Truthfully, I can't wait until December is over, because if I have to make another batch of gingerbread cookies I might scream. I really am happy we keep selling out, but I would love nothing more than to have a break from the rich and spicy aromatic smell.

A break won't come until December thirty first.

I know Quinn is feeling the same way, she's mentioned more than once that the little guys are starting to haunt her dreams now.

She said if I wanted to understand, I need to watch Gingy’s story in Scared Shrekless.

It's not the same but pretty close, a gingerbread falls into a mixer, becoming cloned. Then they chase her, frosting faces smeared. The only difference is they get bigger and bigger, while she gets smaller and smaller.

Safe to say she's now traumatized, and will probably be spending time in therapy.

And as much as I would love to simply skip this month, I can't, because today Cage is taking us out to get a real Christmas tree. I know we are late decorating, most people put up their trees and string their lights up in November. It's kind of become a tradition in the Williams household the last two years to decorate for Christmas late.

I'm just so busy with things at the bakery. Most people throw more Christmas parties than they do any other kind, at least it seems that way in Rushmore.

I had three women come into Sugar Rush yesterday, all wanting desserts by a certain day for their parties. They planned to attend each other's parties, and came in to make sure they weren't going to be serving the same desserts. Two fights broke out, one woman was close to tears and I swear the other two were mentally plotting each other's murder. While I held firm to my friendly smile, was I thinking why don't they just plan a party all together?

Yes, yes I was.

Did I tell them that?

Nope.

I didn't want to provoke them, especially since I saw a hand clutching a pen twitch.

So now it's a week before Christmas, and I don't have a tree, or lights strung up outside, not even a simple little mat in front of the door that says Merry Christmas.

Even the bakery is lacking holiday cheer, it's slightly depressing playing Christmas music without any Christmas decorations.

Quinn has taken on the task of decorating the bakery, probably enlisting the help of Noah to hang lights above the awning, and around our sign.

While I will be working on fixing the depressing state of my home.

Cage has been getting kind of antsy the longer it takes us to put a tree up. I think it's less to do with the tree itself and more so the fact that this is his first Christmas with Knox and Kohl. He just wants it to be perfect, a fond memory we can all look back on, and think that was a great day. Though this year is already turning out to be different from all of the rest, besides Cage being here, we're getting a real, living tree this Christmas.

They're beautiful, and I always wanted one to get one, but I was skeptical. When Knox and Kohl were babies I was worried about them eating the needles. That worry then morphed into what if Knox and Kohl happened to be allergic to what tree I got? Then there was the possibility of bugs that might climb off and take up residence in my home. I know they probably spray them but it wasn't a chance I was willing to take.

Especially not with kids, if they had gotten bit by something that could send them into the hospital I would have lost my mind.

It's easier to take certain risks if you don't have someone else to be concerned about. I know I worry too much about things out of my control, I just want to do everything in my power to keep Knox and Kohl safe.

I try my best to focus on the things I can control.

Cage talked to me, explaining that the likelihood of anything like that happening was slim, and he will even ask the tree farmer to spray before we take the tree.

So I conceded, and now we're standing in the entryway of a tree farm, three mouths gaping at the sheer size of the place.

There are several empty spaces as far as the eye can see, leaving only short stumps to show for what once was. I'm surprised to see there's still quite a few trees left to choose from, ranging from all darker shades of green. Some have a bluish hue, while others have a yellowish one. Their needles are all different too, while similar at first glance, a closer look will show that some are flatter, or wider, and shorter than others.

I don't think I have ever taken the time to study the differences between trees before, and weirdly it's actually kind of fun. I reach out and touch the closest tree to me that caught my interest, brushing my thumb across a branch of needles.

It's softer than I imagined it would be.

“That one there is a Fraser Fir, see how the branches angle up with yellowish-green needles? The needles on it are also pretty unique, they're flatter than some of the other needles on the trees we have, with rounded and slightly notched apices.”

I turn to the voice that has just appeared next to me.

He's a tall  husky man, with arms that quite literally resemble tree trunks, that strain against his black and red checkered flannel button up. His salted midnight hair is slicked back, beard and mustache neatly trimmed, and green eyes that match the tree I still touch.

“My name's Bruce, though some jokingly call me Spruce.” A friendly smile appears on his face as he holds his hand out.

I take it, he's careful as squeezes my hand in a shake. Cage comes to my side and takes his hand next while Knox and Kohl come up to either side of us.

“Cage, this is Rory.” His hand flexes, and Bruce lips twitch, Cage's eyes fall to the boys'. “And these too are Knox and Kohl.”

