24. Charlie
CHAPTER 24
Charlie
The electrician crew was a dream.
It was a very expensive, adept team. They redid the bathroom and the wiring in the living room wall that had caught fire. I was able to sheetrock over it already, and tomorrow, I’ll do the texture.
“I’m going into town to grab some dinner. Want me to bring you something?”
I jump and spin around at the sound of Max’s deep voice. I’m going to get him a freaking bell. Maybe that way, he’ll stop scaring me.
I notice he didn’t ask if I wanted to come with him. He’s probably just trying to have some reasonable distance between the two of us after I practically threw myself at him. Sheesh.
I was hoping that my apology this morning would make things better…but he seems just as jumpy tonight.
“Nah, I’m good.” I point to the stack of boxes at the bottom of the stairs. “I got all of the Christmas stuff out of the attic. I’ll be here decorating that monstrosity.”
We both turn to stare at the giant tree that reaches all the way to the top of the vaulted ceiling.
“I still can’t believe we fit that thing in here,” Max says in awe as he stares up at it.
“Right? Okay, well, I have to get to work. I might be decorating this for the next couple of months, and it will end up being a Valentine’s Day tree.”
“Give me a call if you change your mind about the food. I’d be happy to grab you something.” He turns and leaves the house, and I set up my speaker to play some loud and happy Christmas music. It’s against the law to decorate a Christmas tree without music.
My Santa spirit quickly dissolves into being a Grinch spirit animal.
It takes a solid hour and a half to string the tree with lights. By the time I finish, Max is back from town and I can smell the delicious food that he’s bringing in.
“I brought you a burger and fries,” Max says as he rounds the corner, carrying a bag of food in one hand and a large cup in the other. “And a chocolate milkshake.”
My eyes widen. “How did you know I actually wanted all that?”
“Call it a hunch.”
“Well, it was a great hunch.” I bend down and plug the Christmas lights in, then turn around to take the food from him. “Thank you for this. I’m definitely hungry now. I’ll pay you back.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I pull the bag open and take a deep sniff of the salty, greasy fries, and the hamburger that I can see is covered in cheese. I moan as I take out a handful of fries and shove them in my mouth. “Mmm, so good.”
Max is staring at me with a strange look on his face.
“What?” My word comes out muffled around the food.
Max coughs. “Nothing.” He turns away, walks over to the boxes of ornaments, and takes the lid off one of them.
I sink down on the leather couch and pick up the burger.
“Huh, that’s a lot of ornaments,” Max says.
I glance up from the love affair I’m having with my dinner and see that Max has opened seven plastic totes. All of them are full of ornaments.
I consider crying, but instead, I take a long drink of the milkshake—otherwise known as liquid courage.
“Forget what I said about Valentines. I’ll be here decorating until Halloween.”
Max chuckles at that and bends down to pick up an ornament shaped like Santa’s sleigh. He walks over to the tree and hangs it on the limb. He dusts off his hands exaggeratedly. “There. That ought to help.”
He starts to walk out of the living room.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?” I sit up and point at him. “You did that so well…I bet you could do another one. You’re probably the best tree decorator I’ve ever seen.”
He looks at me. “I know what you’re doing.”
I raise my eyebrows and do my best to pretend to be innocent. “I have no idea what you’re even talking about.”
Max points at me. “You’re just flattering me so that I’ll help you decorate this giant tree.”
“What!” I take a long, loud sip from the milkshake. “I would never—” Sip. “Never—” Sip . “Do something devious like that.”
Max shakes his head and chuckles. “Fine. I’ll help a little bit. Besides, you need to finish your dinner.”
He slips off his coat and tosses it on the couch next to me. I can still feel his heat radiating from it and it smells faintly of a nice cologne. He tosses his ball cap at me, and it lands on my head, cockeye.
I flip it around to wear it backward and give him a cheeky grin. He smirks back.
I pick up the burger and keep eating while I watch Max pull various ornaments from the boxes. He begins laying them on the carpet, organizing them into groups, and moving glass ball ornaments together. Cutesie ornaments together. Sentimental lined up. Color-coordinated groups, etc, etc.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he takes a few of the glass ornaments and begins climbing the ladder to reach the higher branches.
“I’m helping you decorate the tree, what’s it look like I’m doing?” He asks as he stretches out to hang the ball on a branch just out of his reach.
His shirt stretches tight, and I sip my milkshake, admiring the muscle show I’m getting. He hangs the ornament and moves on to the next one.
“How’s that look?” He asks.
“Why, Mr. St. James, are you fishing for compliments?” I tease as I finish off the last of my fries.
“I’m fueled by affirmation. If you want me to keep decorating, you have to tell me I’m doing a good job.” He climbs down the ladder a few steps and hangs a couple more ornaments before climbing down to reload. He grabs a few snowmen-shaped ornaments this time.
“It’s the best decorating job I’ve ever seen. The spacing is impeccable, you’re design choice is chef’s kiss good.”
Max’s body jerks a little at the word kiss, and it does something odd to me.
“Have you climbed—er, decorated—many Christmas trees?” Max asks as he climbs the ladder.
“Only mine. Christmas tree decorating isn’t really in my wheelhouse.”
He glances down at me. “Then you don’t understand how important taking your time is.”
