Chapter 13 Sleepy Lumberjack Man Pants
SLEEPY LUMBERJACK MAN PANTS
CLAIRE
“It’ll be fun,” I said, gripping Declan’s wrist with both hands and pulling him down the sidewalk. The man was heavier than he looked when he went all dead weight on you.
“Just because it’s on the itinerary, doesn’t mean we have to do it all,” he muttered as he continued to drag his feet.
“What’s with you and being allergic to fun?” I grunted, throwing my head back to drag him further.
He let out a deep chuckle as he walked toward me, practically sending me backwards from the momentum. He caught me by the elbow as I righted myself and brushed out my sweater.
“I’m not allergic to fun.” His voice was defensive, like my words hit harder than I had intended.
“Then prove it,” I sang, turning on my heels and practically skipping toward the pottery studio in town.
This was one of the events that I was actually looking forward to. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to paint a tree or make an ornament that I could keep forever, but they all sounded fun. I was not a great artist but I loved a chance to flex my creative muscles.
“Fine,” he grunted. “But only for you.”
His words made something inside of me swell. Declan and I hadn’t talked about our kiss—or our second kiss. To my surprise, it also hadn’t been awkward. We’d picked right back up where we’d left off before those confusing feelings entered the chat.
That night at the ski lodge, it was like I was in a trance. I had lost my inhibitions and had no control over my actions. Luckily, Declan wanted it as badly as I did in the moment.
But that was all it was—a moment.
“I like the sound of that.” I winked at him before pulling the studio door open.
As soon as we entered, there was a table set up with options to choose from: a plate, a stand alone tree, a circular ornament, or a mug.
I picked up the mug and Declan chose the plate. We found two open seats at a workbench and gathered glazes in various colors. I immediately started painting as Declan just stared at the chalky white dish.
“It helps if you put paint on it,” I said as I dipped a paint brush into pink glaze.
“You cannot rush the artistic process,” he said, assessing the plate from all angles.
“Mhm,” I said.
We worked mostly in silence. On my mug, I made the base pink and filled it with memories we’d made so far. There were trees and skis, and a ski lift, and snow—I even added a little diamond ring. I wanted to remember it all, even though I doubted I could forget this trip in a million lifetimes.
I glanced toward Declan who was hunched over his plate, biting his lip to show he was hard at work. I stood so I could peer over his shoulder. The second I saw what he was drawing, I slapped a hand over my mouth.
“I can’t take you anywhere,” I hissed.
He burst out a laugh. “It’s fine. No one even understands but us.”
He straightened so I could really see his masterpiece. I attempted to keep in my laughter but I failed as I fell over, gasping for breaths.
Declan made a very nice painting of a Christmas tree on his plate. To most, it was a sweet image, but I knew the truth. The tree was covered in what resembled little multi-colored gummy bears.
I playfully slapped his arm. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I needed a way to remember Gummy Bear Claire,” he teased.
“Or, we could forget her.” I rolled my eyes and went back to my mug.
“Not a chance, Bear.”
I pressed my lips together to hide my smile, but it peaked through as I painted a small gummy bear on the opposite side of my mug.
While I hated the nickname, I kind of wanted to remember her too.
I wanted to remember the winter I got to pretend to be someone else—someone who fell in love in the Swiss Alps, ate laced gummy bears, made out with hot men in public bathrooms, and let loose for the first time in so long.
Today had been quiet, almost too quiet for my own liking.
Declan and I had been here for five days and time was passing both too fast, and incredibly slow.
I found myself forgetting that none of this was my real life.
I was not here with a friend or fiancé, I was here to make Declan look presentable and that was all.
In two weeks, we’d go back to Texas where Declan would stop looking at me with any form of affection and continue ignoring my presence like he had for so many years.
My brain was still having a hard time deciphering the difference between the man I was beginning to know and the man I thought I knew well. He hid his personality away from the corporate world which seemed like a sad way to live, like you led two lives but only one really saw the surface.
I pulled up Warner’s contact and pressed call. It was late afternoon here which meant it was mid morning in Denver. The call rang a few times before I heard the line pick up.
“Hey, Cee. How’s paradise?” She asked, sounding more excited than I felt.
“It’s cold,” I said, my voice dull.
Warner paused. “What’s wrong?”
I sat up straighter, looking around for hidden security cameras. “Nothing is wrong. Everything is perfect.”
