Chapter 48 Bram
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I trudged through the woods by the river with my ax in hand. What made for a perfect tree anyway?
I thought about Maeve, tried to imagine whether she’d like a big one or a small one, a skinny one or a full one.
It was cold but I was too busy worrying to feel it. Was this crazy? Stupid? Pathetic?
Once upon a time, pathetic would have been the worst possible outcome, but somehow I found that I didn’t care. I was willing to be pathetic for Maeve if it meant there was even the slightest possibility of making her happy.
I hadn’t thought about Christmas until she mentioned the decorations at the Mountaintop Inn.
Then I’d felt like a total dick, because of course Maeve would like Christmas decorations and there we were — Remy, Poe, and me — acting like it was just another month where nothing special was happening when Maeve was working her ass off to plan a Christmas dinner that would probably be the best thing I’d ever tasted.
I stopped in my search to pull a Snickers bar from my pocket, tore it open, and bit into it with relish. It was probably a pale substitute for the treats Maeve made, but it did the job, and I used the time to look at the trees all around me.
Maybe I should have brought Maeve with me. Was that something girls liked, hunting for a tree in the woods? Or was that one of those situations where they wanted a guy to do the hard thing so they could stay warm and have fun with the decorating?
It was all a mystery to me. I’d never thought much about what women wanted beyond delivering enough orgasms to send them away satisfied.
I’d ask Cassie. Not about the orgasms obviously. About the tree thing.
There were a few possibilities for trees nearby, but I wasn’t sure enough to start chopping, so I shoved the rest of the Snickers into my mouth and walked deeper into the forest. I’d crossed the small river in my thinking spot long ago but I heard the trickle of water from another stream hidden in the woods, and I breathed in the cold and the fresh scent of the pines.
It smelled nice, and the walk was almost… relaxing? Maybe this was how Poe felt when he meditated like a nude freak out on the balcony.
I came to the source of the water, one of Blackwell Preserve’s many creeks and smaller rivers. It tumbled over glistening river rocks and I stepped over it and continued deeper into the woods.
I could have bought a tree from one of the lots that dotted Blackwell and the surrounding areas, but Maeve deserved a real tree, one that hadn’t been grown on a tree assembly line or on some Christmas tree farm. She deserved a tree that was as wild and beautiful as her.
I’d never thought there would come a day when a kiss on the cheek would make me horny as fuck, but pressing my lips to Maeve’s velvety skin after our date had accomplished the impossible.
The temptation to drag my mouth to hers, to strip off her clothes and bury myself inside her, had been a sweet kind of torture I hadn’t wanted to end.
I’d replayed the night a hundred times in the week since our date, savoring every moment I’d gotten to look at her achingly beautiful face, savoring every brush of her hand against mine, every glimpse of flesh under her dress.
But the kiss was what kept me up at night, knowing she was right next door while I sweated and tossed in my bed, and sometimes, when I got desperate, beating off to the memory of my lips on her cheek.
I hadn’t looked at the camera feed. It seemed disrespectful now. I knew Maeve wouldn’t like it, and I suddenly cared a whole hell of a lot about what Maeve liked and didn’t like.
After almost four months of being something she definitely didn’t like, I was ready to change her mind.
I spotted a tree through a clearing up ahead and stopped, my breath fogging the air. Maybe this was one of those you’ll-know-it-when-you-see-it moments, because I knew right away it would be perfect.
I trudged toward it, my heart lifting as it came more fully into view.
So full it was almost overgrown, it wasn’t as symmetrical as some of the trees I’d passed on my way through the woods. Pine cones still hung from some of its branches, and when I tipped my head back to gauge its height, I was pretty sure I saw an old bird’s nest hidden in its upper branches.
It was wild, like Maeve.
I crouched to look at the trunk. Plenty of room to cut.
I checked my phone, then got started. I had other stops to make on my way home.