Chapter 4
Chapter Four
VAN
The last of my customers drives off the lot with a tree tied to the hood of their car and my shoulders drop. That was one hell of a day.
Granted, the day after Thanksgiving is usually one of the busiest days of the year for a Christmas tree lot. The whole weekend can be nuts. But this year felt especially exhausting.
It didn’t help that I spent most of the night tossing and turning, thinking about the sounds a certain shopkeeper made as she sampled the Kringle my grandma made for me.
I jerked off three times and still woke up hard as a chestnut roasting on an open fire.
Hell, I don’t even know if chestnuts are hard, roasted or not. It doesn’t matter. The point is, just thinking about those sounds Allegra made has me raging with desire.
I glance at the alley leading to the shop’s door and the woman responsible for my loss of sleep.
At this rate, it’s going to be a long holiday season. Unless I can satiate this particular craving. And there’s only one way that’s going to happen.
I’m going to have to make Allegra mine. There’s no other way around it. I’ve never wanted a woman so badly. Never needed to know exactly what she tasted like.
But winning over a woman like Allegra won’t be easy. Even if I ply her with Kringle, she’s not the kind of woman who will hop into bed with me just because I ask.
That only makes me want her more. Fuck me, I’m sick.
Resigning myself to another night with a permanent boner, I flip off the lights strung over the lot to entice prospective shoppers and disappear into my camper. There’s a box of macaroni and cheese and a package of hot dogs with my name on it.
I connect my phone to the Bluetooth speakers and press play on my Christmas playlist. It’s cheesy, but these songs always remind me of my mom. She loved Christmas. I suppose it’s not surprising since she grew up on a Christmas tree farm. But I always think about her when I listen to some of her favorite songs.
While a jazz band plays the opening bars of “Winter Wonderland,” I dig around for a pot in the cupboard. It’s wedged back in the corner between a colander and the drawer above it. That’s the downside of a mobile home like this. Everything is always shifting while in motion.
Gritting my teeth, I flex my muscles more than I care to admit and pull. Allegra wouldn’t be too impressed by my physical prowess—or me—if she could see me now.
Someone knocks on the camper door, startling me. I crack my head on the top of the cupboard and swear. Rubbing my head, I walk to the door, ready to tell whoever it is to fuck off as politely as possible. We’re closed for the day.
Throwing the door open, the words are on my lips but die off just as quickly as I find who’s waiting on the other side.
“Allegra.” Her name comes out breathy, almost like a prayer and I wince.
Yeah, I’m definitely going to win her over by coming off like a sap. I swear, this woman has turned me inside out.
“Hey.” She shifts from one foot to the other, two oversized Tupperware containers in her hands. “Sorry to interrupt, but?—”
“You aren’t interrupting.” I throw the door open wider and step aside. Probably too eagerly. But as established, I’ve already lost my cool where this woman is concerned. “Come on in.”
Hesitating for only a second, she climbs up. I unnecessarily take her by the elbow to keep her steady which sets my heart racing. But I can’t resist touching her in some way.
“It looked like you were busy today.” She glances around the camper with interest, though I doubt it gives much away. I keep the place pretty spartan. It’s easier, if less cozy, that way.
“Yeah, but it passes the time.” Feeling awkward, I shove my hands in my pockets. “Did you have a good day?”
“It was amazing.” Her face lights up like a Christmas tree, warming my heart. “Clearly our ads—and the social media campaign my sister ran—did the trick. I have to hand it to her, whatever she did worked.”
“So your sister is a marketing expert?”
“Apparently.” She gives a sheepish grin. “I admit, I was worried when I turned our social media accounts over to her. But she clearly proved that she was the right person to be in charge. She’s so creative.”
“You should tell her that. I bet she’d appreciate hearing it.”
“I will.” She shifts from one foot to the other. “Have you had dinner?”
“Not yet.”
“Good, because, well.” She thrusts out the containers in her hand. “Here.”
“Oh.” My heart does a somersault. She brought me dinner. “Thank you.”
“This morning I woke up and realized that by being stuck out here guarding the trees for the past forty-eight hours, you probably didn’t have much of a Thanksgiving dinner.”
She’s right. While the Hungry Man dinner fed my hunger, it did nothing for my soul. “So you brought?—”
“Leftovers from Thanksgiving.” Her face falls. “Oh, God. Are you a vegetarian? Because if you are?—”
“I’m not a vegetarian, and this is very nice of you.” I take the containers. “You brought a lot.”
“I thought you might be hungry after such a busy day.”
“Yeah.” I swallow hard, suddenly feeling unsure of myself like I’m a kid again. “Want to join me?”
