The tree was surrounded by stumps like all its friends had been chopped down. It was tall,imperfect, lonely … and beautiful.
Of course Grace loved this tree.
When I looked at my sister, her blue eyes mirrored how I felt.
I shifted my weight and Grace looked up, sniffled and ran a gloved finger under her eye. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt your search. Did you find a good one?”
“We did,” I said, voice ragged as I moved boldly towards her tree, carrying the small saw they’d loaned us at the barn. “Mom will love this one.”
She gestured towards the rows of desirable trees we’d left. “There are better choices, this one’s not full enough.”
“This one’s perfect,” I said in my gruff ‘the decision has been made’ tone. “Are you cutting it down to bring it home, or am I?”
She hesitated when I held out the saw. “Cutting down the tree was Isaac’s job.”
“You or me, Grace,” I said. She tentatively took it as I squatted, relieved to see a skinny trunk. She slid her lithe body under the branches and moved like she didn’t want to hurt the tree. This was going to take forever. Shit.
After some quick mental calculations, I called over Mallory. “When I say the word, give it a strong shove from right here,” she lined up exactly where I told her. “Push it in that direction, so it doesn’t fall on Grace.”
She nodded, her face serious. If I were alone under the tree, she might have landed it on my face … but I couldn’t imagine her messing with Grace.
I squatted again. Grace had made good progress, but it was slow-going.
Lowering behind her, I wrapped my hand around hers to press harder into the trunk. Whenever her arm bent, her back hit my chest.
“Slow and steady,” I murmured against her ear, and she released a ragged breath. I shifted my grip on the saw so my fingers were between hers, pressing into the trunk. After a few more strokes, I stilled our hands and whispered, “Ready?”
I covered her head with my arm to protect her from all the dropping pine needles — and possibly Mallory’s overzealous assistance — and hollered, “Go ahead, Shrimp.”
With a dramatic push, Mallory roared, “Timberrrrrrr!”
The tree fell away, the shadow giving way to the starry sky. Grace released a victorious whoop that resonated through my torso and made my cock twitch.
Mallory traipsed off to find the tree farmer, who’d already agreed to string and carry it to the truck. Grace stood and held out a hand. I let her tug without budging an inch, then smirked and lifted myself.
“Thanks, Alex,” she said, eyes sparkling. My gaze dropped to that incredible smile. Her lip was pale, her teeth were chattering, and her gloved hands were cold.
I pulled off my scarf, ignoring her complaints about it being too nice and looping it around her neck. My fingers lingered on the fringes, rubbing her biceps. When she tilted closer, I opened the flaps of my wool coat to share my warmth.
The moon chose that moment to escape the clouds, illuminating her clear, olive skin. Her pupils dilated in reaction to the new light, and her hazel irises reflected all the beauty around us: the tree’s moss green, the earth’s tawny brown, the twinkling lights’ golden shimmer.
“Alex,” her voice was a quiet rasp as her eyes scanned my face, her fingertips grazing my waist. “What are we doing?”
“Warming up,” I said, pink rising into her cheeks as I bent closer, eyes on that perfect mouth. “I wouldn’t want you to — Oh fuck!” I yelped, leaping away as my vulnerable neck was suddenly frigid with snow down my collar. Mallory’s malicious cackle rang out as another snowball landed above my cheek.
When Grace stifled a laugh, I asked dryly, “You think this is funny?”
She bit her thumbnail, amusement overriding her politeness. “Hysterical.”
“I have snow in my eye,” I complained in a bid for sympathy.
“Oh, poor baby,” she feigned compassion, tapping my cheek patronizingly.
I scoffed, annoyed. “She’s so childish.”
“Not childish,” Grace corrected, “child-like. Her silliness is one of my favorite things about her, and I think, secretly, you like it too.”
She grabbed a handful of snow and tossed it at my chest. Another snowball smacked me above the kidney in a coordinated assault. I spun to my smug sister, then twisted for Grace’s reaction, but found only footprints.
"Good news!" A snowball flew past me as Mallory yelled from my left. “I saw a dog today.”
“Have you seen a dog?” Grace yelled from my right, voice rough with laughter as her snowball hit Mallory’s knee, leaving me totally out of their fun. I should be relieved to be excluded … but I wasn’t. “You probably have.”
“Do you have any friends?” Mallory asked, hitting Grace in the neck, right on my scarf. Dammit, I’d just warmed her up. “Do you have a best friend?”
“Does he have a big coat too?” Grace tossed one at my chest, smacking over my heart.
They stilled, cheeks flushed and chests panting, faces lit up with hesitant laughter as they gauged my reaction. After a final moment of deliberation …
I pointed at my sister. “You’re dead, Shrimp.”
“Only if you catch me!”
Grace was right: My sister really was childlike, zig-zagging between trees and yelling “Polo” to lure me into the chase while Grace yelled “Marco” to draw her out. Even the few people around the farm laughed at Mallory's antics.
When I glimpsed her pink hat and blonde ponytail, I lunged to grab her around the waist. She screeched as I tossed her over my shoulder, smacking her fists against my back and pleading dramatically, “Gracie, save me!”
Grace shouted back, “It’s every woman for herself!”
