Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80969 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
He called Buddy a dog. Definite upgrade from mutt.
I follow River in and put the box and stand down on the floor. I kneel on the floor, and Buddy climbs into my lap and starts licking my face.
“Yes, he does … don’t you, you handsome boy?” I scratch Buddy behind his ears, the way I know he likes it.
River leans the tree against the wall and watches me with Buddy. He shakes his head.
“What?”
“Odd as fuck,” he says.
“Grumpy as the Grinch,” I tell him.
His eyes flash with humor.
I really do enjoy trading barbs with him. I have no idea what that says about our relationship. Not that we have a relationship. I’m not actually sure what we are, to be honest.
Then, I remember what I was saying about Macy. “Oh, so, yeah, as I was saying.” I put Buddy to the floor and get to my feet. “Macy … I didn’t mean she likes your personality. I meant that she likes this.” I wave my hand up and down, gesturing to his body and face.
“Wow, Red. An insult and compliment in one. I’m impressed. And you do realize this tree is way too fucking big for this living room.”
I stop and look at it leaning up against my wall. The top is bent over against the ceiling. Hmm … it looks quite big now that it’s in here. I might’ve gotten a bit carried away when I was buying it. Maybe overestimated the height of the ceiling.
“Yeah.” I sigh. “But it’s only for a few weeks.”
“Sure, a few weeks of not being able to sit in your living room because your big-ass Christmas tree has taken it over.”
“Don’t be dramatic. I can trim the top down, so it doesn’t bend over against the ceiling.”
He huffs out a laugh. “The top isn’t your problem, Red. The problem will happen when I cut the rope off this tree, and it spreads right out and over your living room.”
Oh. “Really?”
“Yes. Really.”
I look at the tree, all packed into the rope and net covering it.
I think he’s right.
“Fudge,” I murmur.
“I think you mean, fuck.”
“No, I definitely meant fudge.” I press my finger to my lips, thinking. I come up with nothing. “What do you think I should do?”
“How the fuck should I know?”
“But you’ve had Christmas trees before.”
He pauses and looks at me. “How come you’ve never had a tree before, if you’re as into Christmas as you say you are?”
Ah.
“Well … I never said I haven’t had one. I just”—I bite my lip—“never had any involvement in buying one or putting one up before.”
He stares at me for a long moment. I entwine my fingers together in front of me.
“Trim it. Or toss it.”
“I’m not tossing it out!” I say, aghast.
“Looks like you’re trimming it then.”
“Yeah.” I sigh.
“You want me to cut the rope off for you?” he asks. “See what you’re working with.”
“Probably best. If I do, I might get buried beneath it.”
He looks at me and then at the tree. “True. Pass me the stand.”
I hand it over to him and watch as he fits the base of the tree into the stand, securing it. Then, he pushes the coffee table, so it’s up against the sofa, trapping Buddy, who’s on the sofa at the moment.
I go over and pick Buddy up, holding him in my arms, getting him out of the way.
River pulls a Swiss Army knife out of the pocket of his jeans. Flicks the knife out and starts to cut the rope on the tree.
I back up as the branches start falling free because … holy fudge knuckles. It’s massive. It spreads out, covering half the sofa and coffee table. It’s hanging over the television. Basically, it takes up half of the room.
Well … hells bells.
“Well … it’s …” I helplessly gesture to it.
“The words you’re looking for are fucking ridiculous. Actually, it reminds me of you.”
“Ridiculous?” I frown.
“Pushy and invasive.” He gives me a look.
Still frowning, I hug Buddy to my chest. “I’m not pushy and invasive.” I’m the least nosy person I know.
“Macy likes you.” He imitates my voice, once again badly.
“You do realize I sound nothing like that?”
“Whiny and annoying?”
“Yes.”
“You keep telling yourself that, Red.”
“Jerk. And I was merely pointing out that Macy likes you. You know, just trying to be nice. You should try it sometime.”
“News flash: I’m not nice. And I don’t want to be nice. Some people like being assholes. I’m one of those people.”
“The man doth protest too much, methinks.” I tap my chin with my index finger. “You’re nice, River. Deal with it.”
He folds his knife up and puts it back in his pocket. “Okay, explain how I’m nice.”
I falter a little. “Well … you’re nice to me on occasion.”
“No. I tolerate you on occasion.”
I laugh at that. “You took me to get a tree. That was nice.”