Page 46 of The Mistletoe Mix-up

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam asked, worry etched into the lines around his eyes.

“I’m amazing,” she said, smiling at him as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I do have one beef though.”

“What’s that?”

“You’re doing way too much talking when we ought to be fucking.”

“I can fix that,” Sam said, picking her up with him and carrying her into the bedroom. He tossed her onto the mattress and pulled a condom from the side table, slipping it over his cock. Sam climbed up her body, her curves molding into him, familiar but different at the same time.

He slipped inside her easily, and she wrapped her legs around him, her arms holding on to his shoulders as he moved faster, faster, bucking against her, pushing deeper with every stroke, making her cry out with every press forward. Then he leaned up on his arms, staring down at her as he pistoned her with his cock. Although his face was leaner with more fine lines, Wren could still see that eighteen-year-old boy he used to be smiling down at her.

He changed his movements, and something about the way his hips swirled made her grasp for whatever she could, and that ended up being his arms, as she cried out, “Right there, right there, yes yes yes, fuck yes!”

Sam continued to circle his hips and thrust until she was flying again, soaring through the air in an out-of-body experience where she watched him continue to pump into her as he came, his mouth buried in her neck as his chest heaved against hers.

Wren took a deep breath, soft laughter escaping. She felt incredible, all the tension leached out of her by the amazing sex.

“They should bottle you up and prescribe you for tension,” Wren murmured.

Sam lifted himself up and grinned. “Oh yeah?”

“Absolutely.” She ran her hands over him, adding softly, “You certainly have learned a thing or two.”

“Or maybe your body missed me.” Before she could respond, he kissed her swiftly and hopped off the bed. “I’ll be right back.”

Sam headed into the bathroom while she lay there in his bed, thinking about how good it was with him. She rolled onto her side, her eyes so heavy she barely noted when he came back to the bed, snuggling against her back with his arm around her waist.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

Wren’s eyes popped open at those sweet words, and panic formed in her chest. Their connection was too much, too fast, and she was afraid he thought that there was something more between them. How would she tell him that’s not what she wanted?

Once Sam started snoring, Wren got dressed and slipped out, checking her phone. Pete had texted an apology full of excuses, but she was still pissed at her brother. She climbed into her car and took off for home, wondering if Sam would wake up before morning and realize she was gone.

Wren really hoped not, and when he did wake up, she prayed he would realize this was for the best.

Chapter Fourteen

Wren took the mile-long gravel road up the mountain to her father’s retirement cabin. It was a two-thousand-square-foot cabin with a primary suite, a kitchen, dining room area, living room area, and loft. It was essentially his man cave. He’d sold the home all his children grew up in to his oldest son, Luke, when he got married, and then he’d bought this place. The old hunter’s shack that had been the original home on the property sat off to the left with a little outhouse next door her dad had turned into a shop where he tinkered and worked on things all day.

Wren couldn’t blame her dad for wanting solitude after so many years of listening to other people’s bellyaching, but as he was pushing seventy, she thought about the safety issues of him being up here all by himself. Cell service was an issue, as was the road when it snowed, but her father said he’d just use his quad and plow down the road when he needed to. Wren’s fear was that if an ambulance and paramedics had to get up the hill after a bad storm, he would be out of luck.

Robert Little didn’t want to hear these things, though, and she didn’t feel it was her place to say anything. Instead, Wren usually went to Luke, Pete, or Garrett with her concerns and let them say something.

Wren parked next to her brother Garrett’s truck. He was the tech guy for the Mistletoe School District. Anything went down, he was the one they called.

“You ready, Duke?” Wren opened the door, and the big dog followed her across the seats, trailing beside her up the walkway.

On her way toward the front door, it flew open, and a strawberry blond toddler raced outside, screaming her name. “Wen!”

Her nephew, Lukas, launched himself off the top step and into her arms. Wren gave him a big hug, swinging his legs back and forth. Duke jumped around them, barking excitedly until Wren said, “Quiet.”

“Hey, big guy! What are you doing?”

“Keeping his dad and mom on their toes,” a sweet voice said from the doorway. Wren looked up and met Elizabeth Little’s blue eyes. Elizabeth stood in the doorway, her pregnant belly leading the way. She was a year younger than Wren with honey blond hair and delicate features.

When her brother had decided to get married, he’d gone all in finding a great girl. She’d given him a picture-perfect replica of himself, with his mother’s sweet disposition. They planned on at least two more after this pregnancy, and Elizabeth had quit her job to stay home and raise their kids. She seemed happy enough, but Wren thought her brother took Elizabeth for granted.

“He’s just preparing you for when the new little one gets here and you have double the trouble,” Wren teased.