The sun peeked through the trees, the roads were clear of snow and ice, and the temperature hovered just above freezing as they ventured into town to deliver the table Seth had built for his sister. He might as well have Ruby meet her, he thought, before introducing her as his fiancée to his mother.
He hummed along with the radio for the first time in a long while. Hanging Christmas lights and eating breakfast with Ruby had made him realize he’d been missing life. He’d been content the last year alone in his workshop, creating a few custom furniture pieces and dabbling with his own designs. But he hadn’t recognized he’d missed the companionship of another person until Ruby showed up with her twenty questions.
“Where are we going?” Ruby asked, breaking him from his inner musings.
“My sister owns an interior design studio in town. The table is her centerpiece. She’ll use it to display items for her clients and at the same time, help me market my work.” He slowed the truck, squinted, put his visor down, and turned onto the main road. “Many of her clients are remodeling or building new and have the money to spend on custom pieces. One of her regulars ordered a walnut and white oak foyer table after seeing the coffee table I built for Bree’s seating area. My next project.”
“What else have you done to market yourself?”
“Nothing much. Word of mouth mostly.” His full, sensual lips twitched.
“You don’t have a website or social media presence?” Ruby adjusted the face vent to blow more heat toward her. The fan brought with it the smell of Seth’s clean, citrusy aftershave mixed with pine and leather, making it difficult for her to concentrate on their conversation.
“No. Nothing really. I started designing a website, but I gave up. I intend to hire someone, but I haven’t gotten around to it. Are you warm enough?” he asked. “Feel free to adjust the temperature.”
“I’m good. Thanks. I can help you with marketing. It’s what I do, market other people’s work, get it ready for production, strategize the best places to advertise, and analyze who best to market to.”
Seth glanced at her, was about to say something, then focused his attention back on the road. Weird. Maybe she’d overstepped.
After a few beats of awkward silence, he said, “We’ll deliver the table and then head to Armstrong Christmas Tree Farm. Have you been?”
“Never. They’ve only been open for a few years, right?”
Seth nodded. “Yes. The owner, Max, is a good friend of mine. He’s the one who encouraged me to flee the city.”
Ruby sat up straighter and peered through the windshield as they pulled to the curb in front of Bree Woods Designs. “I don’t remember this block ever having shops on it.”
“It’s part of the revitalization project.” He shut off the engine and turned to her. “I haven’t talked to my sister, so I’m guessing your presence may be a shock.”
“I guess news doesn’t travel as fast in a small town as I thought.”
“I think it all depends on who is spreading the gossip.”
“Good point,” she said, chuckling.
The white-painted brick building with large windows and black awnings spoke of sophistication. It sat next to a small storefront whose sign read “Steamin’ Mugs.”
“How convenient, being next to a coffee shop. That is, if she likes coffee. I have a friend who loves the smell but hates the taste.” Ruby was babbling, nervous about meeting Seth’s sister.
“I think it was a deciding factor when my sister leased the place.” He laughed. “She loves coffee and is a snob when it comes to what she brews. Not just at home, but in the shop too.”
As soon as they stepped out of the truck, Seth’s sister, who Ruby recognized from the picture on his mantel, strolled outside. She wore knee-high boots, a checkered skirt, and a black sweater. Bree clapped her hands together. “Yay! I’m so excited to see your newest creation. Do you need help?”
“No, I can manage,” Seth said. “Just hold the door.”
He slid the table forward and lowered it onto the two-wheeler hand truck while Ruby shut the tailgate and followed the siblings into the studio.
She inhaled the scent of mulling spices, a blend of cinnamon, oranges, and vanilla. A sizable antique crystal chandelier hung from the open ceiling. Colorful fabric swatches were displayed on one wall, and drawers and a bookcase lined another. A welcoming sitting area sat opposite the small front counter.
“Are you going to introduce me to your friend, Seth?” Bree asked.
Seth placed a hand on the small of Ruby’s back. “Yes. Bree, this is my fiancée, Ruby.”
Bree’s mouth hung open. “Excuse me?”
Seth smiled at the shock on Bree’s face.
Bree collected herself, cocked her head, and stuck out her hand to Ruby. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even know my brother was dating.”
