“I think the nightgown is for the best,” she whispered, hands in Alix’s hair.
“Why’s that?” Alix’s hand was electric where it followed the curve of Grace’s hip.
“Where do you think all of my underwear is?”
Alix’s hand stopped moving, but the stillness was even more intense than her touch. Alix let out a sound that was somewhere between a curse and a groan.
“Grace,” Alix breathed in a voice so pained, it rocked Grace’s body with another pang of desire. She shifted, rolling them so Grace was on her back and Alix was hovering over her, lips and body so tempting. “You cannot say things like that to me right now.”
Grace should have said good night and gotten into her own bed, but she parted her legs so Alix’s hips slipped between them instead, nightgown riding up her thighs. Alix’s hips instinctively rocked forward, a slow, deliberate press against Grace that sent a bolt of molten heat straight through her. Grace arched into it, a desperate, silent plea for more.
A voice boomed in their room like Susan was standing at the open door. “Steve, have you seen my melatonin? You know I won’t sleep without it! It’s bad enough that I…” Her voice trailed away.
They froze while the footsteps grew fainter and a door closed somewhere in the hallway. Alix was going to return to their kiss, but Grace put her hand on her cheek.
“If we can hear them?—”
“Then they can hear us,” Alix agreed, finishing Grace’s thought with a resigned sigh. She collapsed onto Grace, burying her face in the crook of her neck with a groan of profound frustration. “Yeah…” she mumbled into Grace’s skin.
For a long moment, they just lay there, breathing each other in, the frantic energy slowly bleeding out into a painful ache. Alix pushed herself up onto her elbows, her eyes dark with regret.
“Okay,” she said, her voice raspy. “Okay. New plan.” Her gaze flickered down, then back up to Grace’s eyes. “My hands are quiet.”
The offer was raw, desperate, and so tempting that it made Grace’s stomach clench. A simple, physical release. It would be so easy. But it wasn’t what Grace wanted. Or rather not how she wanted it.
She reached up, thumb stroking Alix’s jaw when she cupped her face. She didn’t know how to say what she meant without sounding dramatic, but she didn’t want the first time she had Alix like this to be so quiet. To be in the dark. To be a secret in any way.
“I want this,” Grace confessed, hand skimming Alix’s throat and stopping at her chest where her heart beat wildly against Grace’s palm. Where it matched the same frantic rhythm of her pulse. “I want you in every way you want to give yourself to me, and I don’t want to be quiet about it.”
In the low light, Alix’s slow, beautiful smile was barely visible. But even if Grace couldn’t see it clearly, she felt it like the sun warming her skin.
“We’ll have time. I promise. We’ll make time.” Alix leaned in again, but when she kissed her this time, it was a deep, soul-shattering kiss that promised a thousand future moments without restraint. And then they lay there, tangled in each other, sharing the exquisite agony of unsated desire.
When Alix reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers, something other than lust roared to life. The gentle touch had triggered every survival instinct, but for the first time in a long time, the desire to know what came next was infinitely stronger than the fear of getting hurt. She squeezed Alix’s hands, and the disaster scenarios stopped their targeted assault.
Chapter Twenty-Four
ALIX
The driveinto town felt like a secret. The world outside had gone downy and white, the roads lined with snowdrifts that caught the glow of headlights and Christmas lights alike. Grace cradled a travel mug of hot cocoa in her hands, steam curling up toward the windshield. The radio hummed low, Mariah Carey crooningtheholiday anthem. Christmas light drives were one of Alix’s favorite Christmas traditions. She’d grown up with them, had even wrangled Phyllis into it a few times.
They’d had a quiet day, taking a long outdoor walk around Alix’s old haunts near the house. Alix had tried to get Grace on one of the horses, but Grace hadn’t been so keen on the idea, so Alix hadn’t pressed it. They’d have time. They’d be back, someday.
They’d spent an hour or so helping Helen prep Christmas dinner, then spent most of the afternoon lazing around the living room with the rest of the family watchingElf, which was Alix’s favorite, andThe Grinch, Grace’s favorite. Helen had demandedThe Holiday, which was Alix’s secret second favorite, not thatshe’d ever admit to being such a softie in front of anyone but Grace.
After dinner, Alix had the grand idea of driving around to look at Christmas lights, and the parents had gratefully shooed them out so they could play Hand and Foot in peace.
“Confession,” Alix said, one hand on the wheel, the other sneaking across the center console until it brushed Grace’s. “I used to think this song was about unrequited love. Like, tragic torch-song energy.”
Grace smiled, turning their hands palm to palm, their fingers fitting together like the last piece of a puzzle. “And now?”
“Now I think it’s about manifesting.” Alix glanced over, grinning. “You just sing it loud enough, and the universe delivers. Voila, Christmas.”
“Dangerous philosophy,” Grace teased, but her thumb stroked the back of Alix’s hand in lazy circles that made it impossible to focus on the road.
They drove through Old Town Fort Collins, where every tree was wrapped in lights and every storefront glowed in warm yellows, blinking reds, the occasional stubborn strand of blue. The Ace Hardware store had a blow-up Santa wrestling a reindeer, and the Mugs sign blinked OPEN in time with the music.
They sipped cocoa, their fingers still twined between them, the hum of the heater and the Christmas playlist wrapping the truck in something that felt dangerously close to peace.