Cage's arm slips around my waist, as the two separate, hand molding to my hip.

Bruce holds his hand out for the twins, shaking both of theirs too, shaking it like he's in slight pain after.

“Quite the grip you two got there! I think I felt my bones shifting, definitely gonna be stronger than your Dad someday. Now what kind of tree are you looking for? We got pretty much any kind of Christmas tree on our farm here.” He waved an arm out, proudly smiling.

“Something big!” Kohl shouts, raising his arm as high as he can.

“You do know that it has exactly fit inside the house, right?” Knox says, tone balancing a thin line of your being dumb, and I'm simply informing you.

“Yeah, I know.” Kohl's eyes roll.

“I'm sure we'll find you the perfect tree that fits in your house. Do you know how tall of a tree you're looking for?” Bruce looks to us for an answer that I don't have.

“About seven feet, Concolor Fir or maybe a Douglas Fir. Scotch Pine would be a nice option as well. That one is known for its needle retention right? We got two puppies at home, and need something that's sturdy, one of them likes to chew on stuff.” Cage names off a couple trees, taking me by surprise.

And clearly I'm not the only one, Bruce looks impressed.

“That's right we still have a couple of Scotch Pines if you want to have a look at those first.” He holds a thumb over his shoulder, pointing in the direction the trees must be in.

“Scotch Pines?” Knox inquires.

Bruce leads the way, walking backwards for a bit conveying information about Scotch Pines.

You can tell he really loves his job.

“The Pinus sylvestris or as we know it Scotch Pine, exact place of origin can't be determined. It's thought to have originated in central Asia, and then spread westwards to Europe through the Middle East and the Mediterranean region. Its history is complex and people still debate about its place of origin. I never cared for all of that, it's a beautiful tree, is that not all one needs to know? Here's something I thought was interesting: The tallest recorded Scotch pine tree is over two hundred and ten years old and stands at one hundred and fifty three feet in Estonia. Though that isn't the oldest Scotch Pine in the world that goes to Lapland, Northern Finland at seven hundred and sixty years old.”

“Really?” Knox asks, intrigued.

“Yep, pretty cool huh?” Bruce comes to a stop next to some trees. “Here we are, any catching your eyes, Young Man?”

Cage's hand falls from my waist as I walk away, reaching a hand out to touch the dark green  needles with a faint undertone of blue. They're about an inch or two long  and smooth, with a slight waxy coating. With the smell of pine hanging in the air I almost think I'm touching a pine scented candle. The needles are flattened, with a pointing tip, but are soft.

It's tall with a conical shape, and bushy, no obvious open gaps in sight.

I love it.

Kohl wildly darts around the trees, looking for the tallest one, but Knox comes to stand beside me, feeling the pine’s leaves.

“What do you think?” Cage asks, coming up behind us both.

“Is it normal to say you found the perfect tree even though you've only really looked at one?” I tip my head, smiling up at him.

Cage's eyes flicker to my lips, just like they have countless times since our date, eyes darkening with need. I'm sure my eyes are mirrors for his emotions, and it looks like it takes everything in him to not lean down and kiss me.

He blinks, and the look is gone.

For a brief moment I feel disappointed, then I remember we're not exactly alone, Bruce is here watching us.

And so are Knox and Kohl.

“I like this one too,” Knox says, releasing the needles. “Kohl, what do you think of this one?”

He comes skidding to a stop, nearly crashing into his brother.

“I like it, it's really tall.”

Well Kohl is easy to please, he just wants a tall tree, and I know Cage is happy with whatever we want.

“You found your tree?”

“Yes,” we all say.

Bruce leaves and quickly comes back wearing a hardhat and safety glasses, carrying a chainsaw to cut down the tree.

Cage grabs Knox and Kohl's shoulders to pull them back. “Stay back, alright? This part is very dangerous, I don't want either of you to get hurt.” They nod in obedience to their father's order.

With a glance to make sure we're out of the way, he pulls a cord several times, and then the chainsaw roars to life. He brings the chainsaw to the tree cutting at an angle but not all the way through the trunk on the side of the tree away from us. Then he draws back cutting a horizontal line into the tree.

A sharp crack sounds and Bruce rushes back and over to us, yelling to alert anyone else nearby.

“Timber!”

Knox and Kohl cheer when the tree falls with a thud.

Bruce saws off the end into a straight line and calls someone over to help bundle the tree up. They load it up into the back of Cage's truck, and then just like that we have our Christmas tree.

Now comes the fun part, getting it home, and setting up.

──── • 🧁 • ────

I hope you liked this chapter, and if you did, please hit that cute little star or leave a comment, maybe? 

Thank you! 💚