CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Rebecca—
It’s quarter to ten in the morning on opening day, and I’m a nervous wreck.
We open in minutes. I pace around the property checking everything.
The tree lot looks good, Christmas music is playing, and my sister and her kids agreed to help run the gift shop and concessions.
And Eric is manning the cash and carry lot.
JJ’s got the tree shaker machine and bagging machine ready to go and saws available for use. He and one of my sister’s boys are ready to assist people with bringing their trees in from the fields.
There’s a bonfire going, and I’ve got a table of s’mores supplies at the ready.
Our Instagram spot looks great, and we’ve even put a red bow around Buddy’s neck. He’s the official greeter, with tail wags and hand licks for all.
“Take a deep breath,” JJ whispers in my ear from behind me. I turn and grin. He and I and all our volunteers are wearing long-sleeved red thermal shirts with our logo over the chest.
“That shirt looks good on you.”
He returns my grin. “Thanks. This gorgeous woman bought it for me.”
I chuckle. “She has good taste.”
“She does.”
The sound of tires on gravel carries to us, and we both turn to scan the drive.
“Our first customer,” I whisper.
“Game time,” JJ replies, putting a hand on my shoulder. “You ready?”
“As I’ll ever be.”
“The place looks good. Everything’s going to be fine. You should be proud of all the work you did on the place. Now we sit back and rake in the dough.”
“I hope you’re right.”
Our first customers are Miles and his wife and little girl. She’s an eight-year-old cutie with freckles and her father’s curly hair.
I introduce Miles to JJ, and he takes them out to the tree lot for a fresh-cut tree. When they return, they come into the gift shop, and I give his daughter a stuffed “Buddy” as a gift.
They thank me, then go make some s’mores and get a photo in front of the red pickup.
“Be sure to post it,” I tell Miles.
“Absolutely,” his wife says with a smile. “We had a great time.”
When they pull out, there are several more customers on the property, and as the day progresses, we get more and more crowded.
At one point, as darkness falls and the fire is going and the little lights twinkling, I stare around at all we’ve accomplished, and pride swells in my chest.
We did it; we actually pulled it off. And with no catastrophes like we had at the pumpkin sale.
JJ and I are now truly working well together, and everything is falling into place.
For the first time, I feel like this dream I had is possible, that this business will be the success I knew it could be.
Everything inside me settles, and the anxiety leaves.
I’m exhausted by the time 8pm rolls around and we close up the place.
JJ rides down to the highway and shuts our gate.
Amanda, Eric and their kids come inside, and we sit at the dining table, having hot cocoa and talking about the night.
“Everything seemed to go off without a hitch,” Eric says.
“Yes, and we couldn’t have done it without all your help,” I say.
“So, we were able to help you today, but who’s going to help you the rest of the time?” Amanda asks.
I look to JJ.
“Um, I guess your sister was right weeks ago when she told me we needed more than just the two of us to run this place,” he replies.
“We’ll get by,” I say, but JJ shakes his head.
“No. I’ll put out the word and see if I can hire some people tomorrow.”
“Better late than never,” Amanda says, standing. “We’ve got to get these kids home. Good luck tomorrow.”
We walk them out and wave goodbye. Then JJ shoves his hands in his pockets and looks at me. “I’ll get us some help. I promise.”
I nod, and we head inside. “Let’s see what we made,” I say.
We go over the register receipts from the gift shop and tree lot. It was a good night; better than I expected.
I yawn.
“You must be exhausted,” JJ says. He stands and moves behind my chair, his hands closing over my shoulders to massage them with a strong, steady grip.
My head rolls to the side. “Mmm. That feels so good.”
“Then I’ll keep doing it.” His massaging continues, and I let him keep going, enjoying every second of it.
“You must be tired, too,” I whisper.
“I’m good. And I meant what I said earlier. Tomorrow morning, I’ll go in and see if I can find us some help. Maybe the lady at the church will know some kids looking for work. Or maybe I’ll stop by the high school and ask if they know anyone. I’ll find someone. I promise.”
I lay my hand over his. “I know you will.”
“I should have hired those two who came looking that day.”
“If you’re waiting for me to say I told you so, I’m not going to say it.”
“But I deserve it.”
“You had no clue what this would entail.”
“No, but you did. You knew from the start we’d need help,” he murmurs.
“In fairness, JJ, I think you knew we needed help as well; you just didn’t want to pay for it.”
“There wasn’t much money in that business account.”
“I know,” I admit.
“We’ll make it work, Becca. It’s good knowing we had a great opening day. It makes me feel better about spending the extra money on hiring some people.”
“True.”
JJ dips his head and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Go get some sleep. Tomorrow, it starts all over again.”
I groan and lower my head to the table.
He chuckles behind me. “Do I need to carry you to bed?”
His words send a thrill skittering through my body when I imagine it, but he’s only joking. I rein in my thoughts before my imagination runs wild, and I remind myself not to take his words for more than just humor.
Pushing my chair from the table, I come to my feet. “Thanks for all your hard work today, JJ.”
“You don’t have to thank me. I’m your partner, remember?”
“I do. We sure came a long way from that disaster of a pumpkin sale, didn’t we?”
He grins. “Yeah, we did. Everything fell together today.”
“With a lot of hard work and planning,” I remind him. “Nothing just falls together, JJ.”
He shoves his hands in his hip pockets. “You’re right. You’ve been right about everything, Becca. You’re a smart cookie. Speaking of…” He reaches behind me and grabs a Santa-shaped cookie, biting the head off.
I laugh, watching him chew and moan around the mouthful.
“Mmm… so good.”
He’s teasing me; I know he hates those cookies.
“You can spit it out, you know? You won’t offend me. Not everyone likes gingerbread.”
He grabs a napkin and does just that. “Thanks. They’re horrible.”
I chuckle. “Goodnight, JJ.”
“Goodnight, partner.”
I don’t miss the way his eyes trail over my body as I turn to head to the bedroom. As I close the door, I catch a glimpse of him still staring after me.