Page 10 of Christmas in Vines

I was heading out when I caught that part. Winslow—why did that sound so familiar? Walking back to the orchard, I tried to place it, but it kept slipping out of my mental grasp like smoke. By the time I’d finished packing up and gone back to the warehouse, the suits were gone, Willow too.

With a shrug, I headed to the mess hall and pulled my beanie off. I got a wrapped sandwich and a cup of coffee, then found a table with Ford, Luke and a brooding Harry. Ignoring the ass, I dropped my gloves and beanie on the fold-out table.

“Where were you?” Ford asked, his thick brow up.

“I had to double back,” I replied. “Had to get another crate.”

“You don’t organize yourself well, do you?” Harry sniped.

Unwrapping the sub, I rolled my eyes. “I wake up with no skittles for brains and tangled strings for plans.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” Harry finished while grabbing his tray and moving off. “It’s plain as day.”

Watching him go, I asked Ford, “What is his problem?”

“Massive three-foot pole lodged up his arse,” Luke shrugged. “But he’s got a point. Is this your first time doing seasonal work?”

I gave him a dry smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Ford rubbed his bare head. “We’ve all been there, man. Trust me, it’ll get better in the next few years. I’ll probably be back here next year too, probably when the missy takes over.”

My brows shot up. “Willow is going to take over?”

“Been hearing whispers that her taking over was all the plan, but her dad wants her married first,” Luke replied while tearing into his flatbread. “She was going to marry this asshole whose family basically owns half of Asia.”

Ford elbowed him. “Stop exaggerating, but well—yeah, they’re disgustingly rich.”

“Oh,” I muttered. Why did I feel so sour all of a sudden? “She still going through with it?”

“I don’t think so,” Luke shrugged while finishing his food, “Who cares? Rich people problems.”

My mind ran back to Willow earlier that morning, and I wondered why she’d had that reaction to the suits-and-ties. Were they there to oppose her taking over? It would explain why she’d gone flinty.

But why had she gone white like a ghost?

“Funny,” Ford’s lips twisted. “The little missy isn’t that visible with her relationships. You’d expect any woman dating a rich fucker would be flashing it all around, but she seems to be going the other direction.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I—” Ford shrugged his heavy shoulders. “It’s like she would rather shrink away or hide it or something. I dunno, man, I don’t think money impresses her.”

“Why would it?” Luke reached for a cup of soup. “She was born into it. I get the impression that she’s the kind of gal who prefers emotional connection instead of a physical one. Good looks, flashy cars, money falling like rain… I don’t think those things matter to her. Plus, the few times I’ve seen that guy, the ex, he never seemed to see her or pay attention to her.”

I listened with a riot of feeling twisting in my chest. Hearing this added another layer to who Willow was. It sounded like she leaned more into the emotional attachment—most women made emotional attachment more than purely physical. I began to wonder if this physical thing was something we could do without walking ourselves into some hard shit.

“… Earth to Tyler,” Ford waved his hand before my face, and I swatted at him.

“What?”

“You spaced out on us, man.”

“Just thinking about some stuff,” I mumbled. I felt their eyes on me, and I looked up. “I’m just reminding myself to get some stuff in town.”

“Oh,” Ford nodded, “Can you pick me up a six-pack of boxers, size—”

I balled up my napkin and threw it at him. “Go get your own plus-sized drawers, you big brute. I’m not touching a damn thing for you.”

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