8. Mitch

Mitch

W ho does he think he is, traipsing around here like he owns the place?

Sure, he actually does own the place, but I made it clear as fucking day that Amy is mine!

Except she’s not… She’s leaving tomorrow.

My priorities are all fucked up. My attention is focused on a beautiful enchantress, when I should be worried about my friend’s farm.

I’m almost finished setting everything up and counting the till when Amy walks in looking as if she wants to murder someone. Jasper probably snapped at her, but I have a feeling she snapped right back. She doesn’t take me as a woman who backs down from a challenge.

“Everything okay, Aces?”

Her eyes soften as she blows out a long breath. “Yeah, I’m fine. Need help with anything? ”

“No.” I glance around the small shop space. “We open in thirty minutes. Everything seems to be ready.”

Amy holds out a sweatshirt from the stack to get a better look at the farm logo, then refolds it. “This place is cute; I can see why everyone would want to get their trees from Jasper and not some makeshift lot in front of a market.”

“I hate that it might be his last year. The opening weekend accounts for over half the sales for the season. It’s part of the reason he’s on edge.”

“What’s the other reason?” she asks with a smirk. “He has a stick up his ass.”

“More like he wants his stick up you r ass,” I grumble to myself.

“Aw, are you nervous the hot cowboy is going to steal me away for a little anal?”

I snatch her by the waist and sit her on the counter. Standing between her legs, I lean in to whisper beside her ear, “He can fuck your ass if you want, but your sweet cunt is all mine.”

Her breath catches. “You’re awfully possessive for a man who met me yesterday .”

“Yup,” I reply unfazed by the comment. As I pull back, I steal a chaste kiss from her lips. Fuck, I love kissing her, but I want her craving me. “You love it, though, don’t you, Aces? Two men fighting over you… Are you wet thinking about being used by me and Jasper?”

Amy gasps, then stops and starts a protest she can’t manage to get out. Finally, she settles on, “You don’t want that. ”

“Do you want that? You’re only here for the weekend, why not have a bit of fun?” I try to sound as nonchalant as I can, but I fucking like this girl.

“I—”

“Can you not fuck in here? This is a family establishment,” Jasper barks with no bite. I glance over my shoulder at him, wondering how long he’s been here and if he overheard anything. Amy is a bit flustered, so it’s possible she didn’t notice him come in either.

“No one is fucking anyone,” I growl then wink at Amy. “Everything is ready for us to open for the day, just need to show Aces how to sell a few trees.”

Jasper leaves in a huff, and I expected at least a chuckle from Amy. Instead, she mutters, “We should get to work.”

The next several hours are brutal. I wish I could say it was due to a constant flow of traffic, but we’ve only sold five trees. Five and a half if you include the snow globe that has a tree in it. If Jasper was paying us, he’d be financially upside down for the day.

“We need an event like last night,” Amy suggests. “If they aren’t going to buy trees, they need to buy Jasper’s merch; he needs to look at his other streams of income. My parents also sell custom lollipops—the big ones you get at fairs or amusement parks. Candy canes aren’t profitable year-round, so they had to pivot to make up the difference.”

“What kind of event can we put on with short notice?”

She chews on her lip. “What about a Santa? We could see if The Reindeer Cafe could provide a mobile cart? Hot chocolate, coffee, maybe pastries… Free pictures with Sa nta would bring people here. We could make a few gift baskets for people to purchase as Christmas presents. With Thanksgiving over, consumers are shopping, and anyone who doesn’t already have a tree would want one.”

“It could work. Who would be Santa?”

“I don’t think I’d pull it off,” Amy laughs. “I could be a sexy elf, though.”

“I doubt Jasper would go for it, but I’d pay good money to see you dressed as a sexy elf.”

“What wouldn’t I go for?” Jasper grumbles, stalking over to us.

“Aces had a great idea, didn’t you?” Her eyes widen with a quick shake of her head. “We need to get bodies here. So, Jasper, you’re going to be Santa.”

“What?” He sputters a cough. “How is that a great idea?”

Amy straightens her posture and replies matter-of-factly, “Your Christmas tree farm is too dependent on seasonal sales. You missed the pre-Thanksgiving purchases, so now you need to adjust your marketing. and maybe even your product. If we do free Santa photos, it will bring in customers. A coffee cart would be great; people are more likely to stay and browse. For customers who already have a tree, we could sell other items here in the shop to make up for the lost revenue. A destination, not just a farm.”

“And where exactly would I find a Santa suit last minute?” Jasper quirks an eyebrow. “I’m not opposed to the idea, but?— ”

“I have one,” I offer. “Remember when we shot that Christmas calendar a few years ago with the other volunteer firefighters?”

Amy sucks in a breath. “You guys are firefighters?”

“Small towns, baby. Everyone helps everyone. Half of Coal’s Lake has proper certifications.” I shrug and drive it home with a sultry smirk. “I kept the Santa suit, but Jasper will need to wear something under it. It’s meant more for an after-hours lap sitting— if you know what I mean .”

Jasper shakes his head and groans. “It won’t work.”

“You don’t know unless you try,” Amy retorts, crossing her arms over her chest. “If you give it a shot, you’ll be no worse off than you are now.”

“Except my bruised ego.”

I stand from the register and dust off my pants. “Fine, I’ll do it. The suit looks better on me anyway. While I’m getting it, call Helly and Neil at the coffee shop.”

Jasper nods with a groan, pulling out his phone. As I walk out to my truck, there are quickened, heavy footsteps approaching from behind. Jasper stops me and offers to pick up the suit from my place, but I decline. Amy’s great with sales and marketing, and my hope is she can talk some sense into him if I’m gone.

And if we’re lucky, the grump will find the meaning of Christmas… or some shit.