Five minutes later, with the crackling sound of the fire in the hearth being drowned out by the painful strains of the Chipmunks singing “All I Want For Christmas,” everyone was gathered around the tree. Grady and Albie were dealing with the lights he’d apparently bought. Which was utterly ridiculous. Leaving aside the fact that he didn’t do Christmas, if he did, there was no way, in normal circumstances, he’d wrap a highly flammable product like a tree in what probably added up to the electrical equivalent of a small substation.

But these weren’t normal circumstances. They were pretty fucking unusual circumstances, and he was playing a role. A role apparently requiring a Christmas tree that could be seen in fucking Australia.

In fake-rancher-boyfriend world, Christmas wasn’t Christmas unless people on the other side of the planet could admire your handiwork.

“I have to admit,” Simone said as she sipped on her eggnog, “the smell of this tree is pretty incredible.”

“I know, right?” Suzanne said. “I think you should get a real one next year. Ditch that terrible wire thing.”

“Oh, but darling, the pine needles make such a mess.”

Grady had always thought that was one of the dumbest reasons not to have a real tree. He couldn’t believe there were people out there who were so precious about spotlessness that they couldn’t cope with a week or two of needle drop. Every year his parents had driven out to a tree farm and bought a freshly cut tree, and the smell of it in the back of their car was one of the most visceral memories of his childhood.

Just standing here now, smelling the tree, took him back to those times.

Which was why he avoided Christmas. The memories. He braced himself for the familiar pinch of pain, grief, and regret. And the even more visceral well of anger. He’d been robbed of so many tree-trimming events. Surprisingly, nothing came, just a slight bittersweet twist of nostalgia.

“I figure that’ll do it,” Albie said as he placed the last string of lights. “Turn ’em on, Grady.”

Half expecting to be electrocuted, Grady plugged in the power cord. He swore he heard a low hum as the lights flickered on in a sudden burst of color.

Simone took a step back, her eyed widening, her hand fluttering near her chest as she said, “Oh my, that is…well lit.”

Albie nodded, looking a little dazzled himself. “Very…bright.”

“It’s…beautiful,” Suzanne announced with a hushed kind of reverence.

Grady glanced at her, at the glow of color on her face as she stared at the tree with the kind of wonder usually reserved for kids. And, if he wasn’t very much mistaken, tears shimmered in her eyes.