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“Ladies,” he says. “Why do I feel like you two are causing trouble over here?”
“Us? Trouble? Never,” I say. “Did you give up on ice skating?”
“It’s a lot more fun when you’re there.” He grins and tips his head toward the bar. “Want a drink?”
Maggie squeezes my thigh. “I’m going to check on Aiden,” she says, and I know she’s leaving us alone on purpose. “Have fun.”
“Did I say something wrong?” Shawn asks, taking the empty seat beside me.
“No. We were catching up on some things. Problem solving, if you will,” I say.
“Did you solve all the problems you had?”
I look into his eyes, and under the light of the moon and the fairy lights hanging from the rafters of the open-air pavilion, they look grayer than normal. Like something I could get lost in if I didn’t glance away.
“Yeah. I think we did.”
“Anything I can help with?” he asks, and I shake my head.
Not unless you want to fuck me in a gingerbread house at a Christmas tree farm.
“Nope,” I say, and I can tell my voice is strained. “All good.”
“You’re such a shitty liar,” Shawn says, and his thigh presses into mine. “Remind me to never ask you to cover for me if I need help hiding a body or something.”
“Yes, because the man who tips really well is definitely going to find himself involved with a murder cover up,” I joke. “Hey. Are we doing Christmas presents? Should I get something for your parents and sisters?”
“We give each person a gift, and then my nieces have a shit ton of things to open on Christmas morning. Don’t feel obligated to bring anything, though.”
“You spoil the shit out of those girls, don’t you?” I ask, and Shawn gives me a bashful smile.
“Guilty. They’re still at the age where they like toys like Play-Doh and Barbie dolls. I’ve known Maven since she was born, and it’s been weird to watch her go from playing with Legos to buying makeup and getting her driver’s license. I never feel old until I look at the people around me and see how much they’ve grown up.”
“Then you feel ancient?”
Shawn wraps his arm around me and tickles my side. I squeal and swat at his shoulder, trying to push him away. He’s too big, a solid mass I don’t stand a chance of moving. One of my hands ends up on his thigh and the other ends up on his stomach, just above the waistband of his jeans.
My laughter dies in my throat.
Shawn is such aman, with firm lines and taut muscles.
I’ve never been with someone who has such a physical presence before. Who could pick me up, toss me over his shoulder and not break a sweat. He’s carved from the finest marble, the muse for every great Renaissance artist’s depiction of the perfect male form.
God, I want to be under him. On top of him. Stretched out in his bed with the sheets around us as he took his time with me and learned my body in the most intimate ways.
“Lacey girl,” he whispers.
I love when he calls me that.
His fingers trace my jaw and fan out across my sternum. It’s the same spot he touched when he kissed me at the game, a frenzied search for bare skin that left me feeling dizzy and lightheaded.
I feel the same way now.
I lift my chin, and it’s an invitation for him to kiss me if he wanted to. A door to open to make this somethingmorethan a pretend relationship. Shawn’s eyes bounce to my mouth, and I think he’s considering it. His lips part, and he sucks in a sharp breath. He leans in closer, and his nose brushes against mine.
How is he this warm? It’s thirty degrees outside, and he’s keeping me from shivering. I can feel the heat from his hand over the fabric of my sweater, and I want to feel that heat everywhere.
Fuck. Okay. Are we doing this?
