Chapter Forty-Seven

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"This is looking more and more murdery by the second," I said skeptically, still wiggling my toes in the bottom of my boots to keep them warm.

"I'm not murdering you! I like you too much!" Grayson explained for the twenty-second time. "Besides, if I had wanted to murder you, I should've done it back in Vegas."

"Maybe you're a really stupid murderer who doesn't know when and where is the best setting to kill his victims," I retorted. The cold was making me grumpy.

Taking one hand off the wheel, he ran a hand down his face. "For the last time, Jackie, I am not nor will I ever be a murderer. We are literally doing the super-innocent, happy act of picking out a Christmas tree."

I wasn't convinced. "Then why are we on a scary dirt road?" I challenged.

"Jackie, I know you live in Virginia, but surely you know that pine trees grow in the woods, right?" Grayson asked weakly. He was so exasperated with me that I wasn't sure if he was joking or not.

"I do know that, and yet I also know that there are probably hundreds of tree farms in Toronto, one of them five minutes away from your penthouse," I said logically.

He gave me a pitying look. "It's the experience, Jacks. You can't just walk down to the tree shop and buy a tree, where's the fun in that?"

"Being warm," I offered.

"I thought I told you to dress warm," he sighed.

He had told me that. "I did! I wore my fleece leggings and this sweater and this winter coat," I said, proud of myself.

Grayson shook his head. "You also need gloves, a hat, a scarf, two layers of socks, and I'd be wearing two pairs of leggings."

"You'd wear leggings?" I teased.

"Maybe. If I needed to be warm, yeah," he said, not backing down. "You wish you were as cool as I am, wearing leggings."

"Wait, are you wearing them right now?" I asked, glancing over at his very-jean-clad legs.

"Underneath," was all he said.

I groaned, because there was never a way to win with him. "Fineeee, next time I'll wear double layers. Happy?"

"No. You're still freezing your butt off," he pointed out.

"Yup." As if I didn't know that.

Shaking his head, Grayson finally pulled off to the side. Was this a parking spot? An emergency lane? A strip of land chosen by Grayson without reason? Who knows?

"Here, let's bundle you up," he said once the car was parked. He took his own gloves and stuffed them on my hands and crammed his hat on my head.

"But you'll be cold," I argued, pushing the fabric back from my eyes.

He kissed my forehead, right under the edge of the wool hat. "I'm fine. I have the layers. Besides, you matter more."

"Hmph." Crossing my arms, I waddled after him, following him a little ways into the woods. I was alarmed to see the ax at his side, being casually swung.

"You're chopping it down?" I blurted out.

"Well, I don't see anyone else here who would chop it down for us," he reasoned. "Unless you want to give it a whirl?"

I grimaced. "I'd end up slicing my eye. Or your eye. Or both."

"Darling, don't ruin those pretty eyes," Grayson said with a grin. I rolled my 'pretty eyes' and walked along with him, admiring the fluffy pine trees.

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