Then he was there, sweeping her up in his arms. He kissed her well and good before setting her on the hay-couch. Like a clingy weirdo, she gripped his jacket within her hands, making it easier to press her face to his neck and breathe in the spicy citrus pine scent. It was better than any cologne. “You smell like my favorite tree, Prince.”
“Yeah, I did that on purpose. You didn’t fool me. I knew you were a sucker for Christmas tree pheromones.”
She laughed because what else could she do? He wasn’t wrong. She was the biggest sucker.
He brushed her hair, those hazel eyes taking their hold on her. “Hey, gorgeous. Did you have a nice evening yesterday?”
“Mm-hmm,” she responded, unzipping his jacket.
“Yeah, me too.” He shrugged from his coat, before his fingers went for hers, making quick work of it, pressing light kisses along her jawline.
“Oh, yeah? Were you with someone pretty?” The need to see him, to run her hand on heated skin, experience his broad chest again was consuming Natalie.
“Mm-hmm. I can’t stop thinking about how she feels and the little sounds she makes.”
“What? I don’t make sounds.”
He stopped, his eyes growing large, as though he’d been caught. “Oh…you thought I was talking about you?”
She pinched him. “Shut. Up.” Natalie giggled when Mason tackled her, sending her backwards onto the hay with him looming over her.
“We’re going to see about those sounds,” he said, undoing her jeans.
“Come on, I only have five minutes left of my break. Nothing is going to happen in five minutes.”
“So you’re challenging me?” He pushed her jeans down enough to give himself access to her underwear, sliding his hand under the fabric and between her legs. His lips pressed to hers in a hungry kiss and…
He was right.
She did make whimpering noises.
Also, five minutes was enough time.
Natalie’s head dropped as she clung to him, panting. His fingers slid against her. “Oh, God, Mas—”
The barn door yanked open. “No, Candy, it’s not all right and it is a big deal!” Stan’s voice echoed through the whole barn. Mason and Natalie froze inside their cow stall. Candy said something in response but not loud enough to understand the words.
“Oh,I’mthe diva?” Stan said. “Why? Just because I don’t want to be sharted on. I’m going to give that kid a gift all right. Santa’s bringing that kid a big pile of diapers. Then he’ll be crying.” There was a pause. “No, Candy, he did it on purpose. That kid had no respect for me. I saw it in his beady little blue eyes. Well, I don’t care how long the line is. Santa needs a break.”
The barn door slammed shut and Stan continued muttering to himself as he walked to his stall. “Damn kid farting on my Carson City silk velvet.”
Natalie pulled Mason closer to press her face into his chest because she was going to lose it. The more she had to keep quiet, to prevent revealing their hiding spot and compromised position, the harder it was to keep the laughter inside. A tremble went through Mason’s body as he too was trying to hold it together. He at least removed his hand from her underwear.
There was a large sniff. “Good God! I can still smell it! What is that kid eating? Gonna charge those parents for dry cleaning.”
Her snort was barely smothered in Mason’s shirt as a silent laugh shook her shoulders. This was definitely how she was going to die today. Although, what she should be worried about was how long they were going to be stuck in the barn because there was no way she was sneaking out under Stan’s nose. With Mason’s help, she pulled up her jeans and redid the fasteners just in case they were caught, because every time he made eye contact with her, she almost lost it again.
Luckily, they only had to hold their composure for five more minutes before Stan left while pumping himself up with words of self-affirmation. As soon as the barn door slammed shut, the dam on Mason’s and Natalie’s mirth broke. She’d never laughed so hard in her life, tugging him closer to support her before she collapsed to the ground. His eyes crinkled to slits, tears slipping through the cracks as his face turned red.
“Oh my God,” she said, wiping away her own tears. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at Stan’s face again without busting a gut after this.”
He plucked hay from her hair. “I better make sure everything is okay and he’s not continuing to have a meltdown out there.”
She was disappointed they weren’t going to continue with their previous activity but, logically, getting back in the mood after that wouldn’t be easy. They walked together toward the door, neither one in a hurry to return to work, and she clutched his arm for support in case the giggle fits took over again. “I better check to see if there’s a line waiting for me. Looks like break time is over.”
“There will always be more,” he said.
Her heart lit because perhaps he was right.