“You’re lying to me.”
“I’m not,” I pressed. I totally was.
My phone made a pinging sound that made me screw my eyes shut before taking the phone away from my ear. Warner had switched to a video call.
Fuck.
I swiped to answer the call and put on the brightest smile I could muster.
“What’s wrong?” Her face was as stern as her tone.
I sighed. My sister was always good at seeing through my bullshit.
“This trip has just been a lot. I miss you. I miss Christmas at home.”
Her face softened. “I miss you, too. I’m sad we're missing our traditions but you're in Switzerland. You’re not allowed to be down or depressed. You need to drink wine with that fine as fuck boss of yours and relax. You deserve that.”
“I know, and I have been. Declan has been… different than I thought. I think we’re actually becoming friends.”
Warner wiggled her brows. “With benefits?”
I could feel the blush creeping up my neck. “No! He’s my boss!”
“Your red cheeks say otherwise.”
I pinned her with a look that screamed drop it.
“Okay, okay. I get it. What happens in the Alps, stays in the Alps.” She winked at me.
“You’re the worst,” I snorted, even though my smile told her the opposite.
“You love me.” She grinned.
“I do.”
“Why don’t you have a night to yourself tonight. Wear the socks I am positive you brought and make the popcorn and enjoy the tradition in a beautiful place.”
I knew my sister meant well, but something about that idea sounded depressing and lonely.
“Maybe.” I sighed and looked out the window. I was curled up on the couch, covered in a blanket as snow fell outside. It was picture perfect, but felt kind of hollow.
“Do it. And send me feet pics for proof.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Why do you want my feet pics?”
“To sell them on the internet, duh.” She smacked her head like I was the ridiculous one.
“Of course. Why didn’t I guess that?”
Warner laughed. “I’ll see you after Christmas, okay?”
I nodded. “Love you.”
“Love you, too, Cee.”
The call ended and while I was momentarily happy while joking around with my baby sister, that feeling was now replaced by something else. A deep lonely feeling; one I was all too used to since she left. A feeling like no one would really care if I wasn’t here anymore or miss me if I disappeared.
I was irrelevant.
I picked myself up off of the couch and went down to my room.
The sun was starting to set behind the mountains and I deemed it time to put on my pajamas.
Declan had a dinner scheduled with colleagues tonight—a business one—and I was all too happy for a break.
That meant I was on my own with no plans.
I pulled out a pair of Christmas pajamas that Warner bought us last year––a soft cotton matching set with a long sleeved cropped top and high waisted shorts. They were pink with the Grinch’s face plastered all over them. I pulled on the matching fuzzy socks and threw my hair into a messy bun.
When I got back upstairs, I queued up my Christmas pop playlist and grabbed all of the ingredients for “anything but the kitchen sink” popcorn. Prior to Warner’s call, I had gone to the small grocery store and had a field day with snacks. Anything that could possibly go in popcorn, I bought it.
When I settled on the couch, I took a picture of my socks and sent them to Warner.
Proof of silly happenings.
Warner
Woah, you might be going off the rails. Keep it tame.
No, I like to live life on the edge.
I thought Warner was going to text back saying something like, “No you don’t, you boring bitch,” but she didn’t.
Warner
I know ;)
Two simple words shouldn’t matter, but they did. She didn’t disagree. She didn’t put me down. That was what my normal was, but I was changing.
This trip was changing me.
My phone buzzed again.
Warner:
Give the Grinch a kiss for me.
He’s a cartoon.
Warner
Yup, totally meant the cartoon. ;)
I threw my head back on a laugh just as footsteps sounded on the stairs. I froze and sprang to my feet. I wasn’t sure why this was mortifying. Between the pink themed pajamas, fuzzy socks, and chocolate and marshmallow covered popcorn, it was hard to narrow it down.
I rushed toward the island and started shifting things around to look less like a child tornado blew through here. I was on tiptoe, placing a bag of marshmallows back on the shelf when a strong hand gripped my waist.
I could feel the hard lines of Declan’s body as he lined himself up behind me and plucked the marshmallows right out of my hand.
“Are you trying to hide this from me, Bear?”
Declan’s deep voice sent goosebumps down my spine. I glanced up at him with a guilty smile.
“Me? Hiding something? Never. Nope.”
“You’re a dirty little liar.” His voice was smooth as he kept me pinned against the counter with his hips.
