The Christmas Tree Read online

  “Why don’t you join us?” Allison asked. “I, for one, wouldn’t mind seeing you shake your stuff.”

  Sadie choked on a bite of sandwich and he patted her back while she coughed.

  “I already have plans, but thanks anyway. But maybe I’ll see you guys out there.” He finished his sandwich and tossed the wrapper into a nearby garbage can, acting as though he couldn’t care less either way. But his princess was going to let loose with the regular folk? No, he wouldn’t miss that. He’d make sure he and his friends found Sadie tonight.

  She turned to Allison. “Can you drive me home before we go out? I would like to scrape the tree sap off.”

  “No problem.” Allison pulled out her phone and asked to see Sadie’s. “I’m programming my number in, in case you need to get in touch. I’m also giving you Pete’s number. He’s our local tow truck driver and also Pineville’s only cab service. If I’m not available and you need a ride somewhere, he’s the man to call.” She finished typing and returned Sadie’s phone. “See you later.” Allison bounced away.

  “I was planning on driving you home.” Colt followed Sadie back to the tree.

  “And now you don’t have to bother.” She circled the tree and eyed it critically. She hesitated at his side, then continued her arc. “I have an idea for inexpensive decorations. I’ll buy some spools of wired ribbon and we can make bows to tie on the branches.”

  “Bows?”

  “It will look pretty,” Sadie said defensively. She grabbed some more boxes and started up the nearest scaffolding.

  “That’s my side.” He took the boxes from her and placed them on the raised platform, freeing up both of her hands to climb.

  “Does it matter?” She averted her face and started hanging more ornaments.

  “I guess not,” he said slowly. He watched her for another second before walking around the tree and opening a new box.

  The afternoon slowly passed. He climbed down to get another box and examined the tree to gauge their progress. They were down to about a quarter of their boxes and the tree looked decorated enough. A furtive movement caught his attention and Colt walked behind where Sadie stood ten feet above him. She took an ornament off the tree, put it back in a box, and placed a different ornament on the bough.

  “What are you doing?” he bellowed.

  She jumped and grabbed the railing, then slowly turned around. “Colt, I didn’t see you there.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.” He climbed up beside her and stared her down. “We’re supposed to be putting ornaments on, not taking them off.”

  “Yes, well, I’m just rearranging some,” she said lightly.

  “You must have an awful lot of time on your hands.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Between you checking your cell phone every five minutes, and yes, I’ve noticed that, and now rearranging ornaments I’ve already hung . . .”

  Sadie stared down at her feet.

  “That’s why you wanted to work on my side? You don’t like how I hang ornaments now?” Colt couldn’t keep his voice from rising. This woman was unbelievable.

  She brushed her bangs off her eyes. “Let’s not make a big production over it. But you were doing it wrong.”

  He gripped the railing on either side of Sadie’s hips, trapping her between his arms. He didn’t care for how his body reacted to her closeness, the low throb that began against his jeans, but he was just going to power through it. Lowering his head, he said softly, “How does a person hang an ornament wrong? There’s a hook, there’s a branch. Attach the two and you’re done.”

  She turned within his arms so she could point at the tree, all sorts of fun bits of hers rubbing up against him. “You hung all the small ornaments at the top of the tree and the large ones at the bottom. You have to mix it up.”

  “The small branches at the top won’t hold the bigger ornaments.” He shifted closer and inhaled the fruity scent of her shampoo. Apple.

  “Well, not the gigantic ones. But they can hold more than just the tiny balls. Your side of the tree looks idiotic with the ornaments all clumped together based on size.”

  He straightened abruptly. “Idiotic?”

  “Yes. And another thing, you’ve just hung the ornaments all on the outside of the tree. You need to hang some farther back on the boughs so the inside is decorated, too.” She turned once more and her breasts brushed his chest. Even with two jackets between them, Colt’s blood heated at the contact. “The way you’ve done it is very two-dimensional. The ornaments need more—”

  He put a finger against her mouth. God help him, he wanted to throttle the woman. Then kiss her soft lips. Then throttle her again. “Don’t say it. If I hear the word ‘depth’ one more time, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

  Sadie leaned back. “Okay. The ornaments need more . . . deepness. Satisfied?”

