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T his couldn’t be happening. This simply could not be real. I had to be hallucinating because that was the only explanation for me walking the aisles in a big box department store shopping for fucking Christmas ornaments with Adrian Benedict.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

I glanced over at the man who had insisted for weeks--months even—that he didn’t celebrate holidays. Yet here he was with a full-size version of the Charlie Brown tree on top of his car, pushing a shopping cart, and doing something nice for me. My smile got wider when his gaze indicated confusion and just the tiniest amount of fear. His eyes narrowed at my expression.

“Don’t make me change my mind, Brynn,” he said. I wasn’t the least bit threatened, and he knew it. I made a ‘come here’ motion with my finger, then led him down the aisle with a seemingly endless selection of lights.

“Incandescent or LED?” I asked, holding up a box of each. If he was going to look to me for help, this tree would have colored lights—that blinked.

Adrian shrugged and waved his hand toward the cart, signaling that it didn’t matter. I wanted to be a bit more traditional, so I put a few boxes of incandescents in the cart.

We rounded the aisle and this one was full of everything one would need to decorate a tree. Garland, ribbon, bows, balls, ornaments, even tree skirts took up the next several aisles and they were all organized by color.

“Would you have a color preference?” I ventured.

“I suppose black is out of the question,” he said.

“Not necessarily, though it does go better with Halloween.”

“Who the fuck has a Halloween tree?” He sounded horrified at the thought, causing a most unladylike snort to leave me.

“There are people who have trees up year-round. They just swap out the holidays.”

“What the fuck is wrong with those people? Wait a minute—are you one of them?”

Laughing now, I shook my head. “Scouts’ honor, I’m not. But I do like to put up my tree right after Thanksgiving and I don’t take it down until January the sixth.”

I found the black section of decorations and asked if Adrian liked any of them. To be fair, they did look really refined and classy with the coordinated colors of black and silver. They weren’t really to my taste, but this tree wasn’t going in my house and if Adrian Benedict wanted black decorations, then that’s what we would leave here with.

“If we go with the black, we might want to switch to clear lights instead of colored.”

He picked up a black and silver tree skirt, turning it over as though he was picturing what it might look like in his space.

“What does a traditional tree look like? I barely remember what my mother did, though I seem to recall red.”

I nodded, my heart turning over in my chest at his admission that he didn’t remember childhood holidays. I found it incredibly sad and wanted to know why. Something told me not to outright ask, though. He wasn’t one to reveal much about his past and I didn’t want to cross a line. Not when he was giving me small nuggets here and there.

“Well, red and green are the traditional Christmas colors. Since you mentioned black, we could take a look on the next aisle where the store put the tartan plaid choices. There should be one you might like.”

I led him to the section I wanted to show Adrian and found the exact pattern I mentioned. He took the spool of ribbon I offered as a sample, studying it first before checking the shelves for the other items in the same pattern, then nodded his head.

“This won’t look like Santa and his reindeer have vomited Christmas cheer all over my house, so I’ll take it.”

Taking the ribbon spool from him, I tossed it in the cart, then began to add more ribbon, a tree topper, balls, various clear glass ornaments, and while he was engrossed in looking at tree skirts, I tucked a surprise in the small hand basket I held. I did a bit of shopping for myself since we were there and before long, I could tell Adrian had reached his holiday threshold.

“We even have wrapping paper and bows. I think we’re set,” I told him. I was still in slight disbelief that he had actually gone along with all of this. There was a fucking tree on the roof of his very expensive luxury car, and he had allowed me to advise him on decorations for his very expensive luxury penthouse.

Not even thirty minutes later, I rocked back on my heels, grinning from ear to ear at the sight of the sad little tree next to Adrian’s fireplace. He had surprised me by having a hand saw to trim the trunk. The tree was now straight in the stand, but it was bent just like the one in the Charlie Brown cartoon. It might have been my eyes playing tricks on me, but I could have sworn that the tree needles had perked up a bit.

I heard his phone buzz and he answered it, walking into another room for the conversation. That would give me time to add a few things to the tree. The first thing was a light blue blanket, which I wrapped around the base, very pleased with myself once it was done.

Since the little thing seemed so fragile to begin with, I had opted for the lightest decorations and not very much of anything. I had just plugged in the lights to test them when he came back in the room. It was all I could do to maintain composure at his appearance.

Adrian had changed into a T-shirt and grey sweatpants. Fucking hell. My heart rate picked up considerably, my mouth suddenly feeling like I had been chewing cotton. I briefly wondered if I would be able to string words together to form sentences. The man was drop dead gorgeous in a suit, but like this? With his hair ruffled and his feet bare? I was having a difficult time staying upright and the bastard knew it.

“The blanket is an amusing touch.” His voice was low and gravelly, and he sounded slightly tired. I nodded and concentrated on getting my mouth to work.

“Thank you. I believe in authenticity,” I managed to force out. My tongue suddenly felt two sizes too big. It was my turn to answer a buzzing phone and this call was Kevin giving me an update on Lug Nut. I thanked him, then turned back around to see the lights I had been testing already on the tree. It was ridiculously charming.

“I don’t suppose I could interest you in some Christmas music while we decorate?” I asked cautiously. The look I got in return was all the answer I needed. No Christmas music. Check.

We worked together in tandem, and I was struck by the fact that it felt so natural. Had he noticed that, too? Had he ever felt this way with Blair?

Shoving thoughts of my sister away, I put the hooks on the ornaments and handed them to Adrian, peeking through my lashes to watch as he placed an ornament, then moved it, then stood back to study it. I liked the fact that he was so invested in making sure things looked right.

His phone buzzed again, and he answered it, walking into the other room once more. It was so incredibly late. Was this how all his evenings went? I was struck then by how lonely it must be to come back to a beautiful but empty home. He had no animal for companionship, so there wasn’t even that to help take his mind off things.

Since there were actually ornaments on the tree, I could add my surprise and it might even be camouflaged for a bit.

Digging in the bag of items I had purchased, I found what I was looking for, crouched down toward the bottom and found just the right spot for the pit bull with a bee on its nose. I figured he would know that it was a reference to me and I hoped he might enjoy it once he saw it.

Hearing his voice get louder, I went back to the task of adding hooks to ornaments and laid them out on the coffee table where Adrian could choose what he wanted to hang next.

It wasn’t much longer before the tree was done and I stood back to admire the handy work.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear that little tree was standing a bit straighter. He’s rather proud of himself,” I mused.

“As proud of himself as you are of yourself?” Knowing exactly what he meant, I gazed upward, lifting a hand to graze his cheek.

“You didn’t have to do any of this,” I replied softly. “But I appreciate that you did. I think it’s a very nice tree and you are a very nice man.”

Adrian shook his head. “I’m not a nice man, Brynn. Don’t ever fool yourself into thinking that about me.”

I shrugged. “Too late. I already do.”