A Winter Wedding(38)

“I’m not opposed to it. It just makes for a more difficult relationship, because of the variables involved.” She reached for the mouse and clicked on the mail icon for a woman named Ruby Meyers. “Let’s send these ladies a message, shall we?”

“Let’s?” he repeated. “No way. I can handle that part myself. Later.” He got up and grabbed his coat. “It’s December 3—three weeks before Christmas. I say we go get a tree.”

“You want me to go with you?” she asked. “To leave the house?”

“Why not? No one will see you. We’ll go out in the woods and cut our own.”

Despite everything, she felt a spark of excitement. The past few years she’d been so busy with her career she hadn’t paid much attention to the various holidays, and Christmas was no different. This reminded her of Christmases past, when she was a little girl and would go out with her family to get a tree. “Is that a tradition of yours?”

“No. My assistant puts up a fake one at work. I usually let it go at that, since that’s where I spend most of my time. But...I think you could use a tree.”

“Me?”

He grinned at her. “I’m not the one who’s been crying.”

“How will a Christmas tree fix what’s wrong with me?”

“It won’t, but it can’t hurt to remind you of other things that matter.”

He had a point. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

*

Kyle had just chopped down the tree Lourdes had chosen. It was so large, he doubted it would even fit in his house, but she was so adamant that it would be perfect, she’d bet him $50.

“I feel like an icicle,” she said, rubbing her hands and jumping from one foot to the other. “We need some hot chocolate.”

Kyle couldn’t understand why she was cold. She hadn’t brought any snow gear, so she was wearing his heavy coat, hat and gloves. Then again...he’d done all the work. He’d been too afraid the tree would fall on top of her if he let her chop away—although it was far more likely she would’ve just wasted her time and effort hacking ineffectively. She’d obviously never handled an ax.

“We can go by the grocery store and buy some to make at home,” he said. “Or we can grab a cup at the Gas-N-Go. Your choice.”

“I say the Gas-N-Go. I want whipped cream on top.”

Breathing heavily from the exertion, he straightened to give himself a rest. “You’re not acting too depressed.”

“I feel strangely...happy,” she admitted. “As long as I don’t think of Derrick.”

As far as he could tell, she hadn’t checked her phone since they’d left, which made him believe she hadn’t yet answered Derrick’s earlier text. “Yeah. Watching me chop down a tree is pretty exciting.”

She chuckled. “I do have you to thank. You keep distracting me from my misery.”

He gave her a wry smile. “You like playing matchmaker, like talking about those women you found.”

She cocked her head. “Whom you don’t seem in any hurry to contact.”

“I’ll get around to it. In the meantime, my profile is up.”

“Meaning what?”

“They can write me if they want to.”

“So you are arrogant.”

“And if I said the opposite, I’d be sexist,” he teased.

When she took out her phone, he thought maybe she was finally checking to see if she’d heard from Derrick again. “Can you get a signal out here?” he asked.

“I don’t need a signal. I’m taking a picture.” She raised her cell phone. “Smile!”

“Another photo for my profile?” he asked. “Now we’re going to portray me as a guy who’s full of Christmas cheer?”

“This is actually for me. I think it’s funny watching you single-handedly wrestle that giant tree into your truck.”

He got a better hold on the trunk and lifted it cleanly. “Here you go. Now everyone on Single Central will see that I don’t need a gym,” he joked.

Her breath misted as she laughed. “Show-off!”

After another ten minutes spent tugging and dragging and maneuvering, he finally managed to get the darn tree into the bed of his truck and securely tied down. “I won’t be pleased when I can’t get this through the front door,” he warned as he examined his work. “Even if I will be fifty bucks richer.”

She stamped the snow from her boots, which were too big, since they were his. “Did we ever shake on that?”

“Did we have to?”

She glanced at him skeptically. “I don’t want to bet anymore. It looks a lot bigger now that it’s been cut down.”

He gave her the evil eye. “Don’t you dare say that. I tried to warn you, but you wouldn’t listen.”

“I might’ve been wrong,” she said with a sheepish grin. “But...we can always cut off more. Make it work.”

Exhausted, he climbed into the cab of the truck while she did the same. “It’ll take a second for the heater to get going,” he said. He turned it on full blast, but he didn’t think she needed that much warm air. She was practically buried under his winter gear. “Look at you,” he said, reaching over to pull the hat farther out of her eyes, since her own hands were encumbered by the oversize gloves.