Page 76 of If You Give a Grump a Christmas Tree Farm
“Fantastic. I’m starved,” Griz grumbles, holding the tree I’m re-anchoring into its stand.
We finish up, and when the five of us troop into the house, an aroma of tomatoes and basil hits me.
“Damn babe, something smells good.”
She’s set the table with bowls laden with creamy tomato soup, and a tray of hearty sandwiches sits in the middle.
“Sandwiches and soup, yum.” Brayden pulls a chair out.
Becca blushes a faint pink. “I figured you men needed something warm after that storm pushed the cold front in. And I’ve never met a man who didn’t want meat.”
“Das righ, cher.” Cajun waggles his brows at her, and I elbow him in the side. “Umph. Wat ya do dat for?”
“That’s my woman. Keep your eyes to yourself.”
Brayden grins like a cat with a canary, but wisely keeps his mouth shut as he scoops a spoonful of the soup into his mouth.
“Anyway,” Becca says, “dig in.”
“I don’t know if it’s because we’ve been working our tails off or the warmth of these toasted sandwiches and soup on a frigid day, but this is the best damn lunch I’ve ever had.” Hammer takes another crunching bite of sandwich.
“Don’t let Tink hear you saying that shit,” Griz warns.
“You gonna tell her?” Hammer leans forward, pointing his utensil at him like he plans to do damage with the spoon if Griz answers wrong.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Griz holds his hands up in surrender.
“Ça c’est bon.” Cajun slurps his soup.
Rebecca’s brows furrow at him.
“He’s from Louisiana. You’ll get used to his accent and all his slang, eventually.” I drop my hand to her knee.
“Hell, I still don’t know what he says half the time,” Brayden admits.
“He was just saying the soup was good,” I translate.
“Oh, well… thank you.” Becca smiles at him.
Cajun tips his head and the spoon in his hand at her in some type of bow.
“We still need to figure out what to do next year,” Rebecca whispers to me.
“We still have about a quarter of the crop.” I try talking through the problem.
“So, that means you’re short three quarters,” Griz adds unhelpfully.
“Shit, I didn’t know you could do math,” Hammer jokes.
“Watch it.” Griz narrows his eyes. “Or I might just let something you said about this food slip to Tink.”
That shuts Hammer up real quick.
“What if you took a few trees from each of the following years? You know, some always grow faster and taller than others,” Brayden suggests.
I scratch my beard. “That could work.”
“But what about the next year, and the year after that? We’d always be short,” Rebecca argues.
