Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

TEDDY

I didn’t want to work with Charlotte, but it was the best way to keep an eye on her. If she was out to scam my father or us, I’d know it. That’s what I told myself anyway.

I approached Wes, who was watching the high school kids put the trees through the wrapping machine, and then passing them off to the team that handled securing them to the roofs of cars.

“Charlotte’s working today,” Wes said unnecessarily.

My jaw tightened. “I’m aware.”

“And you’re showing her around,” he continued, his gaze never wavering from the operation.

I nodded tightly. “Dad wanted me to.”

Wes raised a brow. “Since when do you do things because Dad wants you to?”

Dad had been insisting on making more decisions around the farm, and it was his right. I just didn’t like it. “It’s his farm.”

“Here she comes.” Wes tipped his head in Charlotte’s direction. She was walking toward us, but her gaze was on the fields in the distance, a look of intense admiration on her face .

“She’s going to help out here next,” I said to cover the fact I was checking out the way her legs moved in those tight leggings. She wore a flannel over a white tank. Nothing about the outfit was sexy, but I couldn’t look away.

“You’re going to go along with whatever marketing things she comes up with?” Wes asked.

I shook my head. “I still don’t think we need an outsider’s advice.”

“You don’t want advice, or you don’t want Charlotte’s advice?” His voice was tinged with amusement.

My face screwed up as I considered Wes’s question. “Isn’t that the same thing?”

“Not at all,” he said cryptically as Charlotte stopped in front of us.

“Happy Saturday! It’s a beautiful day,” Charlotte sang, radiating sunshine.

Wes grinned, clearly pleased with her. “You enjoying your day on the farm?”

I had the urge to punch him in the face. He was married. There was no way he was interested in this woman.

Charlotte nodded eagerly. “It’s been so enlightening.”

Wes shot an amused look in my direction. “Enlightening, huh?”

“I have so many ideas I want to implement.”

I held up my hands as if to ward her off. “Let’s slow down a bit. Any ideas need to be run past me and Dad.”

Charlotte frowned. “Al gave me leave to implement whatever I thought was necessary.”

Irritation shot through me, even though I was aware that Wes was watching me closely. “No matter what it costs?”

Charlotte fumbled over her words. “Well, no. I’d discuss that with Al.”

“And me.”

Charlotte’s smile flattened. “We can discuss this later. ”

Wes pushed me with a hand on my shoulder. “Yeah, Teddy, we can discuss this later.”

“Are you two done now?” Wes’s behavior reminded me of when we were teenagers and he’d mock me for trying to be the man of the house. His words. Not mine.

There was no trying about it. When Mom died, someone had to step up. Dad was a mess, and someone had to run the farm, encourage the kids to eat and get to school. Someone had to do it, and it was obvious that someone was me.

Charlotte was watching our exchange, her gaze volleying between us. “You’re too cute.”

Both of us paused and looked at her.

“Cute?” Wes asked, his tone carefully measured.

She grinned, and I was struck by how beautiful she was when she smiled. “Yeah, cute.”

“You know men don’t like to be called cute, right?” I asked her.

She smiled so wide, a dimple popped on her left cheek. “I just call it like I see it. Which one of you brave men is going to show me what I should be doing?”

Wes shook his head, then slapped me hard on the arm. “I think it’s this guy. Go easy on him though.”

Charlotte looked at me expectantly. “I’m a little nervous about losing a finger, but I’m excited to learn how you do this part.”

Wes chuckled as he stepped away, and I refrained from calling him a bastard. Dad raised us better, and I’d stopped acting childish after Mom died. There hadn’t been time to be a kid anymore.

“You’re not going to lose a finger,” I said as I led the way over to the baler. It wasn’t necessary for her to learn this part, but I wanted to challenge her. Maybe she’d leave if it was too hard.

“Are you sure about that?” Charlotte asked dubiously as we paused in front of the machine. The guys placed the tree through the machine, and it came out on the other side wrapped tightly and ready for transport on the roof of a car or the bed of a truck.

“The tree goes through the funnel that forces the branches tight against the trunk and wraps it with a plastic netting for easy transport. Technically, we could wrap a hundred trees an hour, but we don’t usually have that many guests.”

Charlotte winked at me. “Maybe you will.”

I raised a brow. “I’d have to see it to believe it.”

“What do you need me to do?” Charlotte asked nervously.

“You mind if I show her how it’s done?” I asked one of the kids; I think his name was Will.

“No problem, boss.” Will stepped to the side, already pulling out his phone.

A second kid stood at the other end, ready to catch the wrapped tree. I motioned for Charlotte to stand by my side.

The next person in line handed me a tree. “You just feed it through the machine like this, and it comes out on the other side wrapped.”

When it was done, I said, “Happy holidays,” to the customer and his family.

“Look at that. You do have holiday cheer,” Charlotte observed.

I frowned. “I’m just being nice. Now, it’s your turn.”

Charlotte’s nose turned up. “You sure I won’t get hurt.”

“Here, put these on.” I handed her the thick gloves I kept in my back pocket. They were too big, but they’d do the trick. I tried not to think about how they looked on her much smaller hands.

