If Erik argued it further, David didn’t hear him from inside the barn. He was busy stacking bales when the tractor roared to life, and a minute later Erik was standing beside him, eyes wide as he looked at the bales in front of them.

  “You weren’t kidding,” he said, letting out a low whistle.

  “I don’t kid.” David grabbed the first bale, hefting it up onto the back of the trailer. “Let’s start with the edges. Bales go up to the side of the trailer, and we’ll make a wall all the way around. Leave a space here at the back so people can get on and off. After we have the walls up, we’ll break up bales to cover the floor of the trailer with hay, too.”

  Erik set to work, but to David’s dismay, kept up with the questions.

  “So you guys have a Santa out here? Is it one of you? Tell me it’s you. Make my day, David, and tell me that you dress up in a big stuffed belly and a white beard and coo over babies.”

  David gritted his teeth, throwing the next bale onto the trailer with more force than necessary.

  “We have a guy who’s done it since I was a kid.”

  “He must be ancient, then. Or maybe he’s really Kris Kringle, eh? The real Santa, coming out to Rochester Farms to take pictures with the kiddos.”

  “I’m not that old, Erik,” David said through his teeth. “He’s in his seventies. Bill Waugh.”

  Erik’s face lit up. “I know Bill! He was in the Kiwanis with my grandpa. I guess I do remember coming out here a few times when I was little to see him dressed up as Santa.”

  David stopped tossing bales long enough to scowl. “Don’t tell me you buy your trees at that lot by the library.”

  Erik flushed a bit, but David couldn’t tell if it was from embarrassment or exertion. The bales were about 100 pounds each, so it could feasibly be either. Even David was sweating, and that was with his so-called ridiculous muscles.

  “Uh, we had a plastic tree.”

  David dropped the bale on the trailer and put his hands on his hips. “What?”

  “My mom loved trees and didn’t like the thought of cutting one down just so we could have it in our living room for a month,” Erik said defensively. “Besides, getting the tree down from the attic and arguing with my mom about how to put it together since she lost the instructions before I was born was one of my favorite Christmas traditions.”

  David pressed his lips together, holding back his commentary. There were always a few customers—usually teenage girls with too much eye makeup and vibrantly hued hair—every year who loudly protested cutting down a tree but were there because their families overruled them. Their arguments were always the same, and they were always wrong. David could list twenty ways cutting down a live tree was better for the environment than using a fake Christmas tree, but he bit them back.

  “I know, I know. My mom isn’t the most logical environmentalist out there. But it was important to her. I love biology, but she was the reason I decided to become a teacher instead of going the research track. She taught kindergarten.”

  Erik sank into silence as they continued to stack the hay bales on the trailer, and David found himself in the awkward position of actually wanting to talk. It wasn’t something that happened to him often, but the sadness coming off Erik was practically palpable, and David couldn’t help but think he was somehow responsible for it. He’d known Erik’s mom, but it didn’t seem like the time to bring that up.

  “Do you still have the tree?” he asked instead.

  David cringed at the question the moment it came out of his mouth, wishing he could take it back. He found he actually liked the sound of Erik’s voice, though, and he definitely disliked the thought that Erik might be brooding. David was a champion brooder; he didn’t want any competition.

  “I do. It’s still up in the old house’s attic, actually. The tenant lets me store things up there since there isn’t room at Mrs. Johnson’s.”

  At David’s questioning look, Erik shrugged. “Ivy Trace is an expensive facility, and I’m a teacher, David. Mom has some insurance that covers part of it, but I make up the difference by renting out her house.”

  “So you’re living at Mrs. Johnson’s? Does she still have all those cats?”

  Erik laughed. “She does. But I have an apartment over the barn. She gives me a big break on the rent since I take care of all the maintenance on the house and mow the fields. Doug set me up there. I think she’d finished the place for him, but then he took a job out in Santa Fe. He said it makes him feel better to know that his grandma’s not out there all by herself.”

  The Johnson’s farm was Rochester Farms’ closest neighbor, but it was still about six miles away. They were about fifteen minutes out from the town itself, and David could understand why Doug wouldn’t want his grandmother out there all alone. He was also sure Mrs. Johnson would be beyond insulted to know her grandson thought she needed a keeper. She was fiercely independent.

  “Don’t tell her that,” David muttered.

  Erik looked up, and David was relieved to see he was smiling.

  “I wouldn’t dare,” he said. Erik looked past David’s shoulder off into the forested area. “I haven’t had a tree since I moved back, actually. Maybe I can find a small one here that’d fit in my apartment.”

  Mrs. Johnson had hired the Rochester siblings when they’d been in high school to clean out the space after her husband had died and she’d decided to renovate the barn apartment space, so David knew exactly how tiny a tree would have to be to fit inside the small apartment. He couldn’t imagine someone as fidgety and active as Erik being happy in the dark, enclosed space.

  “We don’t usually allow the small ones to be cut down,” David said, and he could have kicked himself when Erik’s smile dimmed. “I’m sure we could make an exception for you, though.”

  “Nah, it was a silly idea, anyway.”

