Chapter 3
PETE
Late November . . .
“Right.” Sadie stands and brushes a strand of hair off her face. “I reckon we call it a day.” She has her hands on her hips, gaze taking in our Christmas tree farm that we’re currently in the middle of.
Trees of various heights and varieties surround us, and the sight never fails to make me smile. We plant new trees for every one that gets cut down. From the bushy Nordmann Firs, Frasier Firs, and the traditional Norwegian Spruce, among others.
Of course, we have pre-cut ones too, but in my opinion, there’s nothing like wandering through here and choosing your own. Thankfully, not everyone thinks like that, though, or we’d struggle to meet demands.
“Pete?” she prompts, snapping her fingers in front of my face.
“Sorry, zoned out for a minute.”
“No shit.” She walks over to stand in front of me. “Want to come home with me? Tim’s got a pork joint in the slow cooker. Plenty to go around.”
Jesus.
“Just because I live on my own, doesn’t mean I’m lonely all the time, you know.”
She rolls her eyes. “I never said it did. Can’t I invite my brother over for food now?”
“Sadie.” I place both hands on her shoulders. “I love you. You are the best sister a guy could ask for . . .”
She scowls. “I’m sensing a but here.”
I grin. “But . . . we’ve just spent the last seven hours in each other’s pockets. I suspect both of us need a little space.”
“Hmm.”
I pull her into a hug and she wraps her arms around me. “Honestly, sis, I’m fine on my own.”
“I know you are. But I don’t like the idea of you rattling around in that house on your own. Especially this time of year.”
Her words hit their mark, even though she didn’t intend them to, and I swallow down the pang of longing.
Would it be nice to have someone waiting for me at home?
Yeah, of course. But I’ve tried looking farther afield these past few months and it just hasn’t worked out.
If I’m honest, I need a break from trying—and failing—to find someone. “Maybe I should get a dog instead.”
She laughs and slaps my shoulder. “As well. Not instead.” When she pulls back to face me, she’s got a determined look in her eyes that never ends well for me. “There’s someone out there for you, Pete. You just need to find them.”
“Oh, is that all I need to do?” I dodge out of range before she can pinch me.
“I know it’s not as easy as that.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” She links her arm through mine and steers us towards the car park. “I don’t want you to give up looking, that’s all.”
“I haven’t. I promise,” I add when she raises an eyebrow. Her expression tells me she’s not convinced. With a sigh, I share more than I usually would. “I’m tired, Sadie.” I scrub a hand over my face, the words truer than I’d like. “I’m thirty-six years old.”
“I’m two years older than you, so choose your next words carefully.”
That makes me smile. “You’ve been with Tim for four years.” I shrug. “Sometimes I feel like maybe finding someone isn’t the problem.” The next breath I let out is a little shaky as I admit something that’s been playing on my mind a lot recently. “Maybe I’m the problem.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I shrug again, uncomfortable. But Sadie and I are close. Always have been. If there’s anyone I can talk to about this, it’s her. “I’ve met people over the years. But none of them stick around. There’s got to be a reason for that.”
“There is. They were all arseholes.” There’s no room for argument in her tone, and it makes me pull her in for another hug. Her head fits under my chin and I kiss the top of it.
“You have to say that because you’re my sister.”
“It’s also true.”
“No, it’s not.” Some were, granted, but not all of them. “Whether it’s the fact I live out in the sticks, that I’m not interested in moving, or that I run a Christmas tree farm and garden centre—”
“Jointly run,” she interrupts, poking me in the ribs. “You don’t do it on your own, dick.”
“Sorry. Jointly run. But you know what I mean. It’s not exactly a glamorous job, and while we’re comfortable for money, we’re never going to be rich.”
She pulls out of my arms and pokes her finger against my chest this time.
“You listen to me, Pete Harbrook. You work hard. You own your own house.” She underlines each point with a jab of her finger.
“You’re one of the nicest people I know.
Generous to a fault and always willing to help people. You’re a catch!”
I can’t help but laugh, hoping she can’t hear the edge of bitterness to it.
“And boring as fuck by the sounds of it.” I start walking again, needing this conversation to be done with now.
“Men don’t want boring, Sadie. I don’t go on fancy holidays or spend money on clothes or nights out.
” I hold my hands out wide. “I think I have to accept that I’m not that much of a catch after all.
” And I need to be ok with it, because I don’t see any of that changing.