Her cheeks were rosy from the cold. She bit her lip before taking the next tree and feeding it through. She squeaked when the machine grabbed the tree from her hands. Her startled gaze flew to mine.

“That’s right. ”

We walked around the funnel to find the tree wrapped tightly. “Perfect.”

She rested a hand on her chest. “I was worried that I would ruin their tree.”

I shook my head. “Not possible. You want to take over this for a bit? Then later I’ll show you how to secure a tree to the roof.”

“Yeah, okay,” Charlotte said with less certainty than when I left her at the counter. I figured this was out of her wheelhouse. She didn’t feel as comfortable with manual labor.

I told Will to grab lunch, then kept a close eye on Charlotte as she fed each tree into the machine. The difference between her and the high school kids was that once she got the hang of it, she engaged each family in conversation. She asked them what made them decide on this particular tree and where they were from.

I figured she was gathering data about our customers so she could form some conclusions, but also that she was genuinely nice and interested in other people. She always said happy holidays, and it wasn’t my imagination, but the exchange was lighter than when the kids worked the bailer.

You couldn’t help but be drawn to Charlotte. She was so full of energy. It used to annoy me, but now I was starting to think I liked it.

Wes stood next to me. “Things going okay over here?”

“She’s doing a good job.”

“Does she need you to be watching every second, or do you think you could help with the cars? I sent the kids for break.”

“I can do that,” I said with one last glance in Charlotte’s direction. She was smiling at a young man who was here seemingly by himself. I couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but his gaze was on Charlotte as she talked animatedly about something .

What could they possibly be talking about? Shouldn’t she be working?

“Come on. The line’s getting long,” Wes called to me, diverting my attention to the cars.

We got to work, easily falling into a rhythm we developed as teenagers. One of us worked each side of the car, securing the cables to the car. Then we’d step off and do the next one. The line was moving in no time, and when the kids returned from their break, we reluctantly stepped aside.

It felt good to be physical. It’s why I enjoyed working on the farm, being outside in the cold, and ticking off my list of things to do.

“You think Charlotte’s big enough to secure the trees to the cars?” Wes asked.

“We’re going to find out.” We never had someone work here who was especially short. We usually hired guys, and the one girl who was interested in working here specifically asked to work at the front counter.

I moved to where she stood talking to a single mother whose kids were dancing to some tune the youngest was singing. When she looked at me, I asked, “You ready to learn the next step?”

Her gaze darted toward the line of cars where the kids were still working. “Yeah, sure.”

It was said with a lot less enthusiasm, but I was determined that she learn all aspects of the business. If she was going to give us advice, then she should understand the heart of the business. This was the experience the customers came here for.

They didn’t need Santa photos or festivals. I was positive Charlotte would see that. This was a simple operation. They came for a tree, and we gave them one.

This time, I asked Brian to step aside so I could show Charlotte how to secure the tree. I stepped into the open doorway of the van, securing my side before throwing it to the other side where Will grabbed it and secured it. “Just step up here, then secure the cable here. Easy peasy.”

“You make it look easy, but I’m not sure I’ll be able to manage.”

“You can do it.” I would have showed Daphne how to do it if she’d been interested, but she preferred hanging out in the kitchen. We couldn’t argue with the baked cookies that she left for us when we were done with work. “Your turn.”

Charlotte let out a breath as the next car pulled up. “Okay.”

This one was an SUV. It would be more difficult for her to reach. But I wanted her to try.

I opened the door, and she stepped up. When Brian threw the cable in her direction, I moved it so she could reach it. When she struggled to secure the cable, I showed her again how it was done. That meant her back was pressed to my front, and I could barely breathe.

As soon as it was secured, I stepped back. “Good. Try the next one.”

Charlotte blew her hair out of her face as she stepped down and waited for the next car to pull up. This one was a sedan, and I was positive she could do it on her own.

I handed her the cables; she secured one on her own, then threw the other end to Will. They had the tree secured in seconds.

This time when she stepped back, Charlotte was grinning.

“I told you that you could do it.”

Charlotte smiled. “Thanks for believing in me.”

That made me pause. Is that why I’d insisted she take on the task, or was it to scare her away? I wasn’t sure what to say to her appreciation, so I said nothing.

I rolled my shoulders and when the next car pulled up, Charlotte got to work. I took the opportunity to slip away. Her gratitude made me uncomfortable because I wasn’t doing it for the right reasons. I was still pushing her away when Dad wanted me to help her.

I couldn’t shake the uneasiness over my actions, so I volunteered to take a family to find their tree. I could hike and forget about the weird feelings Charlotte stirred up in me.

Unlike Charlotte, I didn’t get involved with the customers. I kept everyone at a nice, safe distance. I’d felt the pain of loss, and I had no interest in feeling it again.

By the time I returned, the crowd had dwindled slightly, and Charlotte was resting on a hay bale, drinking water.

“Sitting on the job,” I couldn’t stop myself from saying with a slight edge to my voice.

Charlotte looked up at me, a crease forming between her brows. “I think I secured about a hundred trees. My back and arms hurt.”

