Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 145731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 729(@200wpm)___ 583(@250wpm)___ 486(@300wpm)
Mia flashes a playful smile. “I’m betting on Isla’s team,” she says, then rushes ahead to the cottage.
“Betting?” I ask as she pauses to admire a tree up ahead in the sparkling packed snow. “Does she take after you or what?” Then I wince, realizing how that sounded. Of course she takes after him. She only has one parent. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put it like that.”
He slows his pace and looks me in the eyes. “It’s okay. I’m glad she takes after me and not Regina.”
I breathe a sigh of relief. “Oh, good. But she really does, Rowan.”
“Sometimes I feel like a selfish dick for being grateful I don’t see her mom in her,” he says, his jaw tensing, but then he seems to let the tightness roll off. “But mostly…I don’t. It feels right that I don’t.”
“She’s yours through and through. Even if she likes pears,” I say.
“Troublemaker,” he mutters. But he smiles as he watches Mia gallop off to the cottage to let the tree farm owners know she’s here—such a Mia thing to do.
And I want him to know I see his daughter. “I bet she’s going to let them know she’s here looking for a tree.”
“Yeah, she probably is,” he says, a proud smile on his face.
I set a hand on his sleeve. “I’m glad she has you. Really glad.”
“Me too,” he says, his voice full of a raw sort of emotion—one he clears with a cough as we reach the older couple who run the tree farm.
Mia’s busy asking about prices and the best trees and listening intently to their replies. When she’s done, she turns around, giving a crisp nod. “They have all sorts of trees. We can get a Douglas fir or a blue spruce or…” She taps her chin. “How would I approach this if it were a book?”
“And a book with so many choices,” I say. “There are so many things that go into finding a tree. The color, the smell, the height.”
Her eyes pop. “I get to sniff Christmas trees?”
“The sniff test is key to a good tree.”
“Let’s go smell trees, Isla.” She tugs my hand, and as we head down a row of trees, my heart skips a beat.
I look down at her white-mittened hand in mine, and it does funny things to my chest—makes it all soft and warm and full of a fond feeling I’ve never experienced before.
I swallow, a little uncomfortably, but only because there’s a knot of emotions in my throat. This girl is smart and clever and big-hearted, and she knows what she wants. How could anyone walk away from her?
But is this okay? Holding hands? Will Rowan think I’m trying to take, well, his place?
I steal a glance at him, and he nods as if to say keep going. I wonder if anyone saw us when we arrived. If they think we’re a real little trio now.
I shouldn’t care. But part of me does.
I try to shed that worry and others, let them drop behind me. But as we walk through the trees, I’m hardly thinking about anything else.
Well…that’s not true.
Lately, Christmas tree farms make me think of kisses outside in the snow, breathless moments, Rowan catching up to me, wrapping his arms around me, and tugging me close.
But I shelve all those lusty thoughts as Mia and I sniff trees. Eventually, until we find one she says smells just right. It’s a little spindly and missing a few branches, but the existing ones can be fluffed up.
“I like this tree,” she says.
“Let’s get it then,” Rowan says.
It’s not a transformation. He’s not suddenly Mister Jolly. But he’s not kicking and screaming either.
I count that as another success.
“Do you mind holding my jacket?” Rowan asks as he takes off his navy peacoat.
Do I mind? I insist.
“Not at all.” I smile, cat-like, and I offer my hand for the proffered item.
I enjoy the show as Rowan cuts the tree, carries it, and ties it on top of my car for the second time this season. When he’s done, I can’t look at Mia. I’m having wildly inappropriate thoughts about her father in his T-shirt. But hey, I do have a lumberjack kink.
We leave and drive back to the main road, the lights around my windshield twinkling all the way. I’ve never been to his house, but I know the way. I drive up a few hills just outside Evergreen Falls, where the homes are more widely spaced with each turn. The evergreens are taller here too. Denser. The air smells clean, like the forest that surrounds us.
On the final road, Rowan directs me to their home at the top of the street. “That’s us.”
“The two Bishops,” Mia says from the back.
I drink in the view as I pull into the driveway and cut the engine next to his car. He told me that they got a ride into town from Tyler earlier today so Mia could enjoy her Christmas car ride with me.