His eyes are looking a little heated, and all of a sudden, it’s a bit warm in this room. I take a big gulp of the chocolate shake and jump up.
Hurrying to the box of ornaments, I reach in and pull out a small cow-shaped ornament. “You are very methodical about it,” I finally answer him.
We spend another full hour teasing each other and decorating the world’s most enormous tree. When we finally reach the last small box, I pull the lid off and squeal with delight at what’s sitting on top.
“What are you going on about?” Max asks as he steps closer. “Is that a pickle?”
“Yes! Don’t you have a pickle ornament?”
Max coughs loudly and mutters, “I better not comment on that.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “I’m serious! This is a tradition in my family! There are lots of different ways to play it, but in my family, one person hides the pickle. And if someone spots it on the tree, you owe them something. Like a favor.”
Max reaches for the ornament. “Hmmm, that’s interesting. That sounds like it could be fun.” He passes it back to me. “You hide it first. We’ll take turns.”
“What? You think you’ll be able to find it?” I throw my head back and laugh. “I am the queen of winning this. I haven’t owed anyone a favor since the third grade.”
Max shrugs. “I’m feeling pretty lucky.”
I study his face, watching for anything that says he thinks this is ridiculous. What I find is a heated look that makes my heart race. I might be the queen of this game, but he’s the king of sending mixed signals. One minute, he’s telling me there’s no future for us; the next, he’s bringing me dinner and looking at me with eyes that make me feel like I’m swimming in them.
“You better go stand by the front door while I hide it. You’ll never find it.”
Max stomps back to the door with exaggerated thumping. “I’m still going to find it! You’re dreaming, Baxter!”
I lay down on my back and shimmy under the tree, dropping it into the tree stand. I hurry and slide back out, standing up and catching my breath. Why is this so much fun?
“Okay! It’s safe to come back.”
Max thumps back down the hall. My heart beats in rhythm with his footsteps.
“Alright…” he drawls as he rounds the corner. I expect him to stare at the tree and begin searching for the pickle, but instead, his gaze lands on me. He takes in every detail from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. He steps closer and glances over my shoulder; then, a slow grin spreads across his face. “Gotcha.” He says in his self-assured way.
I watch in shock as he drops to the floor and shimmies under the tree, just like I had done a moment before. I say nothing, hoping that somehow, he’ll miss it.
A couple of grunts later, he scoots out from under the tree—holding the pickle and grinning like a cat that ate the canary.
“What was that…queen?” He asks with a deep chuckle as he stands up to move in front of me and dangle the ornament in front of my face.
“How did you know where it was? Were you cheating and watching?” I tap a finger against his chest. “You were peeking!”
“I was not,” he gasps like he’s offended. “Besides, you’re like an open book. All I had to do was read your expression, and I knew exactly where you hid it.”
“This is outrageous!” I exclaim with a laugh.
He grins and reaches behind me, pulling a couple of pine needles from my hair.
Max shakes his head and appears thoughtful. “Now I just need the perfect favor—what should it be.”
“I’m not going to lie; I’m a little scared of what you’re going to come up with.” I plant my hands on my hips.
Max looks down at me with a grin. “You should be.”
We stare at each other in silence for a full minute. I can hear the large grandfather clock ticking away in the corner of the living room. “So, what’s the damage? Have you thought of a favor yet?”
“I think a kiss.” His voice is steady and sure.
“What?” I gasp. My chin practically bounces off of my chest.
“You heard me. I want a kiss.”
“But—” I sputter. “But you don’t want me!”
Max shakes his head slowly. “I’ve never said that now, have I?”
Words fail me and I shake my head slowly.“But all that I said after the dance…then this morning…”
“The fact is, Charlie. I want you. I want you too much. And it’s the reason I should stay away. And it’s the reason I can’t stay away. I’ve been thinking about kissing you again ever since you walked away at the dance.”
Max leans past me to gently toss the ornament on the couch.
He straightens and steps closer. “I want to kiss you without everyone watching.”
I swallow the lump in my throat and wait for him to make his move, but then realize he’s waiting on me.
“Me too,” I whisper.
It’s the green light he was waiting for. He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me tight against him. His chest is rock hard under that flannel shirt, and I rest my hands against his arms. They don’t even come close to wrapping around them. I’m becoming all too familiar and attached to Max’s body. But then he dips his head towards mine and mutters, “You’re something else, Charlie.”
His lips crash down on mine. Last time, he let me lead the kiss. This time, he’s having none of that. He’s focused, intense, and on an exploratory mission I’m glad to be a part of.
He slants his mouth over mine, kissing me deeply as I tip my head back. He slides an arm behind my head, supporting me as he slips his tongue past my lips, testing the waters.
I sigh and relax into his hold. He tastes like mint and smells like heaven. He’s clean-shaven today, and his skin is smooth against mine as he devours my mouth.
With his arms over mine, I can’t reach up to play with his hair.
I settle for sliding a hand in the back pocket of his jeans.
Max groans and adjusts his hold on me to lift me off the ground and closer to him as he nips at my bottom lip, giving me a chance to breathe.
With my arms loose, I rest them on his shoulders, twirling and playing with his hair as he kisses me again.
I’ve never been kissed like this. Ever.
Max St. James has officially ruined me for any other kisses in my life. My whole body is on fire, and I’m happy to burn.