“I’m not saying you didn’t need a break.” This was one of those times where my mouth ran away from me.

“Weren’t you?” Charlotte’s tone was exasperated.

I stretched my neck, wishing I could disappear to my house where I had no neighbors, family members, or even Charlotte to question me.

Charlotte sighed, and an uncomfortable sensation slid through my chest. “I’m going to head home and take a bath. I don’t want to be sore tomorrow.”

A vision of Charlotte naked in the bathtub jumped into my head. Would she close her eyes and touch herself?

Charlotte stood, dropping her empty bottle in the recycling can, and waved in my direction. “I’ll see you later.”

I jogged to keep up with her, not sure why I was insisting on joining her. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“That’s not necessary,” Charlotte insisted, waving at coworkers we passed.

She’d been here for a few hours, and the employees already loved her .

“What do you think?” I forced myself to make small talk. Suddenly, I didn’t want her to be mad at me.

Charlotte’s gaze drifted to me. “Of you or the farm?”

I cleared my throat, not wanting to hear what she thought of me. I was positive it wasn’t good. My reputation never bothered me before. But for some reason, I was starting to care how this woman perceived me. “The farm, of course.”

She snorted, and I had to look at her face to ensure I’d heard her right.

Charlotte Monroe smiled, laughed, and always had something positive to say. But snorting in disbelief? Never.

This was a new side to her, and I wondered if I was the only one who brought out the snark.

“It was enlightening. I learned a lot. The best part was getting to know the customers.”

“You come to any conclusions?” I asked, despite myself. I was supposed to be telling her we didn’t need her advice, not encouraging her to give it.

“I think we need to give people more of an experience. Quite a few said it was convenient. That they didn’t have time to drive to Monroe Farm.”

I clapped my hands together. “There you go. They don’t have time for more of an experience.”

She gave me a look. “Everyone has time for a holiday experience.”

We’d come to a stop next to her little red car. “What does that even mean?”

Charlotte smiled and placed her hand over my heart.

It was becoming a habit of hers, and I enjoyed it too much. Could she feel how hard my heart beat for her?

“It means, Theodore, that you offer your guests hot chocolate, hot apple cider, and cookies. You sell wreaths, garland, and holiday decor.”

“The Monroes already have a shop, and I go by Teddy.” Only Mom called me Theodore, and the reminder made my heart constrict.

Charlotte’s hand slid slightly as she moved even closer. Now her hand was hovering on my stomach, tantalizingly close to my waist band. Was anyone watching us? Did they see how stiff I was holding myself? Did they think I was uncomfortable, or did they know how much I wanted this woman? I’d try to deny the attraction, but with her in my space, there was no disputing it. I wanted her.

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “The Monroes don’t hold the market on Christmas shops.”

My jaw tightened as she looked up at me from under her eyelashes. “Everyone loves to buy things. They come here to kick off the Christmas season or to add to their holiday events, and when they do, they feel good.”

She emphasized each word until I felt them in my groin.

I wanted her to make me feel good, but I was almost positive she wasn’t talking about me or my dick.

“They want to capitalize on that feeling. They want more. They want to buy things and fill their home with joy and memories of this farm.”

I shook my head before she’d even finished her declaration.

She arched one delicate brow. “No?”

“No,” I said tightly.

Her hand shifted, and I grabbed her wrist out of self-preservation. She had no idea how close I was to snapping.

Her wrist was delicate in my grip, her pulse fluttered under my fingers. Her breath hitched, and I wanted to lean down and possess her mouth.

She tipped her head to the side as if she was trying to figure me out. “What do you think they want?”

“I think they want a tree.”

Charlotte tipped her head back and laughed .

The sound was sweet to my ears, but I had a feeling she was laughing at me.

When she recovered, a grin played on her face. “You’re funny.”

“I’m not. At all.” No one had ever said that about me, so if she was saying that, she was making fun of me.

“Relax.”

I was still holding her wrist, but her free hand came up to touch me.

“I think you’re funny.”

“Why are you always touching me?” I wanted my voice to be hard, but it came out soft.

Charlotte’s brow furrowed. “I’m a touchy-feely person.” She pulled away, and I let her go. “Sorry, I forget you don’t like it.”

I let her think I didn’t like to be touched, even though it couldn’t be further from the truth. I liked when she touched me.

She clicked the locks on her car, opened the door, and slid inside.

Right before I closed her door, I said, “Enjoy your bath.” My voice sounded like I was talking around stones, and my skin felt like it was on fire. It was a combination of her touch, her proximity, and the challenge I saw in her eyes.

She was reacting to something between us. I was positive she wasn’t attracted to me, but she was picking up on my energy. Right now, I wanted to follow her home and into her cottage. I wanted to see if I’d fit into that tub with her.

Charlotte merely raised her brow, then backed up.

I wouldn’t be able to relax tonight, not with visions of her naked in the tub. If I came home to her, I’d go straight to the bathroom, dropping my uniform as I went. And when I got to the bathroom, she’d be waiting for me with a seductive grin on her face, her hands already playing with her clit and slipping inside .

I adjusted myself before I went back to work. I wouldn’t get that vision out of my head any time soon.