Total pages in book: 45
Estimated words: 43870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
“It’s too much, Tanner. I can’t move in here.”
He huffed irritably. “You can, and I just explained why. Obviously, you’re free to freeze at the creek. Your call.”
I scrubbed my jaw. “Just like that?”
“Yep.” Tanner snapped his fingers and winced. “Actually, no. There’s a catch.”
“Ahh.” I crossed my arms. “What is it?”
“This cottage is part of the Christmas Light Show. You’d have to decorate it.”
“What?”
“You heard me. The lights are in a storage shed, neatly marked and ready to go. You just have to string them on the house and, uh…there might be an inflatable Santa or two for the lawn. Those are easy enough.” Another snap. “And in the spirit of the season, you gotta put a tree in the front window. More decorations, more lights, lots of festive cheer. What do you think?”
I massaged my nape, replaying his speech in my head. Was he fucking serious? This house was really nice. It wasn’t large by any means, but Phee would have her own room. Not a makeshift dining area turned into a kids’ space—a real room. And proximity had been a big issue for me right from the start. I could walk to work, drive five minutes to pre-K, and just ten minutes twice a week for my job at the vet’s office in Santa Ynez.
The Christmas part might be a pain in the ass, but Phee would love it. The lights, the tree…
“She’s never had a real tree,” I commented offhandedly.
Tanner tilted his chin. “No?”
“We’ve lived in tiny apartments and mobile homes. We have one of those fake ones you can put on a table in a box somewhere. Not the same.”
“This would definitely be different. More…holiday-ish.” He draped his arms on my shoulders and flashed a slightly naughty smile. “I know I’m laying this on thick. I should probably get off your case and tell you to do what’s right for you. And I will, but…I like you. I’d love to spend more time with you. So…as an incentive, I’ll even offer to help you decorate.”
I hooked my thumbs through Tanner’s belt loops and tugged him closer, brushing our noses and dipping to hover my lips over his.
“You’re a sneaky little fucker, Mr. Spade. I want to say no on principle.”
“But you won’t.”
“No, I won’t.” I sighed…in my most faux put-upon manner. “I’ll ask Phee what she thinks and get back to you. If that’s all right, of course.”
“Of course.” He beamed at me. “Something tells me she’s gonna say yes.”
I snort-laughed. “You could be right.”
We went our separate ways at the bottom of the pathway. Tanner hurried off to go to his meeting and me…? I stared at the cottage. White roses bloomed in winter in California and though the lavender had lost its purple luster, it was still pretty. I could imagine it at night, lit with colorful lights.
Phee loved Christmas lights. Hell, she loved all things Christmas.
I’d taken her to see the fancy trees in the cities we’d called home. We’d passed through San Francisco in December last year, and I’d never forget her wonder and joy as she’d gazed up at the tree in Union Square. I wanted to tell her there were bigger, better trees out there, but it was nice to see beauty through her eyes and remember that bigger or better didn’t always matter.
My daughter would jump at the chance to live on the ranch through the holidays. To her, it would feel like six-plus weeks of Christmas. What could be sweeter for an animal-loving kid than to see horses in your front yard and visit the goats, pigs, and cows down the road every day?
And I’d have Tanner.
Not forever, but I’d take November and December. Damn right I would.
CHAPTER 10
TANNER
Partner meetings didn’t happen very often—once per quarter on average. I liked to think Oak Ridge Ranch ran smoothly because we didn’t waste time with bureaucratic BS.
It didn’t make sense for me to get in Santiago’s dish about the winery or ask Mills a thousand questions about future bookings for luxury vacation packages. And even though Waylen was in charge of the business aspects of the dairy farm, he didn’t really know about the daily goings-on with the herd. Jax was the one who interfaced with all the departments, and he reported anything of particular note to me.
But we could never seem to escape a mid-November powwow, or what we all referred to as the end-of-year roundup.
The main points of the hour-long discussion: The grape harvest had gone well and with any luck, our 2029 Pinot could be something special. On the vacation getaway front, we were booked solid all through next year. Mills wondered about adding a full-time horse trainer dedicated to our guests.
“We have a full calendar and horseback riding every day. Cliff is part-time, and it’s not enough,” Mills reported. “If I hire from out of the area, it would be nice if I could sweeten the deal and offer a new hire one of the cottages. Number eleven has been vacant for a while, and—”