Livia grinned. “It’s kind of the Applewhite thing. Goes with the territory when you have a tree farm.”
“I suppose it does. Do you ever get tired of it? All the hustle and bustle and forced holiday cheer?” Tara was pretty sure she was caroling in her sleep these days.
“Only when it starts the day after Halloween. The actual traditions attached to this place…nah. It’s all part of marking the seasons here. And it’s a privilege to be a part of so many families’ holiday traditions.”
“I’m sure after spending the holiday out here, the kids will be campaigning to make this a part of ours. Jace may have created a monster.”
“He’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. The apartment’s just up those stairs. It’s unlocked. Sorry to leave you here, but I’ve got bread coming out of the oven in a few minutes.”
“No problem. Thanks again.”
Livia disappeared before she could ask where her brother and sister were. With Jace, probably, given how they’d both glommed onto him like he was the best thing since peanut butter met chocolate. She’d just check the place out and breathe a minute before going to find him. Them, she corrected. She needed to steer clear of Jace.
Stairs went straight up to her left, just inside the barn door, then angled back right toward a railed space that began what had once probably been a hay loft. Tara sniffed, but the place didn’t smell of hay, more like pine or cedar, with a faint undertone of…apples? She made her way up the stairs, glancing down at the equipment neatly stowed below. It seemed like a sort of carriage house with tractor attachments lined up in rows down the side walls.
As Livia promised, the apartment door was unlocked. She opened it, expecting to have to fumble for a light switch, and stopped dead in the doorway.
He’d brought their tree.
The fully decorated Fraser fir that’d been in her living room a few hours before now stood in a place of honor near the window, twinkle lights blinking on and off in the darkness.
Tara stared for a long moment before absently reaching to turn on a lamp. Slowly, she circled the tree, marveling that the ornaments were not only intact, they seemed to be more or less exactly where they’d been originally. How the hell had he pulled this off? And when? He’d shown up at the house just before Tara had left to go teach her 5:30 yoga class and somehow she’d been agreeing to let him take the kids and their stuff out to the farm so they wouldn’t have to hang out in the gym office while she taught.
She wasn’t purely sure how that happened either.
What was she even doing here?
Footsteps tromped up the stairs and the man himself ducked into the entryway. “Oh good, you made it. Are you finding everything okay?”
“I just got here. Livia pointed me up.”
“How’d your class go?”
“Fine.” Though every bit of zen she’d earned from the practice had evaporated when he’d walked into the room.
Jace crossed to one of the doors at the back of the apartment. “We put your stuff in here. Kids are across the hall.”
Because she didn’t know what else to do, Tara walked over and peered into both rooms. Twin beds were set up in each, cheerfully made up in red and green plaids. Her bags were set up on one of them. Her siblings had already laid claim to their room, Ginny scattering stuffed animals—far more than she’d had packed when Tara left her—and Austin his art supplies and comic books.
“Well, I guess they’ve made themselves right at home.”
A chuckle rumbled in Jace’s chest. “They’re great.
She sighed and turned toward him, suddenly finding herself at eye level with his mouth. Because she wanted to stare at it, Tara forced her eyes upward. His cheeks were ruddy from the cold and he smelled of evergreens. She had the ridiculous desire to lean in for a better sniff, wanting to stroke her hand along the five o’clock shadow that darkened his cheeks.
Idiot. She wasn’t in a position to be noticing the fact that he was incredibly attractive. She had far too many responsibilities for that.
“So, um, where are the little heathens?”
“In the kitchen with Mom, baking cookies.”
“Cookies?” Tara couldn’t keep the alarm out of her voice. “Ginny’s diabetic. Has she been eating the—”
“Sugar free cookies,” Jace assured her. “Austin’s keeping an eagle eye on her. He warned us before we got started.”
Tara exhaled slowly, willing her heartbeat to slow. “Sorry. We had an ER trip last year with a massive hyperglycemic attack. I guess I’m still not over it.”
“It’s fine. I don’t expect that’s the kind of scare you ever really get over.”