Page 3 of My Boyfriend Marks Trees
“We can’t get a tree this year, munchkin.”
The tyke’s lips turned down. “I know. ‘Cause we need food and not fri-vol-ussy things.”
Ares found himself tightening as the child inadvertently revealed the real reason they didn’t have one.
“One day, I’ll get you the biggest tree you ever saw,” the woman murmured as she crouched by the child.
“Okay.” Greta didn’t have a tantrum like some kids. She took it like a champ.
Mom leaned close to whisper, “I saw a snowman wandering.”
“Snowmen can’t walk,” snorted the kid.
“Well, this one is, and he has candy canes!”
“Oooh.” Greta glanced left and right before spotting the suited character. “I see him!” She bolted for the snowman with candy.
The woman rose. “Sorry if she disturbed you.”
“Nah, she was fine. Cute kid.”
Fine pup,wolf agreed.
“Precocious with no filter, you mean.”
His lips curved. “She is. She mentioned you guys don’t have a tree. Why don’t you take one, on the house?”
She eyed him, her expression suspicious at the offer. “I don’t need your charity.”
“Hardly charity. I already know I won’t sell all of these. Therefore, you taking one now saves me carting it back to my place.”
Her lips pursed. “While your offer is kind, I’m afraid I don’t have a way to get it to our place. But thank you.”
With that, the pretty woman turned, that sweet ass of hers mesmerizing—good enough to bite—and headed after her daughter.
Ares found himself glancing at the woman often as she strolled the Christmas market, not buying anything but managing to give her kid a fun afternoon that included face painting, a visit from Santa, and, of course, a fistful of candy canes. He even spotted her walking away, holding the tyke’s hand as they sang carols, not heading for a car but moving out of sight on foot. Probably lived in the area.
When Ares closed up, toting five trees back onto the trailer he’d used to haul them, he noticed a red mitten lying on the ground. A woolen one he recognized with a name stitched inside.
Greta Dawson.
The kid would need it with snow in the forecast and mom tight on dough.
With a tree over his shoulder, and the mitten in hand giving him a scent, he retraced their footsteps. He almost missed the turn onto a side street. His wolf didn’t, though.
They went that way.
He pivoted and kept strolling, wondering what he’d say. After all, she’d probably wonder how he found her. He couldn’t exactly say he had a super sense of smell. What would sound plausible, instead? It hit him then. He’d seen her filling out a giveaway ballot with the lady who knitted stuffed animals. With the last name on the mitten, he could have easily matched them up.
Excuse found just in time as his wolf huffed,Here.
The townhome, which probably had seen better years since it had been built fifty years ago, looked tidy compared to its neighbors. The walkway clear of snow and ice. A wreath, which had obviously been made by a child using colored construction paper, hung on the door. The front window glowed, highlightingthe hand-drawn picture of Santa—with a toothy smile a wolf would envy—taped in it.
Ares knocked and stood waiting, slightly nervous. Blame the fact he’d never done anything so bold before, but he couldn’t help himself. He could claim he did a good deed returning the mitten, but in truth, he kind of wanted to see the kid’s mom again.
When the door flung open, the woman exclaimed, “What are you doing here?”
Ares held up the mitten. “I found this.”