Page 12 of Sweet Yuletide (Indigo Bay Christmas Romances #4)

On Sunday afternoon, Michael inhaled the scents of sap and pine.

It reminded him of when he hiked with friends a month ago, but he wasn’t in a forest today.

He stood in a corner lot with Sheridan, who beamed brighter than a gold star tree topper, reaffirming his suggestion to celebrate the holiday together was the right one.

So what if he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone shopping for a tree? It was probably when he was in high school; his parents took care of that, but not much had changed since then.

Christmas carols played. Two women wearing candy cane–striped aprons, Santa hats, and snowman name tags, stood behind a table covered in tree needles underneath a white pop-up tent, decorated with garland and lights.

The table held bottles of tree food, packages of mistletoe, a cash box, and cups of coffee.

As people made their way up and down the rows of trees, a kid skipped while another spun with her arms extended. Two men debated the merits of a tree. One thing, however, was the same—everyone was smiling.

As Sheridan studied the price board, she shook her head. “We’re definitely not in Berry Lake.”

“More expensive than home?”

She nodded. “But since we’re splitting the cost, it won’t be that big a hit. And a few trees are on sale. We should buy one of those.”

Her tone was upbeat, but a weight pressed against him.

Just pay for the tree .

That way, she wouldn’t worry about money, and she could buy the tree she wanted.

So what if his winnings wouldn’t hit his account for a few weeks?

His team hadn’t decided what date a representative from Michael’s trust would turn in the ticket, but they would soon, according to his most recent phone call with them.

“We don’t have to find one on sale.” He didn’t have a lot in his bank account, but he had a credit card and planned to pay off the growing balance once he claimed his winnings. “I’ll get the tree.”

Her hands flew to her hips. “You’ll do no such thing. We’re in similar positions, and we agreed to split it.”

They had, but that was before she’d mentioned the price.

Her gaze narrowed. “We’re both paying.”

It wasn’t a question. Based on the set of her jaw, she wouldn’t give in. With three older siblings, he’d learned to pick his battles early in life. “Okay.”

Saying that, however, only brought a bitter cough syrup taste to his mouth. No matter what Sheridan believed, they weren’t in the same situation. Not even close. He would have millions—hundreds of millions—in the bank, and she would need to find a job and a place to live.

But he couldn’t tell her the truth. If he wouldn’t share the news with his family, how could he tell a near-stranger?

Besides, she’d never know, anyway. He had no reason to feel guilty.

“Now…” She rubbed her palms together, looking cute in her faded jeans, oversized sweater, and suede boots. “Let’s find the perfect Christmas tree.”

Her enthusiasm was a one-eighty from how she’d acted at the coffee shop yesterday. Today, she appeared lighter. It pleased him to know he’d played a part in that. “You pick the tree.”

Her smile disappeared, leaving parted lips in its place. “I thought we were doing this together.”

“We are.” The words rushed out. He’d do anything to light up her pretty face again. “But you’re better suited to be the tree picker. Me? I’m a pro at carrying heavy stuff to cars.”

The corners of her mouth tugged upward. “Teamwork.”

“Yes, teamwork.”

For two strangers, they made a good team.

Yesterday, while Sheridan checked out more of the shops on Main Street, he’d returned to the house and brought in the boxes of decorations Von had left.

They’d fixed their own dinners but ate together, discussing their favorite shows, movies, and music.

They didn’t have as much in common with those, but that made it more fun.

This morning, she’d stayed in her bedroom until it was time for lunch.

Funny, but he’d missed having breakfast with her.

“So, any preferences? Thin or bushy, short or tall?”

“I defer to your expertise, but it has to fit in or on my SUV. But don’t let the pressure get to you.”

“No worries.” She surveyed the rows of trees. “I’ve done this many times. You’re looking at an expert tree-picker.”

She was attractive, but her confidence appealed to him at a gut level. “Excellent, because I spoke to my mom this morning. She wants me to send her a pic once the tree is up.”

“That’s funny. My mom said the same thing to me.”

“Can’t disappoint the moms.”

“Nope, but thankfully mine is easy to please.” Affection filled her voice.

“You’re close to her.”

“She’s the best. I mean, she has her moments, as any mom does, but she’s so devoted to me, Max, and the rescue.

” Sheridan’s gaze softened. “When I was younger, I accused her of loving the animals more than me. Now, I realize animals often face life-and-death situations, and that must be her priority. That doesn’t mean I come second or don’t matter as much. ”

“Your mom sounds like a special person.”

