“What difference does it make?”
“Maybe it doesn’t make a difference to you, but what if it makes one to me?”
“You’re a sweet guy, Mase. You are. It’s just…all this isn’t going to make me different. Trust me, I’m not worth all this effort. I’m not going to turn around and suddenly discover the magical spirit of Christmas because of a few ornaments or be the bubbly person who wears frilly aprons and bakes sugar cookies that are actual shapes instead of whatever premade cookie dough I picked up at the grocery store.” She wasn’t sure any of this made a lick of sense in the existing conversation, but she got it off her chest anyway.
“I’m okay with that,” he replied with soothing patience. “I do the ornaments because it’s something I enjoy. And I’m fine being the one who wears the apron and bakes the cookies or decorates a tree because you hate Christmas.”
When did this become a negotiation? Did he not understand that their relationship would never reach that stage? “I don’t hate Christmas. I just don’t get swept away with all the tradition and shit. When you really think about it, Christmas is literally one day in the whole calendar and yet people somehow got it in their heads that it needs a whole damn season. You don’t think that’s weird? When you’re a kid, you get all excited and spend so long ticking down the days and number of sleeps and setting up all your expectations on Christmas dreams, and you completely forget that there’s the time after Christmas.”
“The time after?”
“After the sparkle of New Year fizzles, there’s just January. Cold, drab January where all you have are dried-out pine needles and that pristine snow has turned dirty and hard. The magic of the season is gone, and regular life is just the same as it always was, only now you don’t have something to count down to. So, there’s no point in putting in all the effort because the end result will be the same. The magic never lasts. We’ll throw out our Christmas trees, and—”
“And the nursery turns its eyes toward getting things ready for spring, a whole new kind of magic.”
“Mason,” she sighed with exasperation. Why didn’t he understand that this had nothing to do with Christmas? It was everything else that was hopeless.
“I’m not being facetious. I get what you’re saying. And I don’t see you as a person who needs to be changed. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. I just really like you, the person who’s obviously a little bit cynical and a glass-half-empty type of woman, but I like that. Most of all, I just really like how I feel when I’m around you. When I do get a smile, it’s like that momentary burst of sunlight between the winter clouds. I’ve become addicted to that. I also can’t help the way that I am, and I don’t think that needs to change either. Do you agree?”
Natalie considered his question. Would she want him to be more like her? She didn’t. To wish for him to be something different made her sad. “I guess. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m not going to do any of this with you anymore. It’s just too much for me and not what I want.”
“Okay,” he replied, making it sound as if he accepted her decision, but he didn’t move or let go of her hand or stop looking at her as if the thing he craved most was her lips.
“Okay,” she echoed, because she didn’t have another move either and was depending on him to turn his back and depart her office (and life) immediately. Natalie didn’t have it in her to push him away, mainly because of all those nice things he had said, like her smile being a sunburst. She couldn’t remember anyone saying something so authentically sweet to her before, certainly never any of the men she’d met in Lake Tahoe. Her hand on his chest tightened its grasp on his shirt.
He sensed her movement because his gaze dropped for a moment before rising to hers again. Suddenly, the thought of being abandoned in a room, less bright than it was before Mason entered, became unbearable. Like opposite magnets, their mouths crashed together. If she thought all he could do was the slow, tender type of kisses, she was quickly proven wrong. This kiss was different from the snow tube one. It was desperate and hungry and needy. With their bodies colliding, Natalie was pushed to her desk. With one hand, she swept her keyboard and paperwork aside. His grip on her thighs lifted her onto the desk, her head bumping against the closed shelf doors above her workstation. She couldn’t stop herself from wrapping her limbs around him, hugging him closer.
“See?” she said between breaths. “This is all way too much.”
His hands were trailing across her body. “You seem to be handling it okay.”
“Sure, now, but what about later?”
“I plan on being there,” he murmured against her lips.
The kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping into her mouth before he bit gently on her lip. Maybe there was a bit of villainy in Mason after all, some spice along with the sweetness.
“Mmm. You taste like peppermint,” he said.
Everything was melting inside Natalie, like one of the hard candies she’d eaten earlier. Her grip on him became necessary to keep herself from sliding off her desk into a heap. She moaned while scraping her fingers along the short hairs at the nape of his neck before they trailed to his bearded jawline. The prickling beneath the sensitive pads of her fingertips was delicious. The thought of the same sensation all over her skin had the potential to undo her.
Her prayers were answered when his kisses moved to her neck, his fingers tugging on her work T-shirt, untucking the hem. “Your office door locks, right?” he asked.
“Uh-huh, just…turn the…the thing.” Words were becoming difficult to recall.
He stretched to lock the door before resuming his attention on her. “I just want to touch you.”
“Yes.” She tugged him, encouraging him closer. Whatever he was giving she needed more. Natalie was a stick of dynamite ready to go off as warmth flushed across her skin. She’d never so much as had a heated conversation in the tiny office before, let alone tried to manage something this physical. The logical side of her brain had vacated her head and the part wanting pleasure took over. She allowed him to pull the T-shirt off.
“You’re so soft,” he said. The prickling sensation mixed with gentle open-mouth kisses dragged across one shoulder before moving to the other one. She shivered in response. “You’re right. This is almost too much.” It was almost hard to believe that this mountain of a man could be gentle, but he was. As he continued kissing her, one hand slid to palm one bra-clad breast. It probably felt like a molehill in his large hand but he didn’t seem to care and neither did she. Her own hands had been busy undoing the top buttons of his flannel shirt, her fingers slipping inside to brush along heated skin and the soft strands of chest hair. Her desire ramped up. Natalie loved chest hair.
He pushed closer, and she wrapped her legs around him, his hardness pressing into her. She pressed right back. Her only thought was to drive him wild, wanting to see him go off.
“You have no idea how hard this is.”
She laughed. “I have some idea.”
He gave her a wicked smile before kissing her lips once again. Never before had a kiss felt as easy to slip into, as though she’d been kissing him all her life and yet the newness of it was there to thrill her. It felt so good she couldn’t help but moan into it, wondering how far she could push this at work.
“Yeah, I’m going to see her.” Mia’s voice reached her ears and it was close. Too close. Like she was just on the other side of the wall, a wall Natalie shared with Mia’s husband’s office.
Oh God. What was she doing?
