Page 30 of If You Give a Grump a Christmas Tree Farm
“It’s next weekend, so I hope there are still some people who need a pumpkin.”
“I put on the flyer we’d be open tomorrow at 10am, so we better get a payment app set up. Do you think we got enough cider and s’mores supplies?”
“The bed of the truck is full of bags. If we run out, too bad. First come, first served, I say. We already spent a fortune.”
“I suppose you’re right. God, I hope this isn’t a disaster.”
“Why would it be a disaster? It’s just a bunch of pumpkins. You’re supposed to be the positive one. Don’t go panicking on me now, girl.”
“You’re right. Think positive. We can do this.”
“Damn right, we can.”
We unload the supplies, and I head to the barn to set up the speakers and find the old boombox Gramps used. There’s a Christmas cassette still inside it, and I grin, setting it aside. I dig through a drawer at his tool bench and find a few more and even two Halloween tapes.
When I come inside, Rebecca’s got the mini pumpkins spread out on the dining table, painting goofy faces on them.
“They look good,” I say.
“Do you think so? We’re going to sell them.”
“I got the music worked out; even found some old Halloween tapes we can use.”
“That’s great. Oh, I hope everything goes well.”
“I’m sure it will. I’m beat. I’m goin’ up.”
“Okay. I just have a few more to do. Will the light bother you?”
“Nah.” I glance to the hearth. “You want me to start a fire?”
“That would be nice. Thanks.”
I throw a couple of logs on the grate and add some kindling. Soon, the flames lick over the logs, the hickory wood crackling and snapping.
Straightening, I turn to find Rebecca watching me, her eyes glittering in the firelight. She’s beautiful sitting there, her hair gleaming, and her face soft. I have to remind myself she’s my brother’s—correction…wasmy brother’s. Does the loyalty still hold? Everything about the situation screams off-limits in my brain, but other parts of my body don’t give a damn. They argue my brother is gone, and I owe him nothing.
Shit, JJ. Get those ideas right out of your head. You cannot have this girl.
I can imagine what my family would tell her. They’d say I was just using her to get back at them and David. I can almost hear the lies they’d spew.
“Thanks for building the fire,” she whispers.
“Sure.” I run my palms down my jeans. “Well, don’t stay up too late.”
“I won’t. Goodnight, JJ.”
“Yeah, you too.” I stride to the stairs and jog up them, then change to a pair of sweats and lay on the bed, my hands stacked under my head, my eyes on the ceiling.
I can hear the fire crackling and occasionally Rebecca’s chair creaking. In my head, I’m imagining her going into the bedroom and undressing for bed. I imagine every curve, every inch of skin and imagine my mouth trailing over her.
My dick gets hard, and I roll to my side, punching my pillow.
Get over it, JJ. It’s not gonna happen.
***
The sale is a disaster from start to finish.