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and stepped away from her. She eyed him warily. “You’re not seeing anyone now, are you?” he asked.

  “What?” A wrinkle appeared between her eyes.

  “No man could possibly take your bitching over every little detail. They all turn tail and run after one date, right?”

  Her arm was a blur. Before he understood what had happened, the plastic ornament bounced off his forehead.

  “Screw you, Colt,” she said. “Just because I can decorate a tree so it doesn’t look asinine doesn’t make me a perfectionist. I’m done for the day.”

  She climbed off the scaffolding and Colt let her. This was the second day in a row that Her Highness had left early. It would serve her right if he ratted her out to Jerome. He climbed down and stomped around the tree, kicking an empty ornament box as he passed it.

  “More depth!” he muttered. “God save me from crazy women.” He glared at the tree as he circled it, his stamping feet moving slower and slower until he finally stopped. “Well, goddamn it.” He walked around the tree again, looking at the ornaments he had hung and the patches that Sadie had corrected. The parts he had hung did look stupid. It was too . . . organized, or something. But the hell if he’d tell the princess that.

  He took bracing breaths and told himself to calm down. She had tried to be nice about fixing his ornaments. And he had flown off the handle. Again.

  He had to face facts. He’d been a jerk. Sadie’s corrections were valid and she’d tried to make them without hurting his feelings.

  Two things were clear. Colt owed Sadie yet another apology. And she had one hell of a throwing arm.

  Chapter Six

  The rapid beat of drums reverberated through Sadie as she and Allison stepped into Pins ’N’ Pints, Pineville’s premier bowling alley/bar/dance club. Sawdust stuck to the soles of her heels as she clicked across the wooden floor, and the smell of stale beer tickled her nose. Lanes lay a few feet below the main floor of the bar, busy with customers drinking beer and giving each other high fives. To the left, a dance floor was hopping with couples and groups of single women shaking their stuff. A rock band played on a small stage next to the dancers.

  Allison dragged Sadie to the one empty stool in front of the bar and nudged the man next to Sadie with her elbow until he reluctantly gave up his seat. “Isn’t this great?” she yelled.

  Sadie leaned in closer to Allison. “That will depend entirely on the quality of the liquor. And its cost.”

  The blonde flapped her hand dismissively. “If we do it right, it won’t cost anything.”

  “Do what right?” Sadie asked, but Allison was waving at friends across the room.

  The bartender stepped in front of them and Sadie ordered a seven and seven. “What do you want?” she asked Allison. “First round’s on me.”

  Allison rolled her eyes but gave the bartender her order and swiveled her stool to face Sadie. “So, the tree is looking good. You guys are making a lot of progress on it.”

  “Thanks, but I think we have an ornament shortage. I’m going to buy some ribbon tomorrow to make bows, but that can only
do so much. I’m afraid Pineville is going to have a minimalist tree this year.”

  Allison took a sip of her drink. “I have some extra ornaments I don’t use. You’re welcome to them.”

  “I’ll definitely use them, but unless you’re an ornament hoarder, your extras won’t make that much difference.” Sadie’s eyes lit up. “But maybe other people have extras. We could ask the town to contribute. That could even be the theme of the tree. Community. Fellowship. The participation of Pineville could give the tree more meaning.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Allison said, sounding excited. “I can make up flyers and hand them out at the café. I know the local fourth-grade teacher. I bet she could get our students to make some ornaments as a project. And we’ll ask for contributions of special ornaments, ones that have some significance to the donor, not just the plastic balls you can get from any drug store.”

  Sadie took a swallow of her drink, the heat of the whiskey sweeping through her body. “We can’t be too picky. We need ornaments of all kinds. And they have to be weatherproof.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll put that on the flyer. Don’t worry, this will be great. The only problem is Miss Eugenie and Mrs. Garcia. Who knows what ornaments they’re liable to contribute. I hope it won’t be the cuckoo clocks.” She shuddered.

