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“Too sleepy.”
“We’ve got to get you inside.” He took up her dangling hand, the one with the crooked fingers. He wanted to kiss each one. Instead he gently pulled, thinking to help her sit up.
“Can’t. Move. So tired.”
“If you can’t go on your own, I’m going to have to carry you.”
“’S okay.”
He didn’t know whether that meant it was okay to carry her or she was okay with sleeping outside, but there was only one acceptable option. Not because he’d wanted to touch her since she’d first sat beside him on the boulder at the rock pool. Longer, if he was honest—since he’d woken up to her in his kitchen. Maybe even before that. He’d spent the afternoon pushing away thoughts of all the things he could’ve done instead of swimming away from her. None of those fantasies compared to the reality of the smooth skin on the backs of her well-muscled thighs as he slid one arm beneath them, while the other grazed her bare shoulders.
As soon as he had her in his arms, hers went around his neck and she curled herself closer to him. “Mmmm. You smell nice for a Grinch.”
“Not a Grinch, Christmas Girl. Look.”
Her eyes fluttered partially open again, then went wide when she saw what he’d done. “Oh! You hung them! I knew they’d look good on those eaves.”
While she’d slept, he’d strung the Christmas lights that kept falling out of her car. It was the most festive thing he’d done since he was kid.
“I love them!” Her grip tightened and she brushed her lips across his cheek. Her touch was as electric as the string of lights. “Second day of Christmas achieved! Thank you, Santa!” He had no idea what that even meant, and if she hadn’t been so out of it, he would have kissed her back, need a deep ache inside him, everywhere she touched him super-heated. But he wasn’t going to do anything when she was more than half asleep. If he ever got the chance to kiss her, really kiss her, he wanted her to want it. No. He wanted her torememberit. The thought scared the hell out of him.
DECK THE HALLS
DECEMBER 15
With one arm, Lena clamped the Christmas tree box against her side, and with the other she dragged one of her big suitcases through the door, closing it with a gentle kick that left her off-balance.
To his credit, Heath jumped up immediately from where he sat at the kitchen counter and came to help her with the luggage. “Where do you want it?”
“Depends. Was that a dream I had, or did you agree to celebrate Christmas?” Lena had waited all through breakfast for Heath to bring it up, and he hadn’t. He also hadn’t acknowledged that she’d kissed him. Just a kiss on the cheek, but still: she’d done it. But waiting was not her strong suit—never mind how her impatience had turned out with Zach—and she wasn’t good at sitting around. She was used to riding eleven or twelve horses a day, six days a week, and she’d been sidelined for almost two weeks. She needed something todo.
She’d been emboldened by sleep and the chat thread she’d had with Carissa all morning, which had ended with
Why not! GET IT, GRRRL!
She’d already kissed Heath— a chaste kiss on the cheek, but a kiss no less. Via text message, she and Carissa had painstakingly dissected the meaning of the zing that had gone through her when her lips had brushed the stubble of his cheek. That electricity was what had convinced her to hold him to what he’d said the night before. Because whatever gap she’d made in the walls Heath had built around himself, it had been patched up overnight. Heath was acting the way he had after that moment on the rock—closed off and like he was going to bolt any second. He obviously wasn’t going to bring their agreement up himself. She couldn’t stand the suspense any longer. “Well? Did you say you’d celebrate Christmas with me or not?”
“Thought maybe you didn’t remember.” He heaved a sigh. “Was hoping you’d forget to be honest.”
“Well, I didn’t. And this”—she waved her hand in a gesture meant to encompass the entire living room—“is lovely, but it’s not at all festive. What we need is a Christmas tree. Which I just happened to have in my car.” She was feeling bold and bossy and she was running with it. She held out the box with the fake tree in it and beamed a smile at him. She’d tell him what was in the suitcase later.
“No.”
“What do you mean, no? How do you celebrate Christmas without a tree?” She was taking a stand. Which meant her hands went straight to her hips and the suitcase fell to the floor with a loud clatter that made Copper leap to his feet with a bark.
“That thing is not a tree.”
Truth be told, she’d wondered about the wisdom of using the Christmas tree she’d bought to surprise Zach. It probably had bad vibes attached to it. “I hate for it to go to waste…”
“I’ll take care of it.” Heath snapped the tree box out from under her arm and clomped out of the house. A moment later, an engine roared to life. She hurried to the window and watched as he pulled out of the driveway, wondering if she’d made a big mistake. But in for a penny, in for a pound. Plus: what did she have to lose? Exactly nothing.
* * *
She was practically jumpingout of her skin by the time she spotted the cloud of dust rising off the dirt road.
While Heath had been gone, she’d been busy. Maybe she couldn’t do the Twelve Days of Christmas scheme she’d planned out as part of her surprise for Zach, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t repurpose the stuff she’d brought and make Heath’s place more merry. Only now she was having second thoughts. It was too much. She’d gone too far. Heath already leaned hard towardsGrinch, and what she’d done might just push him over the edge and make him send her packing… which would be a lot more complicated, given how much she’d unpacked. Though he kept surprising her. The hike to the abandoned farm and the rock pool for starters. The Christmas lights he’d strung up. His invitation to celebrate the holidays. Heck, his original invitation to stay the night. Maybe there wasn’t a chatterbox of a man hidden behind the silence and monosyllabic answers, but there was a good heart behind the walls Heath had constructed. The guy just needed to lighten up, which she was one hundred percent qualified to help him with.
She surveyed what she’d done as tyres crunched on the gravel outside. “It’s festive all right, eh, Coppy? Let’s hope he likes it.” She crossed her fingers on both her hands and flashed them at Copper, as if he’d know exactly what they meant.
