Lucas 3
I walked into Laughing Goat to grab a quick cup of coffee, almost running into Ethan on his way out, hoping for a few minutes of quiet, so I could pin down a few new fitness techniques I would teach next week on my YouTube channel, when I spotted Merry, the woman I’d kissed last night.
“Yeah, she’s in there,” Ethan said as we passed. “Beware, she’s addictive.”
I sniggered. “Yeah, thanks. See you in a few.”
“Yep. Thanks again,” he said and jogged across the street to the square where folks were busy blowing the snow away from the paths and getting things set up for tomorrow.
I’d be helping Ethan very soon, but first coffee and a breakfast burrito.
I had a couple million followers for my fitness videos. It had taken me a few years to build up a strong following of subscribers, and I appreciated every single one of them. No way would I ever do anything to jeopardize what I worked so hard to create. I tried to give my followers new information on a weekly basis. If it wasn’t some fun new exercise, it was a simple technique to help build strength and muscle.
When I combined the videos with my private Zoom workouts and my fitness mindset workshops, I made a damn good living, and I never had to leave home. Well… hardly ever. Sometimes I’d be on a stage with another mindset speaker, and those were both lucrative and fun. I loved meeting the folks who followed me, along with finding new followers. Mostly, I made my videos from either the rooftop or from my well-equipped apartment.
Life was good… at least that part of my life.
Other things… like any kind of a love and sex life… not so much. It had been so long since I’d had sex with a woman that I sometimes wondered if I even remembered how.
Which brought me back to that fucking kiss.
So, yes, it was a great kiss. And amazing kiss. Epic, even. One I hadn’t expected, but she was way too cheery for my tastes. I liked a more serious woman. A woman who knew how life could turn to shit on a dime. Not someone who loved a holiday I had come to dread. When I was a kid, one of Cricket’s many floods not only destroyed everything my family owned, including our house, three days before Christmas, but it separated us from the time I was ten until I was sixteen. My sister went to live with my father’s parents three thousand miles away, while I went to live with my uncle and aunt who never celebrated Christmas, and my older brother went away to school, then enlisted in the Army as soon as he turned eighteen. My parents ended up getting a divorce. We never recovered, and even though we tried to celebrate the holiday when I turned eighteen, my sister was twenty, and my brother was twenty-eight and home from Iraq for the holidays, none of us really tried. My brother was killed in a battle not long after that.
Nothing was ever right after he died. We all just drifted apart, with barely a connection. Even when our mom died last year, my sister didn’t even make it to the funeral. Said she couldn’t handle the sadness.
So, no, I’m not too fond of the holiday or the music that goes with it.
Okay, so maybe Merry kissed way better than I’d expected, but when you haven’t been kissed in a while, almost any kiss will do. And Merry’s joy seemed genuine, like all this happy shit truly was part of her character, unlike my sister or father’s total facade.
Still, I wasn’t about to go back to that little kid who believed in all the magic that Christmas had to offer. I was all grown up now and knew better.
No way was I going anywhere near that kind of hurt ever again. I’d buried all that Christmas bullshit a long time ago and had no intention of ever digging it back up.
“Hey, Lucas,” Merry said, causing my insides to melt, as she looked up from a table in the front of the place.
What the fuck?
“Yeah, hi,” I said. I couldn’t be rude, even though I wanted to be. “How’s it going?”
“Good. Real good. Thanks. What’s going on in the square today?” she asked, gazing out from the shop windows.
Why did she have to be so pretty and so bubbly? Couldn’t she be pretty and a complete grump? Now that would be my kind of woman, but this one… hell, she was probably a good person on the inside as well.
A total red flag that I should grab my coffee and get out of here.
“Setting up for the Christmas Art Festival tomorrow,” I answered, not wanting to engage in conversation with her. It was enough that I’d had a reaction in seeing her this morning. I didn’t need to get mired in it.
“There’s an art festival?”
