Page 126 of Her Billionaire Bargain (Kensington Square)

But I had very specific requirements, so once Shelby and Berry wandered off to look at God-only-knows-what, I cornered Clay, the owner of the tree farm. “Do you have like twenty-foot trees?”

He cocked his head, his windswept dark hair falling over his brow. “Twenty feet? What kind of ceilings do you have, man?”

I laughed harder than I’d meant to. “Not that high. Or as high as you’re picturing. I have a specific idea in mind for a very ornate Christmas display.”

“I guess so. Outside?”

“Nope.”

His clear puzzlement made me laugh harder as I took out the crumpled page from the magazine I’d happened across at my mom’s one day. Clay took it from me and scanned it, turning his head sideways to examine the included photos from all angles.

“You have a woman—or a man, I assume. Family?”

“Right first guess and second. Not both woman and man.” I shook my head at my own verbal fumble. “Woman and family. First Christmas. Want to do it up big. You know?”

His gaze softened as he scanned the lot until I pointed out my family, currently browsing the arrangements of real wreaths displayed on pegs on wooden racks. Some were already decorated, and others were basically bare other than a big floppy bow in festive Christmas colors.

I blinked through the snow, now falling a lot faster than it had been just a few minutes ago. “I need a huge tree I can chop in parts. Or you can chop in parts. And um, deliver to my home like this evening? I’d also like to have the, what’s it called? Root ball attached? So, we can plant it in the yard after.”

“You have a decent-size property?”

“I do. A couple acres.”

He stroked his dark scruff thoughtfully. “Yeah, we can fix you up.”

“Tonight though? Both my girl and my daughter,” I only stumbled slightly on the word, since I’d been practicing saying it more, “have stuff to do out of the house, but I’ll be home.”

Berry was going to a classmate’s birthday party and Shelby had some design symposium thing she was attending in downtown Kensington Square for Dahlia, who’d gotten a bug and couldn’t go. Shelby was tasked with networking and taking lots of pictures.

I was tasked with turning our house into a Christmas wonderland amazing enough that Shelby would agree to marry me, and Berry would too. Not to marry me, but to be my family. They were already but I wanted to make it official.

Neededto make it official.

Clay’s head whipped my direction. “So, you have a narrow window tonight for it to be delivered and decorated, I’m guessing?”

I winced at the slight panic in his expression. “Well, I was hoping. If it was doable. Is it doable?” Before he could answer, I held up a hand. “I have some friends coming over to help decorate. So, don’t think it’s all on you.”

“Now I feel so much better.” He arched a brow. “I’m assuming you have a healthy budget.”

“Yes, I do. Healthier than my sense of timing.”

Now it was his turn to laugh long and loud as he clapped me on the back. “We’ll get you fixed up. Don’t you worry. Why don’t you go help your girls buy a wreath while I set aside a tree for you to approve then we’ll start planning the next step?”

My breath came out in a big whoosh. “That sounds really good.” We started to walk across the lot crowded with families. “So, you think this sounds sensible?”

“I wouldn’t say sensible, necessarily, but doable is sensible’s first cousin. And I get being in love and wanting to give your significant other an experience they’ll never forget. I just got married not long ago myself.”

“Oh, did you? Congratulations. That’s awesome.”

“Yeah. Scary as hell if you sit and think about all the what ifs, which I do not recommend.”

“Not my way. I have ADHD. Basically, my mind flits from one thought to another with no rhyme or reason.” Just like the daughter thing, I was practicing telling more people about my diagnosis. I was sick and tired of hiding it. There was no reason to.

And if hearing about it helped someone else, well then, even better. I also wanted to make sure Berry had a good example when it came to not feeling she needed to keep her diagnosis a secret.

We had nothing to be ashamed of.

“My wife used to deal with anxiety. She still does sometimes. All of us have something. Or multiple somethings. Just gotta take it day by day.” He clapped my back. “I’m going to go talk to my team while you and your ladies pick out fun stuff to go with your ginormous tree.”

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