I like my life.
I love my home, and most days I love my job.
As we reach our cars, Sadie fishes out her keys, then pauses. “I get what you’re saying, even though I don’t agree. But you could’ve easily been describing Sean there, and look at him and Vic now.”
“They had a past, though. They weren’t strangers.”
She rolls her eyes. “Years ago.” She unlocks her car and opens the door. “Maybe you’ve already met your Mr Right. You just need him to come back into your life for your second chance.”
“Right. And you’ve been reading too many romance books. Real life doesn’t work like that.”
“Sometimes it does.” Her phone chimes with a text and she glances at the screen. “Dinner’s ready. I need to get going.”
“Night, then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night.” She gets in her car, lowering the window as she starts the engine. “Have a little faith, Pete. Karma doesn’t forget, and I’m convinced she’s got something good in store for you.”
I watch her drive off before heading to my own car, her words lingering in my head.
Am I due some good karma?
I’d like to think so, but not gonna hold my breath.
However, our conversation has rekindled the hope that maybe this is the year I won’t wake up alone on Christmas morning. Or when the clock hits midnight on New Year’s Eve, I won’t be outside in the cold.
I laugh and shake my head as I get in my car.
Come on, Pete. Considering we’re almost in December, I think it’s pretty fucking unlikely any of that will actually happen.
That doesn’t mean I don’t imagine the fuck out of it all the way back to my cottage.
I’m feeling a mix of horny and lonely after dinner—not the best combination—but nothing on the TV holds my attention, and I reach for my phone.
Hook-up apps don’t hold all that much appeal these days.
Not that I haven’t used them before, but that’s usually when I’ve been staying somewhere with a bigger population than Charnwell.
Pretty sure I know nearly every guy around here who’s gay, bi, or pan, and we’ve either been there, done that, or it’s never going to happen. The Hope Valley gets its fair share of visitors, even in winter, but very rarely are any of them hot single guys looking to hook up.
Not for the first time, my mind wanders back to last New Year’s Eve and the hot singleish guy I met outside the pub. Granted, he’d only just broken up with his boyfriend, so definitely not looking for anything more than a friendly chat, but still. It’d been nice.
Eleven months have probably warped my memory of what he looked like but not the way our short encounter made me feel.
Alive.
For the first time in a long while, I’d felt that spark of interest. The curious urge to get to know someone. I often wonder if he and his ex made up when he got back home.
In my head I imagine they didn’t. And that he’s sitting somewhere thinking of me like I think of him.
I’m still smiling when I go to bed that night. And if I fall asleep picturing dark, messy hair and brown eyes, then that’s my business.
Saturday morning dawns crisp and clear, only a few wispy clouds in a beautiful blue sky.
There’s a chill in the air, but not anywhere as cold as it can get around here.
It’s the perfect day for a hike, but since it’s coming up to our busiest time of the year at the tree farm, I’m not going to have any free weekends between now and Christmas.
This morning I’m up early to deliver two Christmas trees to Hailey and her wife, Charlotte, who run the Charnwell Inn.
They’re a little late with their decorations this year, but I guess having an almost one year old in the house will do that.
I’m taking them one tree for inside and a taller one for out front.
Not gonna lie, I always get a kick out of seeing them all lit up when we go for a drink.
It takes about twenty minutes to get to the pub from the farm. I spot Vic getting out of his car as I turn into the car park. Lowering my window, I give him a wave as I pull up outside the front door. “Have they roped you in to help?”
Vic laughs. “Can you believe I actually offered this year?”
“Were you drunk?”
He holds his finger and thumb together. “Little bit.”
The door to the pub opens, but instead of Hailey or Charlotte, it’s Sean that comes out. Since he’s Vic’s husband, I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised that he’s here as well.
“Hey, Pete.” Sean smiles widely at me, eyes full of a mixture of amusement and mischief.
I glance between the two of them, suddenly feeling like I’m missing something. “Sean.” I nod in greeting. “Didn’t expect to see either of you this morning, let alone both of you.”
He shrugs. “Vic offered to help Hailey with their Christmas decorations, and I thought I’d tag along.” He gestures at the two trees I’ve brought. “I can give you a hand to unload if you like?”
Even though both trees are bigger than your average Christmas tree, I don’t necessarily need any help getting them down. I’ve perfected my technique over the years. But I do want to find out what’s making Sean act like he has a secret.
One that concerns me.