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She arches a brow. “Clearly you have never heard of a Whomping Willow.”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“Don’t tell me you haven’t read Harry Potter.
”
“Why not?” I manage to right the tree and prop it in the corner again.
“Because then I won’t know if we can become friends.”
I give her a look over my shoulder. “Is that what we’re doing tonight? Becoming friends?”
“Of course. What else would we be doing?” Harlow pushes her glasses up her nose and gives me her best innocent little lamb face, all the while standing there in those fucking tiny little shorts.
I’m not sure she’s wearing a bra either. If she is, it isn’t doing much to hide the fact that her nipples are hard. It’s hell trying not to stare at her chest.
I slip out of my suit jacket, tossing it on the couch. “Well, my friend, why don’t you help me get this tree in the stand? Maybe all it wants is a permanent home. Some nice decorations. A drink of water.”
“I have to water the tree?”
“Yes, Harlow. You do.” Shaking my head, I grab the box with the stand in it from the drugstore bag. “It’s a good thing I’m here.”
“I’ll drink to that,” she says, picking up her mug again and taking a sip. “Okay, tell me what to do to help.”
We manage to get the tree into the stand, the bolts secured, and some water in the base. Harlow doesn’t have a tree skirt, but she does have a red fleece blanket she drapes around the base of the tree, and once it’s in place, she stands back and claps her hands. “I love it! Let’s decorate!”
I glance out the window. The snow is falling even heavier now, and if I stay even one more minute, I will never make it to my sister’s house. She’ll make me pay too—my entire family will. Nobody can work a guilt trip like my mother, and my sister can hold onto a grudge like it’s keeping her alive. They have the ability to make my life very unpleasant.
But when I look at Harlow again, she’s standing on tiptoe to hang an ornament high up on the tree, her bare legs beckoning. My cock stirs again in my pants.
Yeah, fuck my family Christmas. There’s something I want to unwrap right here.
“Hey, I need to make a phone call real quick,” I tell her.
“No problem. You can use my room if you’d like privacy,” she offers, pointing to a door off the living room.
“Thanks. I’ll be right out.” I head into her bedroom and shut the door behind me.
Curious, I take a moment to look around her room before I make the call. It’s feminine and neat, no surprise there. Pink, black, and white bedding. A million decorative pillows perfectly placed. One nightstand stacked with books, the other holding only a lamp, which is on. I lower myself to a bench at the foot of her bed and call my sister.
“Hello?” She already sounds peeved.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Let me guess—you’re not coming.”
“Laura, the weather’s terrible! I can’t drive in this.”
“How convenient.”
“Look, I wanted to come this year. I really did.”
“It’s like you knew I was planning to set you up tonight!”
“Set me up?” I frown. “With who?”
“I forget her name. She’s a friend of Reid Fortino’s fiancée.”
