was a pretty great way to grow up,” Beau said. “I was lucky in that way.” He cocked his head, seeming about to ask her about her own childhood – but as if sensing her reticence to talk about it, he only smiled warmly before he turned awa
y, swinging the ax down on the trunk of the next tree.
Annie was almost sorry when the last of the trees had been chopped – she thought she could probably stand here and watch the muscles in Beau’s back and shoulders move as he swung the ax all day, no matter how cold it got.
He stood up straight, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead before hoisting the tenth tree onto the trolley, to be hauled away by Mr. Johnstone.
“I guess you’re done then,” she said, looking a little wistfully at the muscled arms that would soon be hidden once more beneath the sweater he’d been wearing.
“Not quite yet,” Beau reminded her. “We still have to pick out your tree.”
Annie bit her lip, wanting to tell him not to worry about it. But she’d agreed to this – if she wasn’t going to commit to it, then she might as well just tell Beau she wouldn’t take up any more of his time, and let him go home to his family.
“Okay,” she said. “But I think I need to tell you my apartment is pretty small. It definitely won’t fit any trees this size in the living room.”
“Okay, so we’re looking for something compact,” Beau said, smiling. He glanced around. “What about that guy over there?”
Annie turned to look where he was pointing, and saw a small, perfectly triangular, bright green tree. It looked cute – almost fluffy.
As soon as she saw it, Annie knew where she’d put it – on top of the wooden box in the corner of her living room, where she stored her old magazines and some comic books she’d had since she was young. Somehow, she could already see it there, a few small fairy lights draped over its branches, a golden star twinkling on top… and her and Beau sitting on the sofa beside it, drinking a cup of warm milk in the glimmering lights, gazing into one another’s eyes, leaning forward ever so slightly as they –
“Yeah, that one should work,” she said quickly, hoping he couldn’t see the way she was flushing bright red.