  “Why don’t you go help Mel in the shop? We’re almost done here, and I need to check the tractor’s engine to make sure it’s running smoothly for the hay rides.”

  Erik frowned for a moment before nodding. “Are you sure? I’m pretty comfortable working on engines. I could take a look if you want to head back. Your mom was pretty clear about you being back up at the house at six for dinner.”

  “Just go, Erik.”

  “When will you be done?” Erik held his hands up defensively when David scowled. “I’m just asking because I know Mel will want to know.”

  David looked at his watch. “Probably in forty-five or so? I need to check on some of my plants, too, but I guess I can do that after dinner. Just head on up, Erik. I’ll get there when I get there.”

  Erik gave him another unreadable look and then shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

  David sighed. “Erik?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Would you like to join us for dinner? My mom always orders too much food, and you’ve got to be hungry after all the lifting we did today. That way you’d get a chance to see the parade.”

  Erik looked a bit shocked at David’s offer, and David fought the urge to take it back. He knew it went against his carefully cultivated jackass image, but for some reason David didn’t like the thought of Erik sitting down to a meal alone in his tiny apartment on Thanksgiving.

  “Uh, yeah, actually. If you’re sure it’s all right with your family, that would be awesome.”

  David couldn’t help but return Erik’s smile, though his was much less enthusiastic. Erik looked like someone had offered him the moon. David had assumed Erik spent holidays at friends’ houses. He was a few years younger, but they’d been close enough in age that David remembered Erik had always been surrounded by people in high school. Where were those friends now?

  “Hurry up, then. Mel’s probably dropped half of the inventory by now,” David said, making a shooing motion up toward the cedar-shingled cottage that served as the Rochester Farms Christmas shop.

  David hung his head and sighed when Erik was finally out of sight. His parents still technically owned Rochester Farms, but he and Mel had taken over most of the managerial and day-to-day duties. Or rather, Mel had taken over most of the managerial duties. David was not a people person and went out of his way to not be there for things like job interviews. He thought of Mel as the farm’s manager and himself as the one who did all of the grunt work she didn’t want to dirty her hands with. He’d never considered himself anyone’s boss, but Erik’s joking comment had hit home.

  David unfastened the radio he wore at his belt since cell phone signals were unreliable around the farm.

  “Mom, do you copy?”

  Static sounded for a moment before his mother responded. “What do you need, David?”

  “Erik didn’t have anywhere to go for dinner tonight, so I invited him to eat with us.”

  David knew the silence that met his statement didn’t have anything to do with poor reception. David hadn’t brought anyone home for a holiday since his disastrous breakup with his last boyfriend a few years earlier. He knew his mother’s mind was going to be working overtime at the news that he’d asked Erik to stay.

  “I can run out and get the order if we need to add to it,” David offered. He clenched his teeth and shook his head. He shouldn’t have said that. If he’d really been as nonchalant as he’d tried to sound about asking Erik to Thanksgiving, then he wouldn’t be offering to do her a favor. Damn.

  “Danny’s going to get it when he goes to pick up Chelsea. There are only six of us for dinner, so there’s no hassle in adding another. Though maybe I should order more egg rolls, knowing how you and your brother fight over them.”

  David slumped in relief. He knew he was still in for an uncomfortable conversation with his mother, but at least she wasn’t going to make him do it over an open walkie-talkie channel either of his siblings—or Erik, if he was with Mel—could overhear.

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Chapter Two

  DAVID STARED at the tender shoot in front of him, his hands steady as he carefully spliced it together with a graft from a more mature plant. He vaguely registered the sound of the hothouse door opening and closing, but he was too caught up in what he was doing to pay it much notice.

  It took another painstaking two minutes before he was finally satisfied. David carefully placed the pot on the worktable and sat back. He flipped the magnifying goggles he wore up onto the top of his head and turned around, startled a bit when he realized Erik had been the one to come in.

  “I thought Mel was picking up the new inventory.”

  The words were gruffer than he’d intended, but David couldn’t help it. He’d been very careful to stay away from Erik since Thanksgiving, which was getting increasingly difficult as his mother and sister caught on and scheduled the two of them together more often. So far David had been able to trade his shifts with his brother, but apparently his luck had run out.

  “Yeah, she kind of set me up,” Erik said. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry if I did something to offend you. We have to work together, and I don’t want things to be awkward.”

  David took his goggles off and tossed them on the cluttered table. He felt silly having a conversation with Erik with them on, especially since it was a conversation he’d been avoiding for two weeks.

  “You didn’t do anything to offend me. I’ve just been busy down here.”

  Erik looked around the hothouse, which was crowded with plants in all stages of growth. The winter had gotten off to a cooler than usual start, so David had been forced to use his hothouse to shelter the plants that weren’t ready for the shop yet instead of using the greenhouses like he usually did.

  “Technically, Mel sent me down here to see if I could help. It’s slow up at the shop today, and she said you were in the weeds, so to speak. I just came on shift a few minutes ago.”

  David rolled his eyes at the poor garden humor, but Erik just grinned back, not repentant in the slightest.

  “Those poinsettias need to be repotted before they’re ready to go up to the shop, and I’m treating those cyclamen in the corner for a root fungus.”