“Yeah,” I said as Connor placed my coffee on the counter, nodding my way, then smirking. I’d already told him and Ethan that I’d had a reaction to this Christmas elf. Connor thought it was funny, despite my telling him it pained me to even think about her. “In the town square across the street.”
I was ready to head on out to help Ethan with getting his booth up when she stopped me. “Do you know where I could volunteer to help? I’m not working anywhere yet, and this might be a way for me to get to meet some of the shopkeepers. Might help me get a job.”
Oh fuck!
Why did she have to look so damn cute? I wanted to tell her that no one needed her help. No one wanted her help. That she should just fuck off.
But those sweet eyes and those pouty lips told me I couldn’t be that mean.
Or could I?
“Ah… Um… There’s no—” Her expression grew even sadder. “Yeah. Right. Help you. Look, Ethan and I could use an extra set of hands, if you’re up to helping us get his booth up, then showcasing his artwork tomorrow morning. The guy who works here was supposed to help us, but he came down with a nasty cold, so he’s down for a few days, along with Katy, the girl who usually works the counter. But I should warn you, it’s hard work.”
I had no idea why all that crap came out of me. Why I even asked her. Did I have rocks for brains or what? I hoped like hell she’d ignore my ask and go on about her happy day doing… whatever she liked to do. Like tormenting some of the other folks of Cricket.
She sipped from her extra-large cup like her life depended on it. Then she said, “I know all about erecting booths like that. I used to help in college whenever we had an event on the lawn. I love to build things. My dad was a builder and when I was little, he’d take me to his site all the time. I could build a house if I had to.”
“How Amish of you,” I said, wanting to take it back as soon as I said it.
“As a matter of fact, his great uncle, who I never met, was Amish. That’s who taught him, and he taught me. We even helped raise a couple of barns.”
Could I be any more of an asswad?
“I didn’t mean anything derogatory… I was only trying to make a joke, but sometimes my jokes are shit.”
“Oh, no worries. When do we start?” She suddenly glowed, like the whole idea of building something excited her.
“Whenever you’re ready,” I told her, thinking it would more than likely take her a couple of hours to get mentally prepared and dressed for the task.
“Let me grab my toolbelt and tools,” she said with a straight face. I just about choked on my coffee. “I’ll just pop upstairs and be down in a few minutes.”
“You have a toolbelt?”
“Sure. Don’t you?”
“Ah, no. I have some basic tools—hammers, screwdrivers, a couple of wrenches—nothing fancy. No need for an entire toolbelt.”
“They make all the difference. Let’s hop on over to the hardware store and get you one. My treat for inviting me to help. Can’t work on something like this without a proper belt, or you’ll spend most of your time looking for that hammer you put down somewhere, and it’s disappeared.”
“Oh I…” I couldn’t get the sentence out before she took my hand. The next thing I knew, Merry and I were out the door and heading for the hardware store to buy me a proper belt.
What the fuck?
“THAT ONE DOESN’T look very comfortable,” she said as she stared at my hips and my entire groin area, while I did everything possible not to go hard. I hadn’t had a woman stare at my cock in so long, my mostly abandoned shaft couldn’t take all the attention.
I’d been trying on belts for the past ten minutes. Who knew there were so many different types?
There were leather belts for several hundred dollars and canvas belts for under a hundred. Belts with four pockets or twenty-four pockets. Belts with side pockets, hip pockets. Hell, there were belts with pockets all around and a hammer hook.
And all of them rested right above my hungry dick. It felt like there was a spotlight on the damn thing, and Merry was holding that light… between her teeth… the spotlight, not my dick. Not that I wouldn’t love for her mouth to be wrapped around my dick, but this wasn’t the time or fucking place to be thinking about that shit.
“I’m just going to get this one and be done with it,” I told her. It was a simple side pocket leather configuration with four pockets on one side, two on the other, and a hammer clip in the back. It felt comfortable, and the price was right. I had a small waist, so getting the right fit had been a challenge.
