Page 12 of Close to My Heart

I clasped my hands together. “I’d love to see that space filled with a tree.”

“I trust you to pick a nice tree.”

I raised my fist in the air. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“You know I don’t spend much time at my house, right?”

I smiled over at him. “When I come over, I’ll enjoy the decor.”

“Soon, you’ll be married, and your new husband won’t want you coming over to my house.”

I frowned. “Why not?”

“Trust me. No guy wants their girl to be hanging out with another man. I certainly wouldn’t. It’s not possible for men to be friends with women.”

“But we’ve been friends since we were kids, and nothing has ever happened.” That wasn’t exactly the truth. For the most part, I kept my thoughts, feelings, and hands to myself.

He gestured between us. “We’re the exception.”

“Are you upset that I’m getting married?” Then I shook my head. “That’s so weird to say when I’m not even dating anyone.”

“I don’t want to see you being taken advantage of, and that’s where I see this going.”

“I’m in control. I can handle it.”

“I know you can. But I don’t like it.” Wes parked behind his brothers’ blue Pine Valley Farm trucks, and we got out.

The other couples must have already gotten out of their vehicles and gone in search of the perfect tree, because no one was within sight.

Wes led the way down one row. “The taller ones are in this direction. I don’t think the others will go this way because no one else has the raised ceiling that I have in my house.”

That was good because I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone else today. I didn’t have my game face on, and I certainly wasn’t dressed the part of Sutton Rosesmith.

When I stumbled, Wes paused. “Are you okay?”

“Just clumsy.”

Wes grabbed my hand, and we resumed walking. I appreciated that he wanted to make sure I was okay. He cared about me in a way no one else in my life did. That’s why I wasn’t keen on doing anything to upset our relationship.

If what he said was true, that my new husband wouldn’t want me to talk to him anymore, I wasn’t sure how I’d survive. My chest tightened, and it became difficult to draw in a deep breath.

Wes paused to face me, his gaze scanning mine for any sign of distress. “You want to go back? Are you hurting?”

“I was just thinking about what you said. I don’t want to lose you. My grandmother’s ultimatum doesn’t have to mean anything. I’ll marry someone suitable, we’ll stay together for a few months, and then we’ll get a divorce. This doesn’t have to be the end of our friendship.”

Wes’s jaw tightened. “I don’t want to lose our friendship either.”

But he didn’t promise it wouldn’t happen. Just that he didn’t want it to any more than I did.

He tugged at my hand. “No more talk of wills and ultimatums. We have a tree to cut down.”

“And decorate,” I couldn’t help but point out.

Wes let go of my hand and wrapped an arm around me, pressing me into his side. We walked side by side like that until the trees got taller.

“What about this one?” I asked as I moved away from Wes and walked around it. The branches were full. “There aren’t any holes.”

Wes nodded. “It’s a beauty.”

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