Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” I ask, making him chuckle.
“Took the afternoon off. You going to get Jordan?”
“Yep, and then heading to the store.”
“Not for Thanksgiving stuff, right?” he asks, quirking a brow.
“Umm… I never said we were going.”
“We’ll discuss that later,” he says. “Hop in, there’s somewhere we need to be.”
I glance at him skeptically, unsure what the heck he’s up to, but after a moment, I get in anyway.
After we’ve picked up Jordan, Pierce brings us back to our place. “Grab a coat and put on some boots,” he says.
I look at him, waiting for him to explain why, but when he stays tightlipped, I sigh and do as he says.
“Are you going to tell us where we’re going?” I ask after we’ve been driving for about thirty minutes.
“Nope, it’s a surprise.”
“Oh, I love surprises!” Jordan yells from the back seat, where she’s practicing reading a book her teacher gave her to bring home.
“I don’t,” I grumble, making Pierce laugh.
Fifteen minutes later, I spot a sign that reads: Mistletoe Christmas Tree Farm and my head whips around to look at Pierce, who refuses to make eye contact with me. The only indication he knows that I know is the small smirk on his lips.
We pull up to an adorable red barn and Pierce parks. Without waiting for anyone to help her out, Jordan unbuckles and opens the door, jumping out.
“Oh my God!” She squeals. “There are a million Christmas trees.” She rushes toward the tree closest and sighs in awe, having never seen a real tree in person like this before. When Trent was alive, we had a fake tree we reused to save money.
“Pierce.” My eyes fill with tears, knowing I’m going to have to admit that I can’t afford one and pop Jordan’s happy bubble. “You shouldn’t have done this. I can’t…”
He gently presses two fingers to my lips. “Consider this my gift to you.”
I should probably argue, tell him this is too much. But as my eyes return to Jordan, who’s smiling bigger than I’ve ever seen, my heart swells, and before I can think about what I’m doing, I wrap my arms around Pierce’s waist. “Thank you,” I whisper into his chest, ignoring the deliciously masculine scent emanating from him. “This means so much to her…and me.”
His entire body relaxes as if he was worried I wouldn’t accept his gift. “You’re welcome,” he says, pressing his lips to the top of my head. Butterflies attack my belly, and I immediately shoo them away. My heart might want to overlook the fact that Pierce is a firefighter right now, but it will definitely remember what he does for a living if I let him in and something happens to him. My only chance at keeping him at a distance, at protecting my heart, is to think with my head.
“I want this tree!” Jordan yells, pointing at a tree so tall it wouldn’t be able to stand upright in our living room.
“Not happening,” I tell her. “That tree is way too tall.”
We spend the next hour looking at dozens of trees, until we find the perfect one. It’s tall, but not too tall, thick and beautiful, and the perfect size for our place. The tree farm worker gets it wrapped up and puts it in the back of Pierce’s truck while we go into the barn for him to check out.
“Hot chocolate or coffee?” he asks, stopping at the warm beverages counter.
“Hot chocolate, please!” Jordan answers first.
“Same,” I agree. “I try not to drink coffee after three o’clock, or I’ll have trouble sleeping.”
“Three hot chocolates with marshmallows,” he tells the cashier.
While we’re waiting for our drinks, we check out the place. There are wreaths and decorations—both indoor and out—and…
“Mommy, look! A baby tree.” Jordan grins. “It’s so cute.”
“We’re already getting a tree,” I remind her.
“I know,” she says. “When I’m bigger, I’m gonna get two trees. One for Santa and one for my room so I can put all of Daddy’s ornaments on the tree. It’ll be like he’s with me in my room.”
I choke up at her words, hating that her dad is gone and wishing I could bring him back. Life can be so cruel sometimes. At least his mom was decent enough to give Jordan Trent’s ornaments after he passed away. I also found a few online that we previously bought together to replace the ones we lost in the fire.
“It is the perfect tree to put your dad’s ornaments on,” Pierce says with a warm smile, handing each of us our cups of hot chocolate. “I’m going to pay. Why don’t you guys go get in the truck where it’s warm?” He hands me his keys, and Jordan and I head outside.
Jordan stops at the back of the truck to admire the tree. “It’s going to be the best tree ever,” she says. “Thank you, Mommy.” She throws her arms around my waist and hugs me tightly before we climb into Pierce’s truck to wait for him.