Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
“Long enough to be tired of being harassed every single morning about my nipples,” I hiss at him, and Jack’s eyes widen as he looks at Nate, who holds up his hands.
“Relax,” he placates. “I haven’t seen her nipples out in the open, but she wears thin shirts, so I see what I don’t want to see.”
I tilt my head to the side. “It’s good to know you don’t want to see them.”
“That isn’t what I said,” he defends his words.
“This looks like fun,” Evie interrupts, coming to stand next to Jack, “are you guys arguing over which tree you want?” She wraps her arms around Jack’s waist.
“No, baby,” Jack says softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her to him before he then leans down to kiss her. “It’s about Nate not wanting to see Elizabeth’s nipples.”
“Oh, will the two of you get a room already?” I urge, walking past them and over to the other displays of trees that are now in a row from smallest to biggest.
I walk down and in between the different rows, looking at the trees with him following me. “Why are you following me?” I look over my shoulder.
“I’m following you because we are going to be getting one tree,” he tells me, “and we are going to agree on which one to get.”
“And I’m going to be the one to cut it down,” I declare, stopping at one that isn’t too tall but is full, and I run my hand over the pine needles.
“If you think you can cut down a tree”—his tone is condescending—“then I will watch you cut down a tree.”
“Oh, I’m going to cut it down all right,” I assure, “and it’s going to be this one.”
“Really?” he asks, walking around it. “This is the one you like out of all of them?”
I look at the tree again, second-guessing my choice as he walks to the one beside it and then the one next to it. “You didn’t even see them all.” He looks around some more.
“What is wrong with this one?” I ask him and he comes back.
“Absolutely nothing, but I don’t want you to argue with me later that we should have taken another one.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I want this one”—I point to the tree—“and I want to cut it down.” I look around and then spot a guy on a tractor with a red wagon behind it. I wave my hand in the air to flag him down and he comes over to us.
“Did you find the tree?” he asks, coming off the tractor and looking at the tree we are in front of. “This is a good one,” he says, “lots of green needles.”
“Yes.” I admire the tree I chose. “This is the one,” I tell him, “and I want to cut it down myself.”
He smiles at me, his white hair shining in the sunlight. If his beard was longer, he could pass for a Santa. “The lady is cutting down her own tree?”
“I’m also a doctor,” I inform him. “I did surgery rotation for a full six months.”
“Because cutting into flesh is the same thing as cutting into wood?” Nate asks me and I take off my glasses so he can see my glare.
The man walks over to the wagon and I’m expecting him to come back with a chainsaw or something along that line. What I’m not expecting is for him to come to me with a metal saw with a wooden top and a green metal handle. “Here you go, girlie”—he hands me the saw—“have at it.”
“Um,” I say, grabbing the saw from him by the handle and looking down at it and then back at Nate, who is smirking at me, and I know that I’m not going to let him win. “Okay,” I say, getting on my knees, then lying on my back to see the bottom of the tree. It’s a lot thicker than I thought it would be.
Nate comes over and squats down beside me. “So what are you thinking?” he asks me, and I can feel the wetness from the snow seeping into my black yoga pants.
“I’m thinking you shouldn’t be poking the bear,” I snap, “when the bear is holding a saw in her hand.”
“Um,” the guy says from behind Nate. “Not wanting to poke the bear”—he holds up his hand—“but I have a tarp in my wagon that we can put down so you aren’t soaking wet.”
“I will take the tarp,” I agree, moving to a sitting position, which just makes my ass even wetter. As he walks over to the back of his tractor, he takes out a folded beige tarp. “Here you go, young lady.” He hands me the tarp and I get up to grab it from him, putting the saw down on the ground and then unfolding the tarp.