  Erik surveyed the cluttered space again and then nodded like he was giving himself some sort of internal pep talk—it wouldn’t surprise David in the slightest if that was exactly what Erik was doing—before taking an apron off the peg by the door and tying it around his waist. He pulled on a pair of gloves from the bucket on the table and squared his shoulders.

  “Where are the pots?”

  David pointed Erik toward a pile of gaudy red and green plastic pots. He hated pandering to the public and selling chrysanthemums and poinsettias, but that was a hazard of the trade. Just like all of the marigolds and pansies he’d sell in the spring. Few people were interested in the less popular plant breeds David loved to work with.

  “Are you done grafting for the day?”

  Erik was already elbow-deep in potting soil, but he didn’t look like he minded the job. David usually did most of the repotting himself, since the part-timers were rarely gentle enough with the delicate root systems, but Erik was doing a fine job of it.

  “I want to get the roots treated on the cyclamen before the fungus does any real damage.”

  “Should they be quarantined?”

  David shook his head as he measured out the fungicide. “There isn’t anything else in here it could really hurt.”

  They worked in quiet for another ten minutes or so, but David could practically feel how antsy Erik was getting.

  “Don’t you have a radio or something?”

  David looked down at the plant he was working on, hiding his grin. Erik had made it longer than he’d thought he would.

  “I like the quiet. It helps me concentrate.”

  Maybe it was the byproduct of growing up with two very noisy siblings, but David loved silence. He liked the way it settled comfortably around him.

  “It creeps me out a bit, being so far out here in the middle of nowhere with no noise,” Erik said.

  David looked out the window, frowning when he realized the sun was well on its way to setting. They’d worked their way through almost all of the backlog.

  “You can head on back up to the shop, if you want. I can finish the last few.”

  “I didn’t notice an ATV out there. Did you walk over?”

  David nodded. He only took one of the ATVs when it was really snowy or he had a load of plants to take. Otherwise, he preferred to walk.

  “I can give you a ride back if you’re ready now. Mel asked me to remind you that you said you’d close for her.”

  David and Danny usually drew straws to see who had to man the Christmas shop when Mel couldn’t, but today it fell squarely on his shoulders. Danny was in the midst of finals week and holed up somewhere on campus studying.

  He looked at Erik, wondering if Mel would actually kill him or just threaten to if he abandoned Erik to run the shop himself. It wasn’t complicated, but it was important to his parents that customers see a Rochester out front, since it was a family farm. The world wouldn’t end if Erik was left alone to ring up sales and help customers bag their trees, but David knew it would be an uncomfortable place for him for quite a while if he shirked his duty. Mel had a long memory and a talent for vengeance, so bailing on spending two hours at the shop with Erik now meant facing the possibility of spending a lot more time alone with him in the future for whatever reason Mel could contrive.

  Better to deal with it now than postpone it, David decided. He didn’t relish the thought of spending five minutes wrapped around Erik on the small ATV, but he also knew Mel would kill him if he was late.

  “Sure. Load up the trailer and I’ll finish up here and join you out there.”

  David tried to sound nonchalant, but he knew he’d failed when Erik quirked an eyebrow at him. Apparently he’d let the conversation lag a bit too long as he dithered over whether to accept the ride.

  “I’ll let you drive if you’re that worried I’ll dump you on your ass,” Erik said with a teasing smile.

  “It’s not my ass I’m worried about,” David muttered, waving Erik’s curious look off when he tried to get David to repeat it. “Go load up the trailer.”

  David waited until Erik was busy hauling poinsettia pots before he pulled out his cell phone and tugged off the gloves he was wearing. Texts were more reliable than voice calls, and even if it didn’t get through till later, Mel would understand.

  I hate you.

  Mel responded to the text almost immediately, which furthered his suspicion she’d sent Erik in particular out to the hothouse for a reason. They usually stowed their phones while they were working since reception was so bad.

  You love me. And Erik.

  David scowled at his phone.

  “Ready?”

  David jumped, shoving his phone into his pocket. He felt like he was sixteen again, hiding his crush on the captain of his baseball team.

  Instead of responding, David checked to make sure all of the grafted plants were settled and then stalked out the door. As expected, Erik followed, though not without muttered commentary about David’s poor social skills. David couldn’t help but smile a bit at that, which was contrary to the impression he was trying to leave. He allowed the indulgence, though, since his back was to Erik, hiding his expression.

  By the time he’d locked up the hothouse and climbed onto the ATV behind Erik, David’s customary scowl was firmly back in place.

  “Helmet, dude.”

  David usually didn’t wear one when he was hauling a trailer on the ATV, since that wasn’t something that happened with any great speed, but from the look on Erik’s face, he wasn’t going to get away with that now. David grudgingly accepted the helmet Erik thrust into his hands. It was probably a good idea, he figured, since he wasn’t the one driving. David had been driving ATVs, tractors, and trucks over the farm from a young age, but he had no idea how responsible a driver Erik was.

  “Yeah, that’s how you roll when you roll with Erik.” Erik gave David an approving nod when he reluctantly put it on, ignoring David’s exaggerated grimace.

 

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