“Here,” she said, opening her coat. “Look at mine. It’s perfect.”
I couldn’t help staring at her, and from what I saw, the woman was indeed, perfect. The belt wasn’t my focus. I couldn’t get past the shape of her hips and what was between her legs. I couldn’t believe she was inviting me to stare at her crotch.
“I can’t do this anymore,” I told her, feeling myself go hard, no longer able to control it. “I’m getting this one. Close your coat. You’re making me crazy.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, stumbling behind me as I walked to the register up front.
Then I took her hand. “Nothing. Everything. Let’s just get out of here.”
“Okay,” she said, grinning, and I wondered if behind that grin, she didn’t know she was driving me crazy.
We made our way to the front counter to buy the belted sex toy before I made a complete fool of myself showing off my own hardware for the likes of Beverly Morganstern. She had a heart condition. She’d come in to buy tree trimmings, not to see a bulge in my pants. She’d been a prima ballerina when she was younger, and rumor had it she’d been writing sexy romance novels under a pen name in the past few years. If anyone would notice my boner, she would.
I held the belt over my crotch as I passed her.
“Nice to see you again, Beverly,” I said.
“You too,” she said, grinning like she knew what was happening… the little minx.
The woman still had it going on, even at her age. I couldn’t help but grin right back at her. “You naughty girl, you.”
“Always,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.
I had to get out of this store.
Now!
Fortunately, the counter was high enough so Mr. Peterson couldn’t see what was going on with my hardware. The guy always liked to tease me when I was growing up, especially about the girls in my life. He’d been gentle about my lack of any kind of steady girlfriend, but I knew damn well, he wouldn’t be gentle about my ever-growing erection.
“Nice belt,” he said. “One of our best. Gonna do some heavy work today, are ya?”
He was a tall, thin man with graying thick hair and a snarky smile that could wither anybody who got on his wrong side. He had to be in his seventies, just like Mrs. Peterson. He loved that woman like nothing else, except for maybe this store.
“Yes. Helping Ethan get his booth up,” I told him.
“And who have we here?” he asked, gazing over at Merry, who wore one of those big, bright smiles that lit up the entire store.
She stuck out her hand. “I’m Merry.”
“You sure are,” he said, taking her hand for a moment, then he rang up my belt and a box of clips I’d picked up when we first arrived. I slid my card into the machine and felt relieved that I’d made it past him without one of his wilting comments.
The time it had taken for the transaction had given my dick the chance to calm the fuck down.
But of course, just when I thought I was home free, he couldn’t let it go. He had to give me one last warning shot right across the jaw. “You two have a nice day now, and Lucas, try to keep that dang tool of yours under control. Nobody wants to see how excited you are about escorting this nice young lady around town.”
I didn’t respond, nor did I even acknowledge him, the old fox.
As soon as we stepped outside, Merry said, “He seems like a nice man… a bit too observant maybe, but a nice man.”
“Shit. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. You kept staring at my… tool belt. A man can only take so much, especially after that kiss you laid on me last night.”
“I laid on you? I think it was a mutual kind of thing.”
“Ah-ha! So, you admit it.”
“I don’t admit anything. Just stating the facts.”
“Anytime you want more… facts, just let me know.”
“I’m a package deal,” she said, grinning. I hated it when she smiled like that. It warmed my insides, and I hated warm insides. They caused me to do and say shit the grump part of me didn’t want to do or say.
So, yeah, she had me curious now. “And what’s in this package? Anything naughty? I’m good with naughty… it’s the nice part that doesn’t work for me. The nice usually lies and pretends to want to please me, whereas I understand naughty… that’s something I can get excited about, sink my teeth into… and anything else that might be… around.”
“You’re disgusting,” she said with a smile. “But I’m not giving up on you. I think you have potential.”
