Chapter 19
LUCAS
Iwake up to the rumble of a truck engine getting closer.
My eyes snap open, and I tighten my arms around Holiday, who’s still sound asleep against my chest. She’s warm and soft, and her body curves perfectly into mine like it always used to. Like a decade and a half didn’t pass. Like we never stopped doing this.
Early morning light filters through the tent fabric, and I can hear tires on gravel getting louder.
Shit.
A truck door slams, and I hear boots crunching across gravel.
Holiday stirs against me, moaning, a sound that goes straight through me. Her hand is under my shirt, resting on my chest. I’m acutely aware that I’m growing hard having her pressed against me. Then I think about last night and tasting her.
“Morning.” Her voice is rough with sleep.
“Shh. Someone’s here,” I whisper.
She freezes as footsteps approach the tent. Then someone starts unzipping it from the outside.
“Rise and shine, lovebirds,” Jake’s voice says cheerfully.
Holiday sits up fast, her hair falling out of what used to be a bun. She looks gorgeous in her wrinkled red sweater with eyes still heavy from sleep. I have to resist the urge to pull her back down and kiss her until she makes those sounds she made last night.
“Oh my goodness,” Holiday says when Jake’s grinning face appears.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” His brow pops up.
“Go away,” I say, running my hand through my hair and trying to clear my head.
“Wish I could, but I was put on the search crew to find you. Both of you, actually.” He glances at his watch.
“It’s almost eight. The bakery is supposed to open in an hour.
Holiday’s mom has called everyone in the fam since you didn’t come home last night.
Emma called Bella, Wendy, and Bethany to come in and put up a sign saying they’re opening late. ”
Holiday’s face goes pale.
“Shit.” She scrambles out of the tent. “I have to go right now.”
Jake takes a step back and picks up the bourbon. “Ah, the culprit. Lucas, you realize you were supposed to help Dad with charity deliveries at seven. Way to piss off Santa.”
“Dammit.” I crawl out of the tent and stretch. Instantly, my head pounds. Holiday is frantic, moving at lightning speed. Her sweater has ridden up slightly, and I can see a sliver of bare skin at her waist. I force myself to look away.
Jake crosses his arms as he looks between us. His eyebrows shoot up, and he tucks his lips inside his mouth to stop himself from laughing.
“Y’all have a good night?” Jake asks.
I glance at Holiday, and I see her neck has three dark purple marks trailing from just below her ear down toward her collarbone. One is partially hidden by her sweater collar, but two are very visible against her skin. And she has absolutely no idea.
My marks. My mouth. Mine.
Something primal in me is satisfied by it, even though I know it’s going to be a problem. She’s completely oblivious to the fact that the evidence of what we did last night is branded on her skin.
“I never oversleep,” Holiday mutters. “Bella and Wendy and Bethany are currently baking without me. This is so unprofessional. Shit. Have you seen my phone?”
“In the chair,” I say, my voice raw.
She grabs it and immediately starts typing a text. I’m sure it’s to Emma.
“Holiday.” Jake is fighting a smile. His eyes keep flicking between her neck and my face. “What did y’all do here?”
She stops moving for just a second to look at him. “We didn’t do anything. We just talked and drank too much. That’s it.”
Jake’s eyes drop to her neck again, and he clears his throat. “Just talked, huh?”
“Yes.” Holiday stands beside me. “I know how this looks, us being out here all night, but nothing happened.”
“You heard her,” I say, even though the marks on her neck are clearly screaming otherwise. Even though I can still taste her. Even though my body is still humming from having her come apart in my arms to thoughts of me.
“We’re just friends. Lucas has made that very clear.” She’s already moving toward my truck with her arms full of her things.
“Yeah, it’s crystal fucking clear right now,” Jake says, and he’s full-on grinning. “But sure, whatever you say.”
She’s at my truck now, opening the door.
“I’ll pick this shit up,” Jake tells me, squeezing my shoulder. “Didn’t realize friends sucked each other’s necks like that.”
“Fuck off,” I tell him. “Dad get help?”
“Yeah, Hudson went with him.”
I shake my head. “I’ve been occupied.”
“Apparently,” he says. I move to the truck and climb in. I reach over and grab her hand. “It’s not the end of the world, okay? Repeat after me. Shit happens.”
She’s vibrating with stress. “Emma is going to be so upset.”
I laugh. “She won’t.”
The trail through the woods looks much different during the day. The golden sunlight sneaks through the branches and it makes me smile. My body remembers last night and how she felt in my arms. The sounds she made when she came and how she tasted.
My heart is pounding as she types another message to Emma.
She still hasn’t noticed the hickeys, and I know she’ll lose it when she sees them.
“Mondays are always so busy,” she whispers. And I count down to the day when her ex is to arrive in town.
Five days.
When he arrives, he’ll absolutely see those marks on her skin, knowing someone has been touching her, knowing she’s not his anymore. If she ever really was. Doesn’t sound like that was the case.
Love that for him.
“Emma says the girls have it under control, but I still feel awful,” Holiday mutters. “Wendy had to come in on her day off because of me.”