With a nod, Sheridan headed to the first row of trees.

He would have enjoyed hearing more about her mom, but this probably wasn’t the best time, given how fast Sheridan moved.

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes bright and a wide grin on her face. “Are you coming?”

“Walk, don’t run. Or you’ll set a bad example for the kids.”

“I’m not running.” She stuck out her tongue at him. “I’m hurrying. We don’t want someone else to end up with our tree.”

“If that happens, then it wasn’t meant to be ours.”

“Philosophy major?”

“Social media quote. I can’t remember what platform.”

She laughed.

He caught up with her. The row had Noble firs, but he’d noticed Douglas firs when they parked. “Do you have a favorite tree?”

“Not really. My mom has her favorite, but I’ve always just picked one I’ve liked. How about you?”

“My mom always gets a Douglas fir. My sister Madison is all about Nobles. For me, a tree is a tree. Put some lights and decorations on one, and they all look nice.”

“Good to know you’re not picky.” As she peered around a tree, her gaze narrowed. “I’m spoiled with trees. In Berry Lake, we get a permit and cut our own.”

“In the forest?”

“Yes, but there are local farms you can visit, if you prefer to do that.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It’s a tradition in my family. Well, my mom’s side now.” Sheridan moved on to another tree. “We got ours two weeks ago. Snow flurries were coming down. It was almost…”

Michael noticed she didn’t mention her father and hadn’t since their visit to Sweet Caroline’s Café yesterday. He wouldn’t bring up the loser. The guy didn’t deserve a daughter like Sheridan. “What?”

A wistful expression crossed Sheridan’s face. “Magical. That was the only Christmassy thing I’ve done this year until now.”

“We don’t have snow, but a coastal Christmas can be just as nice as a white one.”

She glanced his way. “I can’t wait.”

Neither could he. “I’m honored you’re celebrating with me.”

Sheridan smirked playfully. “You should be.”

Before he could say anything, she continued along the row. She ran her fingers along the branch of a tree. “This is already dry. We should get a fresher one, so needles don’t end up all over Von and Hope’s place.”

“We also don’t want to bring in a fire hazard. Marley would never forgive me.”

“Hope and Von might not like it, either.”

“The ones you cut yourself must be super fresh.”

She nodded. “But one time, we ended up with hundreds of baby spiders.”

He shivered. “Talk about a nightmare before Christmas.”

“Not a fan of spiders?”

“Nope.” And they also weren’t something he wanted to discuss. “Do you yell ‘timber’ when it falls?”

“Of course. That’s part of the tradition, but someone holds on to it, so the branches don’t break.”

She’d mentioned tradition before. That gave Michael an idea. “Do you have a lot of Christmas ones?”

“A few, like cutting our Christmas tree and drinking hot spiced apple cider while we decorate it.”

“We can pick some up at the store if you’d like.”

She stopped. “That would be great. I mean if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t.” He spied a squat, bushy tree. The thing was as tall as it was wide. Not for him, but someone would love it. “Traditions are important. What are some of the others you do?”

“Bake cookies.” She checked out a tall, thin tree. “My grandparents were German. My grandma enjoyed celebrating Yuletide. She’d make these yummy cookies. The entire house would smell like them.”

“We should make them.”

“You bake?”

He shrugged. “How hard can cookies be?”

“True. I’ll ask my mom to email me the recipe.” She headed to a shorter tree. “We always have lasagna on Christmas Eve, and then we attend midnight Mass. How about you?”

“We spend Christmas Eve at one of my aunts’ houses.

She makes ham and turkey. Christmas dinner is at my parents’ house, and my mom serves prime rib.

” He might have to up his plans for those two dinners.

Maybe order takeout if any restaurants were open.

“Our big family tradition is making ornaments. Even though we’re all adults, my mom still makes us do it.

She puts up all the ornaments each year, even the ones we made when we were toddlers. ”

“That’s a lovely tradition.”

“It is, but we’d never admit it to her.” He laughed. “My brother, Mason, complains the loudest, but he also takes the most pride in his creations. He made one for his son, who is celebrating his first Christmas this year.”

“We should each make an ornament. I’m sure there’s a dollar store that would have some craft stuff.”

“That’s a great idea. We can leave them for Von and Hope as a thank-you gift for letting us stay at the cottage.”

“That’s sweet.”

Michael flashed her his most charming smile. “I can be as sweet as you want me to be. Even sweeter than Caroline’s pies.”

One side of Sheridan’s mouth lifted. “That’s quite a claim.”

His gaze locked on hers. “You’ll see.”