He’d never spent that much time talking to any woman without sex as part of the equation. But how could she know that lengthy conversations weren’t part of his regular routine? He’d have to find a way to let her know that nothing about their “friendship,” or whatever you wanted to call it, was regular or routine for him.

The breakfast was, in fact, delicious, and he scored more points by offering to do the dishes while she showered. As he worked, he noticed the family photos on the refrigerator, zeroing in on the smiling dark-haired young man who looked so much like Erin, right down to the dimple in his cheek and the devilish look in his eyes. He had to be Toby, and seeing a picture of him for the first time, Slim ached for her loss.

She came down the spiral stairs a short time later with her hair in a ponytail, wearing a red wool sweater adorned with white snowflakes, and faded jeans, looking far more like a college co-ed than a thirty-eight-year-old woman. He’d been shocked when she’d once referred to herself as an old lady because she was in her late thirties. Before she told him her age, he would’ve guessed thirty at most. He was thirty-nine and amazed to be having genuine feelings for a woman for the first time since high school.

“Ready?” he asked, stashing his phone in his back pocket.

“Whenever you are.”

They took his truck to the Martinez Lawn & Garden retail store, where they spent half an hour picking out the perfect tree.

Jenny Martinez was working the cash register when they went inside to pay. “Hey, guys,” she said, clearly surprised to see him with Erin. “What brings you out on this freezing-cold day?”

Slim produced the price tag the guy working in the yard had given him. “Erin needed a Christmas tree.”

“Erin doesn’t do Christmas trees,” Jenny said with a questioning look for Erin.

Erin shrugged. “I guess I do this year.”

“Very interesting,” Jenny said with a grin for her friend.

Slim handed over three twenties for the tree.

“Hey, wait!” Erin said. “I want to chip in.”

“You can buy the lights. We also need a wreath and some of that red stuff over there.”

“The winterberry?” Jenny asked.

“Yeah, that. It’ll look good in a vase on the table, don’t you think, sweetheart?” He went over to pick out a bundle of sticks they didn’t really need—and gave her a chance to talk about him “behind his back.”

“Holy shit!” Jenny said in an exaggerated whisper. “What gives?”

“Not sure what you mean,” Erin said, though she knew exactly what her friend was getting at.

“You. Him. Buying a tree. Together. He called you sweetheart. Any questions?”