  “What is the deal with those two? I keep hearing about a fire . . .”

  A man standing behind Allison’s stool quickly made the sign of the cross. He leaned in to their conversation. “Last year was horrible. My girlfriend at the time lost an eyebrow.”

  “What happened?!” Sadie bounced on her seat.

  “Well, the tree twins—”

  “That’s Miss Eugenie and Mrs. Garcia,” Allison said.

  “Right,” the man continued. “Well, they had this idea to have a special finale for the ceremony. For some reason they chose ‘Good King Wenceslas’ as the music for the lighting and they turned on different light strands in time to the music.”

  “That was pretty cool,” Allison admitted.

  “Well, at the end of the song, Miss Eugenie had something special planned. She had a handheld—”

  Allison broke in again. “No, it was Mrs. Garcia.”

  The man shook his head. “No, it was Miss Eugenie. She was wearing that stupid hat with the bird—”

  “I don’t care!” Sadie yelled. “Just tell me what happened.”

  Two pairs of eyes stared at her in surprise. Allison elbowed the man in the gut and he let out a soft poof of air. “You’d better tell her. She knocks over light poles when she’s angry.”

  Sadie gave her a narrow look.

  “Yes, well, Miss Eugenie had bought a handheld fireworks launcher. She wanted to send a shooting star–type firework over the tree at the end of the song. It didn’t work out that way.”

  Allison took over the story. “Midway through ‘King Wenceslas,’ an off-duty fire marshal noticed what Mrs. Garcia was up to and tried to stop her. He took it out of her hand, she grabbed it back, it went off, and, well, it didn’t clear the tree.”

  “I didn’t know a tree covered in snow could go up like that.” The man took a swig from his beer bottle.

  “It was just a dusting of snow,” Allison said.

  Sadie slumped back on her stool. “My God, that’s horrible.”

  Allison nodded her head. “Yeah, someone could have been killed.”

  “Well, that too.” Sadie knocked back the rest of her drink. “But a coordinated light show. Music. Fireworks. That’s too much to live up to. The tree this year is going to look pathetic in comparison.”

  Allison patted her hand and signaled the bartender for another round. “This town could really use a nice, quiet tree-lighting ceremony. Just keep doing what you’re doing and don’t worry about the rest.”

  “Yeah, people almost getting killed two years in a row will make folks happy to have a normal tree.” The man rested his hand on the back of Allison’s stool, leaning in closer. He looked like he was becoming less interested in the conversation and more interested in looking down her friend’s shirt.

  Sadie pinned the man with a pointed stare, before saying, “I’m almost afraid to ask. What happened two years ago?”

  Allison bounced in her seat. “That was even better. The tree twins had some theme like ‘Christmas through Time’ or some such thing and stuck all these cuckoo clocks in the tree. Well, after a heavy snowfall, the branches bent under the weight and”—she smacked both palms together—“splat! Clocks started raining down, smashing on the ground, wood and gears flying everywhere.” She took a large gulp of her drink. “It was awesome.”

  “It was pretty good, but the fire was more exciting.”

  Allison shook her head. “Clocks raining down from the sky. Need I say more?”

  The man held out his hand. “I think this argument should continue on the dance floor. Shall we?” Taking his hand, Allison sauntered to the center of the floor, arguing with the man the whole time. In her pink halter dress and cowboy boots, her friend caught a few appreciative glances. With her platinum hair and killer curves, Allison was rocking the Marilyn Monroe look. Sadie regarded her own attire of dark blue jeans and a scoop-neck sweater and sighed lightly. There were times when you just had to admit you were outclassed.

  She nursed her drink, observing the action around her. The clacking of tumbling pins could be heard over the music. Couples swayed together slowly as the band played a rare slow song, and laughter percolated from all corners of the bar. Sadie wished Ann Arbor held such a gem.

