She was a marketing genius.

  Now we had a little place where customers could take photos with their trees before we packed them up to go to their forever homes. For someone who had been so resistant to getting an iPhone, Rachel sure knew how to work the social media aspects of a business.

  “You’re a wonder, Rachel.”

  Her gaze lifted to mine. “Not really.”

  “Oh, you definitely are. This is more than I ever expected when I asked you to help out with the CocoaBus.”

  She shrugged. “It was all here. I just zhuzhed it up a little.”

  “Zhuzhed? Is that a technical term?”

  She bumped me with her hip. “You had all the pieces. I’m just really good at prettying things up.”

  “You’re more than that.” Again, she looked down. This time, I tipped up her chin so our gazes were level. “So much more.”

  She cleared her throat and stepped back. “Well, you’ll be happy to know my newsletter this afternoon got a great response. I asked people to click on an RSVP so I could get an idea of numbers and we’re definitely going to need all hands on deck.”

  Her eyes shone and I was pretty sure she was clenching her fists in her pockets.

  “You know those numbers are usually inflated.”

  “Even inflated, we’re going to be busy.”

  I turned her toward me and rubbed her arms. “Don’t worry. It’s going to be amazing.”

  She nodded quickly. “I know.”

  I frowned at the hitch of nerves I heard in her voice.

  She gave me a bright smile. “It’s going to be amazing.”

  I wasn’t quite sure if she was agreeing with me or trying to convince herself.

  Chapter 20

  Rachel

  The Chaos Bus

  We worked at the Christmas Tree Farm until well after ten. Both of us too exhausted to do much more than feed Gary, eat leftover carbonara, and fall into bed. He woke me in the shadows, the sex an inch away from desperate.

  Did he feel the time leaking away too?

  The nerves for tomorrow?

  I stared at the ceiling for most of the night, his heavy arm clamped across my middle. If anyone would have said I’d enjoy being pinned to a king-sized bed, I’d have laughed in their face. And yet, here I was.

  Idly, I trailed my fingers up and down his forearm, the lazy motion calming my mind.

  My to-do list had branches on its branches. Everything needed to be perfect. Now that I had a phone again, I was obsessively checking my lists, the weather, and the responses from the newsletter.

  Would we have enough product at the CocoaBus?

  Would we sell out of the trees even before we had our official opening?

  Should we hold back some trees?

  When had I started saying we?

  “Put the phone down.”

  The muttered voice made my heart leap in my chest.

  “Never thought I’d have to say that,” he muttered against the pillow.

  “I’m just making sure…”

  He plucked the phone out of my hand and put it on the bedside table on his side of the bed. Then he rolled us both onto our sides, me the little spoon. “Whatever you missed—”

  I stiffened against him.

  “And I know you didn’t miss anything, but if you did, we’ll be fine.” He pressed a kiss to my neck. “Do I need to distract you again?”

  “You need your sleep.”

  “So do you.” He lightly combed his fingers through my hair.

  The monotonous stroking settled me. The next thing I knew, the sun was streaking its way over the bed. He was gone, the sheets cool.

  I crawled across the bed to find my phone. He’d thoughtfully plugged it in. I swore when I saw the time and bounded out of the bed and almost crashed into him.

  “Whoa. Where’s the fire?” He caught me around the waist, spinning us around in the process.

  “It’s eight.”

  “Yeah and the lot doesn’t open until ten.”

  “I have to set up the CocoaBus. Why did you let me sleep?”

  “Because you didn’t sleep until nearly three.”

  And my grainy eyes demonstrated that fact, but I still had too much to do.

  He sighed. “I made breakfast. Come down and eat.”

  “We don’t have time—”

  “It’s going to be crazy today. Eat now in case we are too busy later.” He cupped my face. “We’re so ready.” Then he slid his hand down my shoulders to my back, inching up my oversized T-shirt.

  “Definitely don’t have time for that.”

  “It’s the best way to start the day.”

  “And end the day?”

  “Absolutely.”

  I tried not to smile, but it was impossible. He was far too adorable. His dark curls were sleep-mussed and he had this little cowlick at the back sticking up.

  He grinned back. “See, you know it’s true.”

  “What’s for breakfast?”

  His eyebrow rose.

  “Funny.” I pushed him back, enjoying his smooth skin and the crinkle of hair on his chest, but not enough to be distracted.

  “I made some omelettes. I figured it would fuel us up better than pancakes.”

  “Tomorrow.” The word flew out of my mouth. Like I expected to stay another night?

  “Deal.” He headed out the door, but paused when I didn’t follow. “Problem?”

  “Nope.” I rushed after him. The scent of bacon hit me and made my mouth water.

  His legs were longer and he was already plating our food when I came down the stairs. He had a towel flipped over his shoulder and the breakfast bar set for us.

  “I got one of those pour-over coffee things you like, if you want to make some.”

  I blinked. That hadn’t been there yesterday. I wasn’t sure how he made it look so effortless to make allowances for things I liked.

  I nodded and used the grinder he’d also gotten for me. I spotted his Keurig on the opposite side of the massive kitchen. Yeah, he definitely had gone out of his way for me.

