Tic-Tac-Mistletoe - N.R. Walker Page 0,29

You know, the delicious green bean things they serve at Japanese restaurants. I don’t think they come in a can though.”

“I’ve never had Japanese.”

He gasped, genuinely horrified. “Oh, we need to remedy that.”

I chuckled, liking how much that sounded like a promise. “Well, I don’t think we’ll find Japanese beans at the Home Market.”

Then he gasped again, louder this time, and he squeezed my hand. “No! I know what kind of bean you are.”

“Oh, God.”

“Close, but not quite.” He beamed. “You’re a coffee bean. Most prized bean in all the world. Or maybe that’s vanilla. I don’t know. But coffee. That’s the one. I’m going to get you a can of coffee beans.”

I laughed at how ludicrous this conversation was and loving every minute of it. “But now it won’t be a surprise.”

He deflated a little. “True. What if I take several cans of random things, take the labels off them? Then it’ll be a surprise every time you open one.”

I laughed and shook my head. “Did you want to choose a tree before we freeze to death?”

“Oh, yes,” he said, turning back to look at the trees, then he turned to me. “Is it fair to cut them down? I mean, this one’s cute but he’s just starting out. What if he could grow to be really big?”

Oh, good Lord. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Most of these will be felled at some point. It’s where I get my firewood from. The smaller trees at the back of the property are the ones I’ve replanted.”

“Oh.” He frowned and turned back to the trees. He studied them for a bit, then pointed to one in particular. “Well, what about that little one over there. He’s kind of crowded by the bigger trees, so chances are he won’t get to grow much.”

I could not believe he was concerned about the welfare of the little trees. It was funny and sweet in a way, but I wasn’t surprised. Funny, sweet, and a little bit quirky just about summed Hamish up.

He stayed by the house with Chutney while I cut down the tree, telling her all about what I was doing. I couldn’t make out everything he said, but he pointed and she listened, her ears up and tongue lolling out as if she understood every word.

And so help me, it made my heart skip a beat or two.

But I was excited for the tree now that I’d decided I was having one. By the time I’d dragged out all the Christmas decorations and got the tree stand all set up, we were thawed out, our boots were drying by the door, and Hamish had my fluffy socks on again. We ate some sandwiches on the couch, Hamish had his legs all tucked up under himself, and he nodded to the TV. “You mentioned you were going to watch movies.”

“I had planned to,” I said after I swallowed my mouthful. “But that was only to pass the time. I thought I was spending my three days off work all by myself. I have some books and a few old puzzles too. And I was absolutely going to binge-watch something on Netflix.”

“We could watch the cheesiest Christmas movies?” he said. “Or we could watch something not at all Christmassy if you’d rather not. The sport channel, even.” He said sport like the word tasted bad.

I chuckled. “Not a fan?”

“Some sport, yes. If there are men in tight uniforms, there’s a chance I’d interested.”

“Same,” I said with a smile. “But if we’re going to put up Christmas decorations, we should probably watch the cheesiest Christmas movies ever.”

He clapped his hands together and did a little wiggle on the couch. “Great answer.”

I laughed as I finished my sandwich and offered the remote to Hamish so he could choose the movie. He found The Muppet Christmas Carol and couldn’t hit play fast enough and then turned his attention to the tree.

How my Christmas had gone from a quiet, lonely non-event to a sweet and fun, not-lonely-at-all-event, with this cute Aussie guy who had literally crashed into my life, I had no clue. But one thing I knew for sure . . . Santa Claus might have given me the best gift ever.

Chapter Seven

Hamish

Ren sat the two big boxes of Christmas decorations he pulled down from his attic in front of the couch. I didn’t want to go through them like it was a bargain bin at a Gucci sale . . . Okay, that’s exactly what I