The Gritty Truth (The Whiskeys Dark Knights at Peaceful Harbor #7) - Melissa Foster Page 0,94
lazy?” she said, throwing his own words back at him. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Quincy. You’re stuck with me.”
As she lowered her lips to his, he said, “There’s no place else I’d rather be.”
Chapter Nineteen
THE HELMS TREE Farm was everything Roni remembered and so much more. It had snowed on and off all weekend, and by late Sunday afternoon, Peaceful Harbor was blanketed with several inches. The Helmses’ two dogs, each with a big red bow on its collar, greeted guests with wagging tails and sloppy kisses. Festive music blared from speakers, and colorful holiday lights twinkled against the flurries falling from the sky. People of all ages were bundled up in hats and scarves, meandering in and out of the gift shop and milling around the walk-up window of the weathered snack shack, drinking hot chocolate and warm cider. Children were running around playing, and families were sledding behind the gift shop. Others headed out to the fields, trekking between rows of lush trees with tufts of white gathered on their branches, while lucky tree hunters returned pulling their prized six- or seven-footers. There were horse-drawn wagon rides, the horses decked out with bells and bows, and a make-your-own wreath station under a pavilion. Roni snuggled closer to Quincy. He was smiling as he took it all in, flurries glistening on his gray beanie and black winter jacket.
This was exactly what they needed after a few stressful days. Since it was one of the busiest shopping weekends of the year, Quincy had worked all day Friday and Saturday, and today he’d worked until three. But Roni didn’t mind. It had given her time to shop with Angela for Christmas decorations and a gift for Josie’s party. She’d also picked up a few stocking stuffers for Quincy, which she was excited to give him. They’d stayed at his place the last two nights since she had the weekend off, and Quincy had surprised her with a key to his apartment Friday night so she could come and go while he was working. She loved being there. It was starting to feel more like home than her own apartment. Their evenings had been intimate and wonderful, but Simone had called a few times late at night, and it had taken Quincy a while to settle down afterward. There was a code of anonymity that went along with sponsorship, and while Quincy didn’t share details of their conversations, he’d explained that with substance abuse, when drugs are held out like carrots to a horse, even if the person in recovery is strong at the moment and turns away, the urges don’t stop there. Roni didn’t mind Simone’s calls. It had given her another level of perspective, and she liked how invested Quincy was in Simone’s recovery. He worked so hard; he needed today even more than she did. When he set those clear blue eyes on her and pressed his lips to hers, she could already see the good it was doing.
“Ready to get our tree, beautiful?”
“What do you think?” She tugged him toward the table where they were handing out tags to put on the tree they selected. The staff would cut down their tree as they enjoyed everything else the farm had to offer. She’d been anxiously awaiting this moment ever since Quincy had said they were going there, and she was too excited to walk.
“Come on!” She ran down a row, swiping her hand along the branches of the trees, sending the snow on them raining down. “Do you want a big tree or a small one? Fat or skinny? I think the sign said they had different types, too. Do you know anything about trees? Should we get one for your place and one for mine?”
He laughed and swept her into his arms, grinning from ear to ear. “I want this, baby—you, this happy and by my side, every single day.”
He kissed her hard and possessive, which turned slow and spine-tinglingly sensual, and just when she was sure they’d melt the snow beneath their feet, he pulled away, leaving her heart full and her knees weak.
“I’ll buy you as many trees as you want,” he said. “Where do you want to wake up Christmas morning?”
Her head was still swimming in his declaration, but she managed, “In your arms.”
“God, woman.” He touched his forehead to hers and said, “You’re killing me. I want that, too. Do you want trees at both of our places?”