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“So, let me make sure I understand you right,” he said, grinning. “After I give Anna, Avril, and Victoriatheirpresents, when they wonder why there isn’t a fourth present of mine lying around anywhere, you want me to tell them I didn’t get you, the person I’ve known and lived beside for years, a present because of… which reasons, exactly?”
A rapid onset of color surged into Tess’s face. “That… is a very valid point.” Her lips pursed thoughtfully for a few moments. “I did see a set of candles with little wax cactuses in them. But they’re a bit expensive.”
“I’ll get them for you,” Liam immediately said. “I’ve got plenty of money to spend for the holidays.”
Tess smiled and brushed her lips against his again. “Thank you, Liam. Vanilla is my favorite scent, by the way.”
“Not whipped cream?”
Their third kiss lasted longer than the first two combined, lust crackling between them.
“No, not whipped cream,” she said, poking him in the ribs. “If such a candle even exists.”
“I’m sure it does, somewhere.”
Tess finally sat back up. “I’ll just stick with my vanilla scents, or pinewood if they’re out, thank you.” Her gaze trailblazed down his body until it found where his earlier surge of arousal had raised the covers. “And I’ll ensure I properly pay you back once everyone else heads home. For the party, just in case Victoria intends to follow my initial goal of a present-less party, I won’t give any gifts.”
“Do I get to make a request, or will it be a surprise?” Liam asked, pushing himself up to a seated position with his elbows.
“A surprise. I suspect you’ll enjoy it.”
Liam nodded, wholeheartedly believing the same thing. Still, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to wait the thirty-something hours until the party.
“What about today? If you’re right about how Avril shops, then I won’t be gone all that long.”
Tess’s mirth curved her luscious lips. “You’re welcome to keep making yourself at home here once you get back. And I’m sure we’ll find ways to make the twenty-third nearly as memorable as the twenty-fourth. But, for that to happen, you need to get out of bed. Avril won’t want to be kept waiting.”
“Sure,” Liam said, though his mind remained on a single track. “So… do you want to join me for my shower?”
Tess kept smiling as she stood and began making her way out of the bedroom. “I’ll make you breakfast. I’ll see you in a little while.”
Hopes dashed against the rocks, Liam’s consolation prize was the long, shapely legs and fantastic butt he admired as Tess, wearing nothing but a satin white bridesmaid robe, departed.
He spent just twenty minutes, half that time spent basking in memories from the day before in the shower, away from Tess. Afterward, having thrown on most of the layers he’d wear as he braved the elements on his march out of the neighborhood in a little while, pancakes—a devious reminder of the syrupy kiss he and Tess had shared yesterday, he suspected, and all that had transpired afterward—and a tall glass of orange juice waited downstairs for him.
After quickly scarfing them down, Tess didn’t let him leave until they’d replicated yesterday’s make-out session. He was stiff as iron underneath his heavy sweatpants when their lips parted. Still kissing, they gravitated toward her front door.
“I’ll see you soon,” Tess whispered once they reached the barrier between indoor heat and outdoor chill.
“Absolutely,” Liam promised.
As he opened the door, Tess, still quite scantily dressed, shivered as gelid air slithered up her long, bared legs. The gorgeous woman shivered and held herself with her arms. Liam hid a smile. He may have opened the door a bit more than was needed to see such a sight.
His penance, which he’d have had to suffer regardless, was an arduous journey through his winter wonderland—a hellscape for someone who dared to do more than admire it from inside the warmth of their home—of a neighborhood. Not much had changed since he’d walked this path with Anna yesterday. The snowplows still hadn’t come to rescue their streets from the blizzard’s aftermath, which meant Liam had to hoof it on foot out of his neighborhood.
Last time, he’d had a companion to chat with and, eventually, to engage in a brief but enjoyable snowball fight. For this trek, he had only thoughts and the piercingly chilly wind as accompaniment. And naturally, the latter ensured that it dominated the former.
I just hope she’s there when I arrive,Liam thought. While shoveling buttery pancakes and sticky syrup down his gullet at Tess’s, he’d spared a few meager seconds to text Avril about their plans to meet up. She’d let him know she’d gotten on her way when he was halfway through the pancake stack Tess had placed before him.
If he’d timed things right, he should arrive after her. After trudging his way to the base of the hill that led him out of his neighborhood and connected to a primary road thathadreceived clearing from the plows, he could do nothing but hope.
Eighty-six, eighty-seven, eighty-eight…
Liam found a brief respite from focusing on how damnably cold it was outside by counting—and stepping into—the very prints in the snow he’d created yesterday. Anna’s were beside his, though they eventually separated and grew erratic in size and spacing. Through them, he could see the history of their snowball fight inscribed upon the snow.
The chunks of snow missing near their footprints, snow that had become their ammunition. The long gouges in the white wonderland during their dodging and weaving tactics. And its eventual return to uniformity as they neared the hill’s crest following his surrender. Liam wore a smile of fond reminiscence as he left his neighborhood.
Blessedly, he had one reason to keep wearing it as he did.
