But then…no. What were we going to do? Have a couple of drinks, then trip back to his place for a wild night in? As goddamn magical as that sounded, it couldn’t happen. Something told me one taste of Fen Hawthorne would never be enough, and I had no plans on sticking around long enough for a second date. This one was symbolic—nostalgic, almost. Nothing else.
We exited the car onto the chaotic high street. Fen pointed north and gestured for me to follow him, which I did, all the while trying—and mostly failing—not to ogle the way his faded jeans hugged his thick legs. Taking in our surroundings was a healthy distraction—the bustle, the festive lights, and the scent of spicy baked goods in the air. “Why can I smell doughnuts?”
“Because they’re everywhere,” Fen said cryptically.
Or not that cryptically, as it turned out. The top of the street was a dead end by the primary school and the church. It was blocked off and set up as a Christmas market. A dinky doughnut stall was doing a roaring trade and every soul who passed me was carrying a paper cone of golf ball-sized treats dusted in cinnamon sugar. They really were everywhere.
“They smell like you,” Fen whispered.
I spun to face him, but he’d picked up his pace, striding to the end of the market where most of the crowds were gathered. When I caught up to him, I saw why. Christmas trees, hundreds of them, filled the street, set out in a maze that laughing kids were buzzing around.
“It’s our pop-up shop,” he explained. “Saves local folk paying shipping fees if they don’t want to schlep up the mountain, and brings people in from other places too.”
“Doing your bit for the local economy?”
“Something like that, though it’s more I don’t have the time to dig idiots in cars they don’t know how to drive out of the mud every ten minutes.”
I’d never noticed before how soft-spoken Fen was. Despite his deep, masculine voice, he rarely swore or spoke with fire, unlike me who wouldn’t have been out of place in a football firm. I liked it, his gentleness. It did something to me I couldn’t explain. “I’d have called them worse than idiots.”
He winked. “I know.”
The Christmas tree shop was being run by the wives of the men who worked on the farm but lived in the town. “It’s a good gig for them,” Fen told me. “I pay them well so I don’t have to worry about it if the weather keeps me on the fell.”
“Does it do well? The tree business, I mean.”
“Better than that. It makes more money in a month than everything else does all year round. Just as well, considering how much of my time the damn things take up.”
“I’ve never thought about the day in the life of a Christmas tree farmer.”
“Are you thinking about it now?”
More than you know. “A bit.”
“Happy to show you. Just say the word.”
The current between us flared to life again, but Fen was called away before I could do something really stupid, like volunteer as tribute to be his constant companion.
He spent the next half hour loading huge trees onto the back of a lorry. I tried not to stare and wandered off to buy doughnuts and hot cider. Christmas wasn’t usually my bag, but even my grumpy self found joy in spiced booze and cinnamon sugar. The brass band playing Christmas carols and the heavy scent of pine coating the air this close to the festive trees.
I need to buy Christmas presents.But I made no move to peruse the stalls filling the market.
I drank my cider and watched Fen instead, but somehow he still managed to surprise me when he joined me on the bench sometime later. “Did you save me a doughnut?”
“I did.” I held out the bag. “You’ve got the good ones at the bottom with all the sugar.”
“I’m sweet enough.”
I was inclined to agree, but I kept that to myself as I watched Fen devour the doughnuts and lick sugar from his lips while I tracked his tongue.
He caught me watching. “See something you like?”
“What do you think?”
“I think this date is rubbish so far as all I’ve done is take you to work with me.”
“Take me somewhere else then.”Take me to bed.Wow. My imagination was on fire today.
Luckily, Fen didn’t have X-ray vision into my brain. He held out his arm. I took it and let him tug me to my feet, and I didn’t let go.