“Potential is highly overrated. For all you know, I’m a loser, a complete waste of humanity… if you even want to refer to me as a human. Some folks call me a rat or a louse or better still, sinful, which means I’m full of sin. Still think I have potential?”
“I do.”
“That’s going to be a problem. I don’t. No matter what it is, I don’t want it.”
“So, you don’t want my package deal?”
“That’s yet to be decided. You haven’t told me the contents, yet. I may change my mind to maybe. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“Okay, I’m all about Christmas music. Christmas decorations. Christmas eggnog. Christmas gifts and stockings hung by the chimney with care, garland and ribbons, sweet apple strudel, snowflakes that stay on your nose and eyelashes, ornaments and all the Santas all over the world.”
She opened her arms then, tilted her head back, and spun around like a kid. The woman exuded happiness and joy. I had to have shit for brains if I let myself get sucked into her web of elation. It was a trap. An endless pit. A journey to the happy side.
This woman represented everything I’d come to hate, to loathe, detest, despise… and yet… why the fuck was I getting a boner just talking to her?
“Okay. Okay. You like Christmas. I get it.”
“I don’t just like Christmas, I love it and everything that goes along with it.”
“So, that’s the package, huh?”
“Yep. And I don’t give out my kisses or anything else if that isn’t part of the deal. I’m stubborn that way.”
“Stubborn? More like willful, inflexible, persistent, inexcusably joyful. I don’t know if I’m up for… this is a big…” I sighed and regrouped. “What makes you think I’ll ever go along with all this glee?”
We stopped walking in front of Ethan’s collapsed booth in the town square. She turned and gazed up at me with a cute smirk, while those sweet eyes of hers bore a hole right through my icy heart and said, “Because you’re worth it.”
Fuck if I didn’t pull her in tight and drop one on her. Only this time, there was tongue action. Deep, soft, sexy-as-hell tongue action that I could cream my pants over.
“Last I looked, I didn’t see any mistletoe around here,” Ethan said, sounding a bit miffed. “Can we hold off on all this hot suck-face shit and get on with the task at hand.”
We instantly stopped kissing, although, for the first time in way too long, I’d fallen deep into it. I couldn’t pin down what I was feeling, exactly, but I knew for damn sure, I wanted more of this Christmas elf, despite all her exasperating bliss.
“Sorry,” she told him. “We just got carried away for a moment.”
“Believe me, it lasted more than a moment. Nice to see, but this booth must get up before tonight, so the powers that be can inspect it and give me the green light. We only have about six more hours to get it all done, including hanging a few of the larger paintings to see if they’ll hold.”
“I understand,” she said. “I left my tools right inside my door. I’ll be back in a flash.” Then dashed away like she looked forward to building this thing.
“Her tools?” Ethan asked.
“Get this, she grew up helping to build homes and barns and shit with the Amish. Don’t ask me for details ‘cause I can’t remember them. The story stopped registering when she told me she had her own fucking tool belt.”
“Like the one you’re wearing?”
“Exactly. I can’t even tell you what a turn on this whole thing has been. It’s like I’ve fallen under some kind of magical spell. I can’t explain it, but it’s the first time I’ve felt anything for a woman since, well, since…”
“You dated… what was her name… over two years ago?”
“Brandi Cruz, the woman who tore my heart out, then stomped on it on her way out of town on Christmas Eve. Yeah, exactly like that. You would think I wouldn’t want anything to do with this woman, but it’s just the opposite. I want everything to do with her. Even her package deal.”
“Package deal? What the hell is that?”
“Everything Christmas… down to her music in the middle of the night.”
“Sounds like she’s put a spell on you. Sure, she’s not some kind of witch?”
“If she did, and she is, I’m all in,” I told him, meaning every word. I spotted her walking across the street, carrying a tool case… a big tool case. So big, I wondered how the hell she could lift it, let alone carry the damn thing. Problem was, it was painted pink… a bright, scruffy pink.
“Holy shit,” I said. “What the fuck am I getting myself into?”