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“God, I fucking missed you,” I murmured into his neck. I took the opportunity to kiss and suck on it a little before nipping it hard enough to leave a mark. He yelped and pulled away.
“Fiend. Is that any way to treat the man who just closed tens of thousands of dollars in new business for you?”
I pulled back and stared. “They signed?”
He nodded proudly. “They did indeed. We owe Seamus a nice bottle of wine for introducing me to his old neighbor. I can’t believe he was able to get me in with this group. But I’ll tell you more about it after I change clothes. Oh, and maybe we can reheat one of the twelve Partridge family casseroles we stocked up on at the Stuffin’ last week? I’ve been craving sausage for days.”
“Behave.” I smacked Charlie’s ass just to hear him laugh.
I called over my shoulder to ask Larry to close up for me before grabbing one of Charlie’s bags in one hand and one of his hands in the other and starting the walk down the drive toward our house.
“Casserole’s already thawing, thank you very much,” I said smugly. “Musta read your mind.”
“Musta had your own craving, more like,” he said with a chuckle. “Before I forget, you have to help me figure out how to talk to Amos about the cow messages. It’s getting out of control.”
I groaned. “I’m guessing it didn’t say LICKING THICKET CHRISTMAS FESTIVAL?”
“How about TICKLE FETISHES V THICK ARM? I don’t mean to kink shame anyone, but…”
I smacked Charlie’s… thick arm. “Just be glad we talked him out of using his cows to market our poinsettias because that would have been a phallic disaster.”
“Speaking of the Christmas Festival… wait. Why doesn’t it have a Licking Thicket name like the Wrappin’ or the Carolin’ or the… I dunno, Birthin’?”
“’Cause, baby…” I frowned at him seriously, trying hard to keep a straight face. “Those names would be silly.”
He gaped at me for a long moment before realizing I was teasing, and then he hip-checked me nearly off the path. “One of these days, I’m going to stop falling for it, Hunter Jackson.”
I laughed into the cold chill of encroaching dusk as our house appeared ahead of us through the trees and wrapped my arm securely around his waist. “I sincerely hope you never stop falling for me, Charlton Nutter.”
Charlie let out a sigh and leaned his shoulder into mine as we continued to move forward together.
“Home sweet home,” he murmured. “I fucking love this place.”
As we climbed the porch steps to the front door, I marveled at how far we’d come in a year. It hadn’t all been smooth sailing. In fact, it had taken Charlie so long to extricate himself from his job in Chicago I’d begun to think I was going to have to stage a rescue operation. But by Christmas, he’d been back in town, and by Valentine’s Day, he’d been spending every night at my place. It wasn’t until Memorial Day in May that he’d finally agreed to move in with me and stop pretending to live in the apartment above his cousin’s garage.
He put down his bag in our entryway, pushed the door closed, and pulled me fully into his arms. The solid weight of him anchored me in every possible way.
“I started to ask you about the festival,” he murmured against my chest. “We going?”
Pfft. Like this was an actual question.
Still, I pretended to think about it. “I dunno. Ava Siegel’s newest kidlet is playing baby Jesus in the live nativity. Last year, the town lost the baby Jesus—thankfully, played by Wattle, Diesel and Parrish’s turkey—for a full forty-five minutes when he wandered off during a set change, which makes the use of a real live baby a smidge risky, despite Ava’s assurances that there are plenty more Siegels where that one came from. My mother says there will never be another baby so well protected in all their lives, but it sounds to me like that’s code for every busybody in the Thicket showing up to be ready when the drama begins.”
“Can’t wait.” He leaned in and kissed my neck in all my favorite places. “What else did I miss while I was gone?”
“It’s only been two days,” I said with a grin, enjoying every minute of his tongue’s attention.
“Longest two days of my life.”
I began unbuttoning his jacket. “Oh, you missed Red Johnson changing the town population sign by one.”
Charlie lifted his head up. “Oh yeah. Who moved in?”
“My friend Lane. You knew that.”
He leaned in to kiss the base of my throat. “He’s been here six months already.”
“But the sign doesn’t change until there is a signed lease or an official real estate transaction of some kind.”
Charlie snorted, soft, warm air blowing into my neck. “Jaybird Proud needs to start requiring paperwork even if he’s not going to charge rent.”