“I was just making a snack. I thought you had a dinner to go to.”
“And miss the sight of you in these pajamas? Hell no.” He chuckled, taking a step back so I could turn to face him. “Actually, Paul got called into some important company business and rescheduled. So I am free for the night.”
I nodded, glancing at my popcorn and then back to him. “Oh, okay. I’ll clean up then.”
I moved to grab the rest of the toppings that filled the counter when Declan grabbed onto my wrist. “What were you doing?”
“It’s embarrassing,” I said, tucking a stray hair behind my ear while refusing to look him in the eye.
“Try me.” He loosened his tie and pulled it off of his neck in one foul swoop.
That should not have been as attractive as it was. I was staring, mouth slightly ajar when he cleared his throat with an amused look. I blinked rapidly, averting my eyes to literally anywhere but his smug little face.
“Right. Uh, so my sister and I did this stupid thing every year and this is the first time I’m missing it.”
He motioned his hand in a circle for me to continue.
“Okay, yup, we’re really doing this. Wow.” I was rambling as Declan tried to hide his smirk. “So, Warner and I would buy Christmas pajamas and wear fun socks for a movie marathon. Then we would make kitchen sink popcorn.”
“Kitchen sink popcorn?” He arched his brow.
“Yeah like ‘everything but the kitchen sink’. Basically any toppings you want.”
“Ah, hence the marshmallows."
“Hence the marshmallows,” I agreed.
He clapped once, rubbing his palms together with a smile. “Alright, let's do this.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Come on, Bear. I’m not going to let you embarrass yourself alone.”
I covered my eyes with my hands and groaned. “This is mortifying.”
He gripped my wrists and pulled my hands away. “No, it isn’t. This is fun, boring girl.”
He winked at me before giving strict instructions to wait in the kitchen as he disappeared downstairs.
When he came back upstairs, I couldn't help but burst into laughter. I doubled over, holding onto the counter as I gasped for air.
“Are you laughing at me, Claire?” His voice was hard but his eyes shimmered with humor.
“No,” I wheezed. “I’m laughing with you, not at you, Boss Man.”
“I don’t believe you.” Before I could respond, he dove for me, lifting me over his shoulder and marching me toward the back door. “Maybe the freezing cold will make you tell me the truth.”
“No, no, I’m sorry! Don’t throw me in the snow! I love your sleepy lumberjack man pants!”
He landed a playful smack to my ass—that I completely hated—before placing me down and turning back toward the kitchen. My eyes fell to his ass that looked great in his buffalo plaid pajama pants.
What really made me laugh, though, was the bright green fuzzy socks covered in Christmas trees that barely covered his feet.
“Are we going to ignore the fact that you went through my bag for those socks?”
“Afraid of what I’d find if I dug deeper?” He winked at me.
I blushed. “No.”
Yes.
He leaned into my space so his lips were hovering above my ear. “Why did my assistant bring black lace to a work trip?”
I whirled around, smacking his arm. “You snoop!”
He barked out a laugh. “I was completely joking. The socks were sitting right on top of your dresser, but now I know what you’re hiding in there.”
My jaw dropped. “I can’t believe you.”
“Come on, show me the ways of kitchen sink popcorn.”
So I did.
We debated savory versus sweet. My popcorn leaned more into a s’mores theme while Declan tossed in sour gummy candy and chocolate—a foul combo if I say so myself. Once our bowls were made, we settled onto the couch and queued up The Grinch.
Declan draped a blanket over our laps and turned the lights out, casting us in only the glow from the TV.
“So, you and your sister did this every year?” He asked.
I nodded. “It’s stupid but we really looked forward to it.”
“It’s not stupid,” he whispered, nudging my leg with his.
“This is the first time we’re not doing it for as long as I can remember. It’s not a big deal, but somehow feels monumental at the same time. Like we’ll never get it back.”
“You will,” he said, looking down at me as he popped a sour candy into his mouth.
“Do you have any siblings?”
He shook his head. “No, and my family also doesn’t do anything like this. So, thank you for sharing it with me.”
I smiled at him before leaning my head onto his shoulder. “Thank you for not laughing at me, Declan.”
Declan placed a soft kiss to my hair as he whispered, “I’ll never laugh at you, Claire. You’re amazing.”
And then we watched all three remakes of the Grinch and ate popcorn until we fell asleep on the couch, wrapped up in each other.