Page 45 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell

“Huh?” Avery blinked. “West?”

I could tell that since the phones were in the car and she was now out of contact with Cat, she’d probably settle for a brittle, dying tree, just to leave the lot and return to the safety net of her party planner.

“Trees have directions, gorgeous.” I pointed to the tilt. “You don’t want a tree that leans west. Throws off the balance of the whole house.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You’re making shit up.”

“Am I?” I asked, straight-faced.

Izzy snorted into her hot chocolate she brought from the house. “Mom, I think he’s serious.”

“I think he’sbored,” Avery shot back.

I straightened, brushing my hands together. “Bored? No, sweetheart. I’m just committed to excellence. It’s what you love most about me.”

She gave me the look that meant I was pushing it, but I could see the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

The next hour of waiting for Jake and Collin to show up with their families was an art form of inefficiency.

I rejected trees for beingtoo symmetrical,too piney,not photogenic enough for the living room’s lighting. I made Addy test pine scents. I timed Izzy shaking snow off branches to see if it was worth the mess to have a flocked one or not. You know, stupid bullshit that no one cares about, but today I used my linear mindset to not close business deals, but to be the most obnoxious bastard at the Christmas tree farm.

I did note that Avery checked her watch every ten minutes. It cracked my ass up to see how concerned she was with Cat stating things were on track, when I personally knew they weren’t.

“Jim, this is ridiculous,” she said finally, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We’ve been here two hours.Two.”

“Good things take time, love.” I crouched beside another tree, tugging at the branches. “You can’t rush greatness.”

“I’m not rushing greatness. I’m trying to get home before dark.”

I feigned thoughtfulness. “Do you think the house is east-facing enough for a Douglas fir?”

She stared at me, jaw slack. “What?”

“Sunlight affects needle retention.”

“Jim. You’re high.”

I grinned, unbothered. “High on Christmas cheer, lover. You know, the thing you said I didn’t have a couple weeks ago?”

“Is that what this is about? Everyone calling you Scrooge?”

I shrugged, examining another tree, “Nah, I’m proving that I want to enjoy this day with my family.”

Around noon, I “accidentally” steered us toward the on-site food truck section.

“Kids,” I said, “it’s tradition to eat a fresh cinnamon roll before finally deciding upon the proper tree.”

“Tradition?” Avery repeated, exasperated. “We’ve never done this before.”

I shrugged, handing her a peppermint mocha. “Guess we’re starting one.”

“Does it bring us Christmas luck?” Izzy said, unsure if I was full of bullshit or if it was true.

We hadn’t gone over the nonsense I’d be making up to keep Avery on the lot all day.

“It brings the Christmas magic that your dad tried to dismiss this year, Izzy,” I heard Collin say from behind where we’d sat at a wooden picnic table.

“Laney,” Avery said with a smile. “This is a surprise. I’m so happy you’re here!” She smiled, and all worry about her planning vanished as soon as Jake and Ash filed in with their kids behind the couples arriving. “Hey, Ash!”