Ruby grasped Bree’s hand. “It’s recent.” She looked at Seth to see if he’d fill in the blanks for his sister. He didn’t.
He made quick work of assembling the table, glancing up frequently to smile at Ruby. Obviously to see how long his sister would last before making him come clean. An only child, Ruby could only imagine what it would feel like to have a brother spring his fiancée on her. She’d be shocked, and probably a little upset if they had a close relationship. She would have demanded answers immediately. Impressed that Bree had taken it in stride, she didn’t doubt for a minute there would be hell to pay.
Bree clapped her hands. “The table is perfect,” she said. “Just how I pictured it.”
“I wasn’t sure about the farmhouse look,” Seth said. “The walnut top and the white-painted legs with wheels. But seeing it in place, it’s perfect for your space. I’m glad you’re happy.” He tucked his hands in his pockets. “Okay, well, we should go. We have a tree to cut down.” He smirked.
Hands on hips, Bree said, “Not so fast! Spill.”
Seth looked at Ruby, and she nodded. What did she care if he told his sister it was a fake engagement?
“All right, here’s the deal,” Seth said, and stepped closer to his sister to relate the scene that had unfolded in his workshop days before.
Bree shook her head. “Wow. Dad continues to surprise me with his total disregard for his family.”
Seth slipped a hand around her shoulder and pulled her close. Bree rested her head on her brother’s shoulder. She opened her mouth to say more, but the bell above the front door jingled, ending any further conversation. “I’ll go along with your ruse—but promise me you’ll tell Mom the truth,” Bree whispered.
“That’s the plan. We’re staying with her before the gala. I’ll fill her in.”
“Good. Welcome to the family, Ruby,” Bree said with a wink, and strode toward her customer.
* * *
When Ruby and Seth pulled into the parking lot of the tree farm, Ruby noticed two signs. The first one read “Cut your own,” with an arrow pointing down a trail, and the other, “Precut trees,” with an arrow pointing toward a huge white pole building with a large sign advertising Armstrong Tree Farm. The strains of “Frosty the Snowman” drifted through the external speakers, decorations in the form of wreaths hung from the structure’s walls, and cutouts of Santa, Mrs. Claus, and gnomes wearing Santa hats were set up for photo ops.
Ruby hopped out of the truck and inhaled the delicious smells of sugar, cinnamon, and woodsmoke. She hummed to the catchy melody. “This place is amazing.” She glanced around and spotted a man stirring corn in a huge kettle with a long wooden spatula.
Seth leaned in close and said, “Kettle corn. My favorite.” His warm breath caused shivers down her back.
“We definitely need some of that,” she said.
“I never pass up kettle corn. We’ll grab some on our way out. But right now, let’s cut you down a tree.”
He pulled a saw from the bed of his truck. “Follow me.” They took off toward the trail. At the trailhead, a vintage Airstream that had been converted into a food truck sold coffee and hot chocolate and the makings for smores and hot dogs to roast over the large bonfire. “Do you have a favorite type of tree? A spruce or fir? Max has seven different varieties, so we should find one you like.”
“I’m partial to the Fraser or balsam fir, but I’ll know the perfect tree when I see it,” Ruby said as they strolled amongst the evergreen pines. Snowflakes had blanketed the branches overnight, making the tree lot look like something out of a winter fantasy.
Seth enjoyed seeing Ruby’s eyes light with wonder. “Do you see anything you like?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” She held his gaze.
He leaned forward and smiled. “So, you’ve picked out a tree, then?”
“I have. That one.” She pointed and walked toward the dark green tree and brushed her hand across the short needles. A sprinkling of snowflakes drifted to the ground. She breathed in a strong evergreen scent.
“That’s the one, huh?” he asked.
“Yep. It’s a perfect shape. My angel will sit proudly on top, and there’s enough space between the branches to layer my ornaments. Plus, it smells heavenly.”
Seth chuckled. “All good reasons.”
She smiled and held out her mittened hand for the saw. “Sit back. I’ve got this. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
He handed over the saw, never taking his eyes off her.
“Sit over on that log and watch the pro work,” she said.
He sat down, and Ruby knelt to clear the snow from around the tree.
“Are you sure you don’t need any help, city girl?” he asked.
