“I know. We may run out of trees next weekend if the crowds keep up like this.”
“That wouldn’t be a bad thing.”
“Not at all; gives me more time to spend with Abby.”
At that moment, Abby looked up and our eyes met. A wide grin appeared on her face and she motioned for me to come over to the table.
“Kyle, I’m pretty sure Arabella needs help at her table.”
He mumbled under his breath, but I knew deep down he was more than happy to help.
I made my way over to the table and stood next to Abby. “Alright, where’s my help needed?”
Abby handed me the wire. “If you could help Andrew wire his branches together, I can start making bows.”
“Bows!” one little girl called out. “Can mine be green?”
“I want red!” Andrew stated.
Abby laughed. “I’ll make red, green, and white. Then you can pick.”
The rest of the kids started calling out what color bow they wanted. Abby chatted with each of them as she made bows, while I helped Andrew make his wreath. Every now and then I would glance over at her. She worked flawlessly with the kids, and I knew she was going to make an amazing mother. I couldn’t wait until the day I saw her holding our child in her arms.
I felt my eyes grow wet, and I blinked rapidly.
Someone tugged on my shirt. “Excuse me, sir?”
Glancing down, I looked into the sweetest pair of brown eyes. “What may I help you with, young lady?”
“My daddy said you grow all the Christmas trees.”
I nodded. “I do.”
She motioned for me to come closer, as if she had a secret to tell me. I leaned down and smiled. Cupping her hand to my ear, she whispered, “I like the s’mores more than the trees, but don’t tell Daddy. He likes the trees.”
Laughing, I stood and crossed my fingers over my heart. “Your secret is safe with me.”
She turned and scampered back over to her father, who held up his finished wreath and showed it to his daughter.
Abby walked up and slid her arm around my waist. “What was that all about?”
I smiled and looked down at her. Her hazel eyes caught the sparkle of the twinkly lights that were strung across the ceiling of the room. God, she was so damn beautiful. I wanted to bend her back and kiss the living shit out of her—and would have done it if there weren’t so many kids in the room.
“She wanted to tell me she liked the s’mores better than the trees.”
Abby giggled and watched as the father and daughter held up their wreaths and got their picture taken before they made their way out of the craft room and back into the main area of the barn.
“I’m exhausted,” Abby said, leaning her body into mine.
“Was this your last class?”
“Yes, thank goodness. I let Arabella talk me into doing this one. People were so sad when they found out we weren’t doing any more. When the kids look up at you with those sad puppy dog eyes, how can you say no?”
I laughed. “It’s simple, you say no.”
She shook her head. “Tell that to Arabella.”
“You two were up early this morning in the greenhouse. Are you sure you still want to have a Christmas Eve luncheon?”
“Yes! I’m so excited for it.”
I pulled her against me and wrapped my arms around her. “If it makes you happy, then I’m all for it. And you’re sure you don’t need help? I can hire someone to clean up the greenhouse.”
She shook her head. “Nope. We’ve got all the plants out already, and this morning we started giving everything a good cleaning. It almost looks brand new.”
I felt my smile slip some, but before I could say anything, Abby pressed her finger to my lips. “No more feeling guilty. We both promised.”
“You’re right,” I said before I kissed her on the nose. “Let’s clean up this room, then I’m taking you back up to the house, and we’re sitting in front of the fire.”
A sexy grin appeared on her face. She lowered her voice and asked, “Just sitting by the fire?”
Before I could reply with my naughty version of what we’d do by that fire, Andrew ran up to us. “Thank you, Ms. Abby, for helping me with my wreath!”
“You’re so welcome, but it was Mr. Bishop here who really helped you.”
Andrew looked up at me and offered a toothless smile. “Thanks!”
He pushed past us and into the main area of the barn. Arabella and Kyle walked up and joined us. When a mom and her two little girls looked like they might make their way into the craft room, Kyle shut the door, nearly in their faces.
“Oh, Kyle, we could have showed them how to make a wreath,” Arabella protested.
“No more wreath-making for me,” Kyle stated, shooting me a dirty look.