“They’ll be fine. My cousins love this, trust me.”
“That’s not the point.” She’s typing out a response. “I’ve never been late to work.”
I glance at her. Morning light is streaming through the windshield. I think about my mouth on her throat while she touched herself. Loved hearing the way she gasped when I sucked that sensitive spot below her ear.
I shift in my seat, knowing this could get awkward, but go for it anyway.
I reach up and pull down her sun visor. The lights on the small mirror flick on.
“What are you—” She stops midsentence as she catches sight of her reflection.
Her eyes go wide. She leans forward, tilting her head to see her neck better. Her hand flies up, fingers gently touching one of the marks.
“Oh my—” Her voice comes out strangled. She glares at me. “Lucas! What have you done!”
I wince. “Yeah. Whoops.”
“Whoops? This isn’t a whoops! Everyone is going to know.”
“Sorry?”
“Three hickeys? Look how purple they are! Are you a fucking Hoover vacuum?” She’s twisting the visor, trying to see all of them. Her face is bright red, but there’s something else in her eyes, too. Something heated that makes my blood run hotter. “I just told Jake nothing happened!”
“Yeah, I think he knew you were lying.”
“While I have this all over my neck!” She finally looks at me directly, and there’s heat in her gaze along with a dash of annoyance. Or is that awareness? “I was like a kid with chocolate all over her face, insisting she didn’t eat any cookies.”
I can’t help it, and I laugh. The image is too perfect.
“It’s not funny!” But she’s fighting a smile now, her eyes still locked on mine. There’s something electric in the air between us. Something that didn’t get resolved last night.
“It’s hilarious,” I say with a shrug. “So, HoHo. What will you say when people ask who marked you as theirs?”
“You’re impossible.” She touches the mark near her ear, and her cheeks flush darker.
Her fingers linger on it, and I remember tasting her skin, enjoying it.
“You always did this. Even in high school. Senior year, you gave me a hickey right before school pictures! I had to lie and say it was someone from Valentine that I met at the rodeo!”
“In my defense, I was young and dumb.”
“And the only difference is that now you’re thirty-four.” She’s not really mad, though. I can see it in her eyes and in the way her lips are curving up. It’s also not lost on me that she keeps looking at my mouth.
We turn onto the main road through the farm and pass the line of cars trying to enter the property.
Holiday’s eyes widen even more. “We’re going to get slammed today.”
I turn onto the country road and drive the two miles to her parents’ place.
I smirk, knowing those marks on her neck prove she’s mine.
Except, she’s not yet. Not until she chooses me. And not after drinking half a bottle of bourbon together, either.
“For what it’s worth,” I say, “I’m actually not sorry I did it.”
She turns to look at me. The morning light makes her eyes look impossibly blue. “I know you’re not. That hasn’t changed either.”
I keep my eyes on the road because if I look at her too long, I’m going to pull over and kiss her until those marks are everywhere. “I’m not sorry about last night, either.”
“I’m not either.”
The air in the truck feels charged, like last night never really ended, and those secrets did change things. A part of me wishes we were still in that tent.
“Fucking Jollys,” she says, but there’s no heat in it. Just affection and want.
“Your favorite family,” I say, grinning. I ache everywhere for her.
I pull up to her parents’ house and put the truck into park. Even though she’s hours late, Holiday doesn’t get out right away. Her expression makes my heart kick up, makes me want to say fuck it. But I can’t. Not yet.
Being reckless is the last thing either of us needs, and it seems like I’m going to have to stay strong for us both.
“So,” she says quietly. “Do you think I’m desperate and pathetic? Like you said to me at Moonshiners?”
“No,” I admit. “I was being cruel, and I didn’t know the whole story. I’m sorry for that.” My heart is pounding now. My whole body is tense.
Her eyes are steady on mine. Direct. “Thank you.”
I reach across the console and cup her face, then brush my thumb over one of the marks on her neck. Her skin is so soft. Warm. Mine.
“I want you to figure your shit out, Holiday. But I won’t wait forever.”
“One thing at a time,” she whispers. “This is a start.”
I press a kiss to her forehead, letting my lips linger. Breathing her in. Memorizing this moment. Is this the beginning of forever?
She smiles and it does something to my chest. Makes it hard to breathe.
“Thank you for not using me,” she says. “Most guys woul—”
“I’m not most guys,” I tell her.
“Oh, I’m aware,” she says with a laugh. Holiday reaches for the door, then leans back. Her eyes drop to my mouth for just a second before meeting my gaze again.
“Stop,” I mutter.
“Stop what?” That cocky as fuck smile grows.
“Confessions aren’t supposed to change anything,” I remind her.
“Have a good day,” she says with a brow lifted.
I watch her walk toward her parents’ house with a rush to her step. She turns to look back at me, waiting on the sidewalk.
I shake my head at her, knowing what she’s doing. Trying to break my control.
“Already fucking ruined,” I mutter to myself as I back out of the driveway, then head home.
She knows I’m not like anyone else she’s ever been with.
I give instead of take.
I support instead of control.
I love instead of manipulate.
And I’ll have her begging me to slide down her chimney before it’s over.