Page 38 of If You Give a Grump a Christmas Tree Farm
“No, ma’am.” But he can’t fight the chuckle, and I feel his chest shake. “I told you to give me a second, and I’d help you. You made me drop the drill.”
“Sorry.”
“You always so stubborn?”
“Stubborn?” I hiss, insulted.
“Yeah. Seems like you always try to do everything yourself. It’s okay to ask for help or accept it when it's offered.”
He sets me on my feet, and I immediately miss the closeness.
I tuck my hair behind my ears. “I suppose I’ve always had to do things for myself. Is that so wrong?”
“Is that how it was with David?”
I bend over and pick up the string of lights I dropped while JJ rights the fallen ladder. “I really don’t want to talk about him.”
“Sure. I get that.”
We finish with the lights without speaking, then stand back to admire the spot.
JJ puts his hands on his hips. “It looks really good, Rebecca. This was a great idea.”
“Thanks.” I don’t know why, but his compliment means everything to me. I feel validated.
“You’re really good at this.” He turns and notices the wreaths I made for the front porch. There’s one on each post. “The place looks great. I think you’ve got a real talent for this stuff.”
We lock eyes, and something shoots through me. How can I be falling for my brother-in-law?
A car pulling up the drive breaks the moment, and we both turn to see Phoebe approaching.
“Oh, crap,” I say. “I’ve got to fix my makeup and hair. Stall her, will you? I need about fifteen minutes.”
“What the hell am I going to talk to her about for fifteen minutes?”
“Think of something.” I run for the cabin. “Oh, and start the bonfire!”
Twenty minutes later, I finish with a last swipe of lipstick, then quickly change into a black thermal shirt and add a red plaid flannel over it. I top it off with a cream knit hat with a fur pom-pom. I grab the matching men’s flannel shirt I picked up for JJ and meet them on the front porch.
His eyes sweep over me.
“Oh, don’t you look adorable,” Phoebe says.
“Here.” I shove the shirt at him, and his eyes hit it.
“You’re kidding, right? Matching shirts?”
“It’ll be perfect,” Phoebe encourages. “Try it on.”
JJ sighs, but shrugs it on over his cream thermal. “Please do not tell me there’s a matching hat.”
I roll my eyes. “No, but maybe I should have gotten you one just to piss you off.”
“Oh babe, I’m already there,” he says with a playful harrumph.
We head off to the field of Christmas trees and do a bunch of photos and video footage. JJ already had a tree cut and ready for the shoot, and we take a few shots of him carrying it overhis shoulder with his other arm around me, and a bunch of us laughing and smiling at each other like some happy couple in love.
We end up at the cabin, and do some videos of us feeding each other s’mores around the fire, then finish with us at the pickup truck. Buddy joins us for that shot, and Phoebe ties a red bow around his neck.