  A gust of cold air swept over her as more patrons pushed in through the front door. A group of four men laughed easily with each other, one giving his buddy a small shove. Among them was a large mountain of a man with a scruffy face that she knew all too well. Colt.

  His eyes met hers across the room. Saying something to his friends, he headed her way. She tried to ignore the sudden thumping in her chest. He took Allison’s empty seat, and as he leaned in to signal the bartender, Sadie could smell the hint of musk and pine that was his unique scent. Her stomach clenched.

  The bartender brought his beer, and Colt stared at Sadie over the bottle as he took a long swig. His green eyes appeared darker in the bar’s low light, almost black. He finally spoke. “You haven’t thrown your drink in my face yet. That’s a promising start.”

  “Start to what?” She remembered she was angry with him and shifted back in her stool.

  “To my apology.” He sighed. “You really are giving me a lot of practice at this.”

  “You say that as though it’s my fault you’re a jerk.” Sadie knew she shouldn’t, two was her limit, but she waved her empty glass at the bartender.

  “No, my behavior is my own. But there’s something about you that I do find very . . .”

  “Yes?” she asked sharply.

  “I’m trying to think of an adjective that won’t warrant another apology.”

  Her eyes narrowed.

  He laid a calloused hand over hers on the bar. “Let’s just say that you get under my skin. I’m not sure that I like it.”

  “Since we both seem to get on each other’s last nerve, I would say it’s obvious that you don’t.” Sadie freed her hand and reached for her refill. She slid from her perch and pulled some bills from her pocket.

  He stayed her hand again. “As part of this apology, I’ll pick up your tab tonight.”

  “Well . . .” She considered this and a small smile tipped up the corners of her lips. “This is my third and Allison’s two drinks are on my tab, as well. How sincere is this apology? Does it cover five drinks?” She took a sip, then licked some whisky-laced soda off her bottom lip.

  Colt’s eyes flickered to her mouth. “It’s pretty sincere. But for that much drinking, I think I want a little something more in return.”

  “What’s that?”

  “A dance.” He took her drink, placed it on the bar, and led her to the dance floor. A rock song with a pulsing beat was playing, but
Colt drew her in close and slowly moved her about the crowded space.

  She tried to keep some distance between them. To remember that this man was a thorn in her side. But the heat from his body drew her nearer, the wide hand that spanned her lower back burning her like a brand. He brought her right hand to rest against his chest and she had to stifle a sigh of pleasure. She swayed in his arms, her limbs feeling heavy, lethargic. When she finally rested her head on his shoulder, the sense of contentment that hit her nearly knocked her off her feet. Luckily, Colt had a strong grip around her waist.

  “I am sorry about what I said today.” His words roused Sadie from the languor she was feeling. “I’m sure there are lots of guys who would want to be with you.”

  “Thanks.” Did Colt include himself in that group?

  “Are you seeing someone? Is that why you were checking your phone all day?” The muscles in his shoulder tensed under her fingers.

  “No, it was business. Well, hopefully business. Oh, damn, I’m out of business.” To her surprise and horror, Sadie’s eyes filled with tears and she turned her face into Colt’s cable-knit sweater. “Damn it, I’m not going to cry,” she mumbled into his chest.

  His hand rubbed her back until her breathing evened out. Placing a finger under her chin, he raised her face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “There’s not much to say. I’ve been losing money for the past two years and I have to sell my business now or lose my condo in Ann Arbor. There’s a potential buyer and I’ve been waiting for her to call.” She flushed and cast her gaze down. “I was looking for her text when I hit the light pole.” Sadie looked back up. He pressed his lips together, a hard line.

  “I’m sorry about your business,” he said, fixing his attention on a spot over her shoulder. “I know the real estate market has really been down in this state for a while now.”

  She heard the distance in his words, felt chilled. He hadn’t forgiven her for his truck. She forced herself to step back, put an inch of space between their bodies. They continued dancing without speaking.

  As the song wound down, she searched for Allison, hoping for an easy escape. Another was provided.