  I wasn’t sure what to think about that so I put the thoughts in a box and turned on the electric kettle.

  He backed up toward me, holding out a piece of perfectly crispy bacon. Why did that feel more intimate than me going down on him in the damn living room?

  He tipped his head and when I didn’t immediately open my mouth, he shrugged and took a bite. “Are we having another Joey moment?”

  “No. Of course not.” Now I was making it weird. Great. I opened my mouth and took the other half of the bacon. “Perfect.”

  By the time I finished the coffee and made it the way we both liked—me, all the cream and sugar, him just a splash of cream—I found ripe tomatoes sliced on the plate and a three-egg omelette full of mushrooms, cheese, and bacon, as well as more slices of bacon and a piece of sourdough toast.

  “Do you do this for all your lovers?”

  “Lovers?” He slid his arm along my waist. “So formal.”

  “I mean that’s what we are, right?”

  “I guess.” He shrugged. “I thought we weren’t going for labels.” He shifted behind me and put both hands on my hips, shuffling me out of the kitchen and around to the stools. He nuzzled my neck before sliding the stool out for me.

  “Sorry. I’m not used to…all of this.”

  “All of what? Kindness?”

  “Rich guy cooking for me twice in the space of two days, I guess.”

  “Ahh. You must have dated some fun guys.”

  That was a little too close to home. I’d dated more at the start of my career than at the end. I never seemed to have time for myself. “They were…competent.”

  “Competent. Wow.” He sat next to me and waited for me to pick up my fork before digging in.

  Manners through and through. Maybe that was all it was. He’d been taught to entertain. It had been my life as well, but I’d handled the behind the scenes aspects in the corporate sphere rather than entertaining a partner.

  “So, what’s the game plan today?” Talking about the tree farm was far easier.

  We chatted about the schedule for the day. We had a few fun things planned around noon, a drawing for one of the Townes’ hybrid trees, and an artist was coming in to do some personalizations for the scrap wood I’d rescued from the cuttings.

  After we ate, I pushed him out of the kitchen to take a shower while I cleaned up. By the time I got upstairs, he was already half dressed. I wasn’t sure why I was so sad to see the cowlicks now tamed. I wonder if his little boy would have the same.

  Okay, where did that come from?

  I rushed by him, twisting my hair up as I went by. “I’ll be out in five.”

  He followed me into the bathroom. “You can’t be human.”

  I turned him right around. “Washing my hair would take time and it’s cold. I’ll just put it up.”

  He looked over his shoulder. “That’s a thing?”

  “It’s definitely a thing.” I laughed as I shut the door in his face.

  And okay, it took seven minutes. I couldn’t quite pull myself away from his super high-end shower heads. Sweet, sweet water pressure.

  I put on a little makeup so I didn’t look like I was a teenager, then came out in my towel. He was on the phone by the window, and man, his superior ass looked especially impressive in his dark-washed jeans.

  I didn’t have time to think about his jeans, or what was under them. I dug into my overnight bag and found my layers for the day.

  The only problem with working at the Christmas Tree Farm was the need for copious amounts of layers. The bus got hot, but we were also outside all day.

  I was wiggling into my Cuddl Duds when he came up behind me. “Those aren’t my grandmother’s long johns.” His hand slid down the silky material covering my butt.

  I laughed, but I didn’t push him back right away. “The special material keeps me warm.”

  “I like them.”

  “They are not attractive.”

  “You wearing anything is attractive.”

  With a roll of my eyes, I did push him away that time. “Why don’t you go warm up the truck?”

  He gave a deep sigh. “Fine.”

  I grabbed his red and black plaid shirt before he could got too far and dragged him down for a long kiss. “Just in case we’re too busy.”

  His dark eyes held that wild edge. “Still gotta christen the CocoaBus.”

  “Maybe later.”

  I was still smiling after he left. Without the distraction, I was able to get dressed quickly. When I got downstairs, I found Gary in his new favorite spot, the cushions of the bench seat at the mini dining room table.

  Clay had a larger formal dining table at the back of the cabin in a four-seasons room. The sheer size of his house was staggering. I hadn’t even gotten to check out the second floor.

  I gave Gary a quick scratch and checked his food bowls on my way out the door. Of course Clay had thought to fill them up. He had also set my bag by the door with a to-go mug of coffee.

  He thought of everything.

  I checked my phone as I ran down the drive to meet him, then I opened the door. “Mary is there already, thank God.”

  “It’s just nine. We’ve got plenty of time.”

  Thankfully, we were only ten minutes outside the lot. I texted with Mary, Jayne, the artist, and my aunt on the ride over.

  “You’ve adapted to the phone.”

  I looked up. “Hmm?”

  “You practically took my head off about taking the phone.”

  “Oh.” I frowned down at my hands. A light tremor hit me as I clutched the phone tighter, then I shoved it in my pocket. “Yeah, I guess I slid right back into work mode.”

  “What did you do before the orchard?”

  I stilled. I’d grown so used to no one asking me about my past that I didn’t actually have an answer. Not an easy one. I opened my mouth to give my pat answer when he swore.

  I followed his gaze and saw the truck stuck on the dirt drive that led to the entrance of the lot.