“Oh, you don’t have to share.”
“Please.” I motion for her to sit down, not wanting to let her slip out of my company yet. “I insist.”
“Well, if you insist.” She perches on the stool, a light grin playing on her lips. “Sure. I’ll have dinner with you.”
I look at her overly long before moving to grab us a couple of plates and reheat the food. I wave off her offers of help and continue my study of her while I work.
Allegra is different today. Oh, she’s every bit as stunning. Every bit as arousing. But there’s an ease about her. A contentment of sorts.
Either today was a record-setting sales day for the Christmas shop or I’ve gotten under her skin too. She did bring me dinner, after all.
There’s only one way to find out.
“Can I get you a glass of wine?” I ask. “Or maybe a beer or cocktail?”
She arches an eyebrow in a way that already makes me want to kiss her until she can't see straight. “What are you hiding a fully stocked bar in here somewhere?”
“Try me.”
Her lips twitch, and I want to nibble on one of them. Especially that full bottom lip of hers.
“How about a Nuts and Berries?”
“Very seasonal.” With a slight flourish, I pound on a panel on the wall behind me and it opens.
I watch her eyes grow wide and her lips part as a fully stocked liquor cabinet, complete with a wine and beer fridge, opens.
“Now,” I smirk, “would you like that on the rocks or neat?”
A thoroughly impressed Allegra accepts the drink and plate of food and I join her at the counter.
I take a bite of the stuffing and groan inwardly. “Fuck, this is good.”
“Don’t get too excited. It’s from a box.”
“Well, the box stuff is delicious.”
She grins and digs into her slice of turkey. “I didn’t take you for a Harry Connick Jr. Man.”
It takes me a moment to register the sudden change of subject. And to remember that I’ve been blaring Christmas music the whole time.
“At Christmas, Harry is the man.” A fact that was drilled into my head at an early age.
“Oh, come on. It’s gotta be Michael Bublé.”
“Meh.” I lift a shoulder.
“Meh?”
I grin at the outrage in her voice. “He’s good in a pinch. But he’s got nothing on Harry. Or Dean Martin.”
“See, we were always more of a Sinatra family.”
“He’s fine.”
Her jaw drops again. “Fine?”
“Are you having trouble with your hearing?” I brush the hair away from her ears.
She sucks in a breath and pulls back to gape at me. “What are you doing?”
I let my hand fall to my side, but not without tracing my thumb lightly along the side of her jaw first. “Checking to see if you had something in your ears.”
“Something in my ears?”
“There you go again. Repeating everything I say.” I chuckle, appreciating the way her eyes are bright.
I lean toward her, noting the way her breath seems to be coming a little bit faster and shorter. I take her free hand in mine, pleased when she doesn’t pull back. I trace a finger lightly over the smooth part of her wrist and find her pulse. It’s pounding every bit as fast as mine.
She’s no more immune to me than I am to her. Good.
“Allegra?”
She swallows hard. “Yes?”
“You feel it too. Don’t you?”
“Feel what?”
I pull our linked hands to my chest and press her palm over my heart. “You feel what you do to me?”
She nods and her gaze drops to my lips. It’s all the invitation I need.
Still holding her hand against my chest, I raise my free hand to cradle her cheek. Her lips part again, and her shallow breaths whisper against my chin as I lower my lips to hers.
As our lips meet she releases a soft sigh. It’s even sweeter music than any song crooned by the likes of Harry, Michael, Frank, or Dean. I groan, savoring the gentle warmth of her lips and the heat it sends flowing through my veins.
It unleashes a hunger inside of me. One that could never be satisfied by a hundred plates of Thanksgiving leftovers.
It’s more than desire. More than burning need. I don’t have a name for it. But as our lips move together, I never want this to end.
I want more.
I want it all.
Her heart. Her mind. Her body.
Allegra presses her hands flat against my chest and after another nibble pushes herself back in my arms. I groan in disappointment but allow her to draw a breath.
“That was…” She gives a breathy laugh. “Something.”
“That was fucking incredible.” I’m just as breathless. “You’re incredible.” I rub my nose against hers, savoring the little shiver she gives. “And you know what would be even more incredible?”
She laughs lightly and—with a shake of her head—lets her hands drop and slips out of my arms. “I think we should just be friends who share dinner.”
“Friends who share dinner. Fine by me.” I pick up my fork. “But if you ever change your mind and want to share a bite to eat, or something more, you know where to find me.”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath.”
I smirk, because I already know. It’s inevitable. She just needs to come around to accepting that one way or another, we’re going to be together.
When it happens, I’ll let her think it was her idea.