Even to me, it’s easy to see which one is the best growing tip. I don’t need the support, but his hands splay across my back as I lean up with one knife to hold the top sprig aside, and I bring the other knife up to slash the smaller ones away.

‘Yeah!’ He lets out a whoop. ‘Congratulations, you’ve successfully pruned your first tree!’

I cheer too and turn around in his embrace, expecting him to move, but he doesn’t and his lips are right there in front of mine. I feel him swallow and his arms tighten around me. ‘See, it’s easy really.’

I’m starting to think that running a marathon might be easy if I had his arms around me. And that I might agree to something that crazy if his cologne blocked out all my other senses.

I feel completely lost in his arms. Our mouths are barely a breath away from touching, and when he wets his lips with his tongue, we’re so close that I can feel the heat from it. His stubble is rough against my face, his hair tickling my neck, and his hands tighten where they’re still holding onto mine, and we stand still, neither of us daring to move for a long few seconds.

He suddenly swivels his head towards the tree, his chin pressing so tightly against my shoulder than I can feel the little cleft in it. ‘Only another 5999 to go.’

His words are abrupt, and I expect him to do his usual thing of jumping away and putting as much distance between us as possible, so I’m surprised when he doesn’t move. Instead, he stays where he is, his arms around me from behind so I’m sort of leaning back against him. There’s a giant knife somewhere that we shouldn’t lose track of, but none of it seems to matter as I stand here in his arms looking at the tree we’ve sheared together.

He rests the side of his head against mine and I know he’s lingering this time, and I wonder if he really needed to show me that way or if he wanted an excuse to stand close. It makes another shiver go through me as I try not to think about what it means if he does.

Like he can sense what I’m thinking, this time he jumps and takes a step back. ‘Sorry. Trees release pheromones when they’re cut, I think they’re getting to me.’

‘Yeah, me too,’ I murmur. Because I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking in getting this close to Noel or wanting to kiss him quite this badly. The last thing I need at the moment is a relationship, particularly with someone who so plainly isn’t interested either.

‘Go on then, try one,’ he says before I can think anything else about it.