  “I better help him.”

  “And get him out of the way.”

  He gave me a rueful smile. “That too. Sorry to make you hoof it up.”

  “No, that’s fine.” I grabbed my bag and mug. “I’ll find you later?”

  He nodded, already climbing out of the truck and waving to the man.

  I did a quick check of my bag before I hopped out, only to find Clay at my door. I let out a startled laugh.

  “What? Thought I’d let you go without saying goodbye?”

  “I…”

  And then he covered my mouth with his. The kiss was soft and lingering before he stepped back. “I’ll find you later.”

  I leaned on the door for a second to catch my breath. “Right.”

  He pulled his sunglasses out of his jacket and put them on.

  I couldn’t even fault him the cocky smile, damn him.

  Then my phone buzzed in my pocket and I was off and running toward the entrance. Because of course the milk steamer had to be acting up this morning. But then again, I was the only one who seemed to be able to finesse the beast to do my bidding.

  Once I started running, I didn’t seem to stop.

  I managed to teach Mel, my backup who I’d stolen from the café, how to get things rolling. Big Betty—what I called the machine—just needed a little love. And damn if she didn’t give good facials with that steam.

  People started trickling in at ten. If they put their name into the drawing in the first hour, they’d get double tickets. Every time I ran by the truck, I saw that the fish tank was getting more full. The first two hours, I didn’t have time to think.

  I set up the artist with her own table and a pile of trunk cuts to use to make the little hand-painted name sign ornaments we were offering as an add-on purchase. Ransom had the handy idea of cutting the trees on an angle to allow a little extra bark to show and to make the tree rings look more interesting. I was pretty sure Jayne enjoyed getting his deliveries through the day.

  By noon, we’d sold almost half the trees we’d cut. And well more than half of the Townes’ trees. My nerves started jangling each time I heard the bell when a hybrid was sold. It dragged my attention and also the crowd’s, bringing people to that side of the lot.

  With every passing minute, we were getting closer to being sold out and we were open for hours more. I pushed down the worry—selling out wasn’t exactly a bad thing. It got people excited. The scarcity mindset made people want things more and wanting more meant word of mouth.

  It was the perfect storm.

  Why my heart started racing, I didn’t know. I pushed down the worry and checked in with Jayne. I made her go take a break before her hand was permanently cramped.

  Then I went and gave Mel a break. The monotonous building of our signature hot cocoa made me a little more even. The steamed milk with a splash of vanilla in the chocolate, followed by the homemade whipped cream was worth the extra five bucks.

  Again, the word of mouth started to spread.

  More people wanted the signature CocoaBus drink than the regular. I watched my stash of whipped cream dwindle and then I was down to my last bottle of vanilla.

  Mel returned and even with her help, I couldn’t keep up with the line. My hands started to shake. What would we do if we didn’t have the vanilla? I could make more whipped cream, but I couldn’t pull the vanilla out of thin air.

  I made a mental note to order an extra case. I’d have to order more of everything.

  The bus seemed really hot all of a sudden. My breath clogged in my chest and the walls started closing in on me.

  Just steam the milk.

  Just pour it over the chocolate.

  One by one, I filled the orders.

  Focus on the next cup, not the people waiting.

  I looked up and saw the line snaking around. I couldn’t see the end of it. I swallowed down the panic and set out cups.

  I was running out of almond milk.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder, but I couldn’t make out the words being said. I just kept lining up the cups.

  Just keep going.

  “Rachel.” I blinked up at the voice.

  Clay? What was he doing in here?

  He pulled my fingers away from the cups and drew me toward the back of the bus. I couldn’t hear what he was saying to me, but I couldn’t leave now.

  There was a line.

  I tried to pull away and noticed the wide eyes of Mel and my aunt. Where had she come from?

  “We’ve got this.” Laverne cupped my face. “Go. Take a break.”

  Her voice sounded far away.

  Like that day in the city.

  Like that day in the kitchen.

  The day when I’d lost everything.

  Clay drew me back against his chest. He stroked down my ponytail.

  I elbowed him back. The oxygen seemed to be disappearing around me. I could hear myself breathing heavy, but I couldn’t stop it.

  No.

  Not again.

  I pushed him aside and hopped out of the bus, taking off into the trees. The branches slapped at me and the uneven ground had me taking a right then a left, then another right as I went deeper into the uncut trees.

  The trees that weren’t ready to be cut.

  Just like me, not ready.

  I’d done too much too fast. Now I was abandoning those that depended on me.

  Again.

  But I didn’t stop running.

  Chapter 21

  Clay

  Six Degrees of Manhattan

  Jesus. The look on her face.

  Her pupils had been so huge and filled with fear when she looked at me, then through me as if I wasn’t even there.

  I took off after her, my throat tight with concern. It was an alien emotion gripping at me. She was the most competent woman I’d ever known and to see her spiraling cut at me.

  She crashed through the trees as if a demon was chasing her, her gaze swinging in a panicked sweep across the endless crush of trees.

  I wasn’t sure if I should let her go and be alone, or if I should follow. Everything inside me said follow. I knew she’d hate for me to see her like this, but I’d worry about that later.