Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Leaning against the counter, I said, “I have to say, when we walked into that house last night, I wasn’t expecting to see what we saw.”
Hudson raised his brows. “You’re telling me. I’m not sure what I should be more worried about: Willa twerking in a half T-shirt and short-shorts, or Greer dancing with a book and talking to Mr. Darcy.”
I couldn’t help it. I lost it laughing. Hudson smiled and shrugged as he reached for his duffle bag and tossed it over his shoulder.
Scrubbing my hand over my face, I stated, “Christ Almighty, I swear. Women are going to drive me to an early grave.”
Hudson nodded and packed the notebook he’d been using into his laptop bag. “That they will, but the ride will be fun as hell.”
My smile faded slightly as I thought to myself, Not always.
“Thanks for letting me crash at your place last night,” Hudson said.
“You bet, anytime.”
I walked with him out of the house and to his car. He put everything into the backseat, then reached for my hand. “Thanks again, dude. I’ll see you Thanksgiving night.”
“See you then. Enjoy your Thanksgiving.”
He slid into the car and called out, “You too!” He started his vehicle and headed down the driveway. Ken drove up at the same time, passing Hudson and parking his truck. He got out and made his way over to me.
“How’s everything looking for Friday?” I asked, motioning for him to come in before I froze my ass off.
Ken stomped his feet to get the little bit of snow off before he walked into the house. “It’s looking good.” He took off his coat and hung it on the coatrack. “They delivered the rest of the supplies for the wreath-making. If it’s as popular as it was last year, hopefully we’ll run out again.”
I smiled. My mother had come up with the idea of having a small craft/classroom area off to the side in the main barn where the shop was located. It was an empty room that we had mostly been using for storage, so the idea of using it for something else had intrigued me. I never expected the wreath-making classes to be so popular.
“You did see where I set some stuff aside for Thursday night, right?” I asked.
He nodded. “I saw.”
“You and the wife gonna be able to make it?”
“Nah, I wish we could, but we’re leaving early for Boston to see Jen’s folks. My parents drew Christmas this year, so thankfully we don’t have to try and juggle Thanksgiving between Boggy Creek and Boston.”
Laughing, I took a sip of my coffee. “Yeah, I remember the days of having to go see both sets of parents. This year, my mom and dad decided to head to New York.”
“Good for them,” Ken said. “I may do that next year—see the parade and all.”
I decided to get back to business. “Okay, opening day. We’ve got two guys doing the parking?”
Ken nodded.
“Bryce is going to handle baling the trees and loading the cars. I’ll help with that.”
“Figured as much,” Ken replied. He knew I liked seeing the looks on people’s faces when they saw their trees tied up and ready to take home to decorate. It was one of the reasons I loved Christmas tree farming so much.
“Is Noah going to be able to drive the tractor and trailer, since we’re cutting mostly from the upper hills? Some folks won’t want to make that long walk.”
“He was here late yesterday afternoon going over the path you want him to take, to make sure he had it down.”
Ken started talking about the number of people we should let in to keep it from being overcrowded, who would work the main gate, who was set to cut down trees if people didn’t want to cut their own, and who would keep up with all the supplies for s’mores and such. I rubbed at the back of my neck as my mind started to drift off. Every now and then I threw in a, “Good. That’s great. Sounds good.”
No matter how hard I tried, I could not get the image of Abby from last night out of my mind. That outfit. Her body. The way she’d felt in my arms. How she’d whispered my name and looked at me. The way we’d almost kissed…
“Bishop?”
Ken’s questioning tone brought me back to the moment. “Yeah?”
He chuckled. “You back now, dude?”
“Sorry,” I sighed. “My mind is on other things, I guess.”
“No worries. Just know everything’s taken care of for Friday. This isn’t our first time.”
“Thanks, Ken, I appreciate it. I know I haven’t been as present as I should be.”
He hit me on the side of the arm. “Nonsense, boss. It’s all good.”
“I’m going to run into town and pick up a few things. I thought I had a potpie for Thanksgiving, but it turns out I don’t.”