Page 7 of My Boyfriend Marks Trees

Charlotte saw him to the door and murmured, “Have a good evening.”

“You too, Charly.”

Wait, Charly?

She was still blinking at the nickname as he crossed the street to a pickup truck. Stared at his ass in his snug jeans and wondered why a man like him would even be interested.

At twenty-five, with a six-year-old, and a few pounds too many—"you fat cunt, you disgust me”—she had no illusions about how men saw her. Maybe he really just was a nice guy trying to spread joy.

Not that it mattered. She’d most likely never see him again. Still, she didn’t toss his card but stuck it to the fridge. After all, she did love cheese.

Chapter 3

Ares foundhimself not caring that his favorite station played Christmas tunes instead of their usual heavy metal. In fact, he even hummed along as he headed home. While he’d only planned to drop off the tree and mitten, he found himself spending two hours with Charlotte and her kid. He’d never seen himself as the domestic type, but there’d been something really nice about hanging with them. Making decorations like he used to when he was a boy. Soaking up the joy oozing from Greta. Finding himself watching and being all too aware of Charlotte, the woman who eyed him with suspicion.

With reason. He could see why she might be leery. His actions weren’t just out of character; they could be seen as creepy. He’d almost stumbled giving a plausible explanation for how he’d known her address. Luckily, she had filled out a giveaway ballot so she didn’t completely catch him in a lie but it had been close especially since he’d not known her first name when he’d gone knocking. Only by chance did he see a piece of mail lying on the table addressed to Charlotte.

All that trouble to meet her, and he doubted she’d invite him back. The offer for dinner was likely made to placate Greta. Still… she did have his number.

She won’t call.

His wolf seemed certain and was probably right, which kind of bummed. He wouldn’t have minded getting to know Charly better. Charly… the nickname had slipped from his lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

He entered his place to find his mom and sister singing at the top of their lungs to Boney M. To their shock, he joined in with his deep baritone.

It led to them gaping.

“Jeezus, you’re like pythons with your unhinged jaws,” Ares remarked as he grabbed a carrot from the dish steaming on the stove and popped it into his mouth.

“You’re in a good mood,” his mother stated as she pulled out some plates.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you hate dealing with people,” Selene remarked.

He did. “I sold most of the trees.”

“Not surprising, given how late you stayed,” Mom observed as she began ladling potatoes and veggies onto the plates.

“Actually, I stopped by someone’s place to donate one of the leftovers and stayed to help them set it up.”

“Oh, who?” Selene asked, grabbing cutlery from the drawer.

“You don’t know them. I actually just met Charlotte and her kid today. Greta, her daughter, lost a mitten, and I returned it. Since they didn’t have a tree, I gave them one.”

“Wait, you went to give it back in person?” Selene’s eyes rounded.

“Well, yeah. They lived just up the road from the church.”

“And you just happened to notice where they went when they left…” Selene snorted. “How good-looking was she?”

“That had nothing to do with it,” Ares protested, fighting the heat that wanted to rise in his cheeks.

His wolf chuffed.She knows you’re lying.

“Sure, it didn’t,” Selene drawled.

“I think that was a very nice thing for you to do,” Mom said as she threw hunks of roast pork onto plates.