“Nope. I’ve got it. I need to notch it. I wouldn’t want it to fall on you.”
He studied Ruby as she cut through the small trunk. He rubbed his hand back and forth over his knee to stifle his adolescent urges. She straightened and watched the tree fall, then turned to him. “This is where you come in,” she said with a grin.
Seth grabbed hold of the trunk. “Lead the way, O Mighty One.”
Ruby giggled, and he followed her out of the woods. At that moment, he knew he’d follow her anywhere. Fake fiancée or not, he’d make sure she knew how he felt about her. By the way she flirted with him, he suspected she liked him too.
After Seth secured the tree in his truck, he walked into the barn and quickly spotted Ruby at the far end. The smell of warm apple cider filled the air, and strings of white icicle lights hung from the ceiling. There were live wreaths, artificial ones of all sizes, signs, stockings, ornaments, and other crafts arranged around the space. People were scattered throughout the aisles.
“Did you find something?” he asked.
Ruby peered at a potted Christmas cactus. “Do you think this would make a good hostess gift for your mom?”
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” he answered. “She loves plants.”
“Fantastic!” She cast her eyes on the cookie tin printed with a copy of Terry Redlin’s painting Heading Home. “I have this one; it’s one of my favorites. I love the cozy detail of the couple beneath the blanket, the branches of a pine tree peeking out from behind the horse-drawn sleigh, and the loyal canine companion trailing them.”
“I like it too, it’s quintessential winter romance,” Seth said, nodding. He gestured to the cactus. “Let me take that while you keep shopping.”
“Thanks,” she replied, selecting the tin. “I’ll put some of Grandma Lynn’s biscotti inside for your mom.”
“That’s perfect,” he said.
A man about their age, shorter than Seth’s six-foot frame, with mussed black hair and a five-o’clock shadow and wearing an insulated buffalo plaid shirt, jeans, and work boots, held out his hand. “Seth. I thought that was you.”
“Max. Merry Christmas! I wondered if I’d see you. Busy place.”
“Our guests seem to enjoy themselves.”
“Max, this is Ruby. Ruby, Max Armstrong, the owner of this farm. Max is an old friend from high school in Sturgeon Bay. We used to get together all the time, but we’ve both been busy.”
After they exchanged pleasantries and before Max departed to help other shoppers, Ruby invited him to join them for a game night. “My grandma’s place is next door to Seth’s. Feel free to bring a plus one. I plan on asking Seth’s sister, Bree, to join us too. I’m making dinner.”
“Sounds great. I could use a night away, thank you and it’ll just be me.”
“I’ll text you later with the time,” Seth said.
“Sounds good. I’ve got to run. Enjoy your day on the farm.” Max lifted his chin in acknowledgement to an older gentleman and walked away.
“He seems like a nice guy,” Ruby said.
“He is. Thanks for inviting him tomorrow night, but I didn’t know we had a game night planned.” One corner of his mouth lifted.
“Yeah, about that. Sorry. I guess you’re not the only one who’s impulsive.”
“Hey, I’m game.”
Ruby bumped shoulders with him and chuckled. They stepped up to the cash counter to pay for her items.
Ruby paid the cashier. “Thank you.” She gathered up the bag and turned to Seth. “Do you think your sister will join us too?”
“She might. I’ll text her later. Now, let’s go enjoy the rest of this place.”
They tucked their purchases into the back seat of the truck. “Let’s get our picture taken.” Seth pointed toward the life-sized cutouts. He asked a woman nearby if she’d mind taking their photo. He stuck his head through Santa, and Ruby through Mrs. Claus.
They turned and gazed at each other. When Seth smiled wide, Ruby felt like she might spontaneously combust. She stepped out from behind the cutout and unzipped her jacket.
“What a cute couple you make,” the woman said, and handed Seth’s phone back.
“Oh, we’re—” Ruby started to correct the woman, but Seth interrupted.
“Thank you.”
Before leaving, they spent some time warming themselves near the bonfire, drinking hot cocoa and making a s’more. Ruby bit into the gooey, chocolaty treat and licked her lips. “Dessert first. Perfect.”
The tiniest of smiles tilted his lips. “You’re perfect.”
Ruby nearly melted in place.