Chapter 12 #2
Pete runs a hand over his face. “Come on, let’s get this done and go home.” He grabs a saw and then holds out a hand to me, which I’m quick to take.
“First one we see,” I remind him, squeezing his hand.
“On it.”
Okay, so it’s not the first one we see, but it’s not far off. I’d feel bad about not appreciating the magic of what is clearly a fabulous place—so many trees of varying shapes and sizes—but as soon as Pete takes his coat off and starts sawing? Yeah, I’m done.
His muscles bunch and contract. It’s hypnotic.
So much so that it takes Pete calling my name a couple of times to get my attention.
Or so he says.
“What?” My gaze snaps up from his arms to his face.
He’s smirking at me. “I said I’m almost done, so hold it steady.”
Oh, the tree.
I grip the top as Pete cuts through the last bit of trunk.
“Finished.”
When he straightens and grins at me, something in my belly flutters.
Oh no.
He’s all pinked-cheeked, hair a tousled mess, and he looks so fucking pleased with himself. I want to grab him and kiss him.
So I do.
We’ve already established that we’re doing this, so why the fuck not?
I grab his fleece with my free hand and tug him towards me. His eyes widen slightly, but he lets me haul him close, eyes dipping to my mouth.
Yeah, we’re on the same page.
Who needs mistletoe?
We’re probably surrounded by people happily picking their own trees, but in that moment I don’t care. As soon as I lean in and kiss him, everything else falls away, leaving only the warmth of his mouth on mine.
It’s tame as kisses go. Pete, thank fuck, still has a sense of decency, and keeps me from turning it into something hot and filthy and not fit for out in public. Even so, I feel it all the way to my toes. Heat blooms in my belly, a small moan escaping when his hand grips my hip and he squeezes.
Then he’s gone and I realise I’ve let go of the tree, and the only reason it’s not in a heap on the ground is because Pete caught it.
“Sorry.” I shrug. So not sorry. “Got distracted.”
Pete laughs, but there’s a hunger lingering in his eyes that lets me know I’m not on my own here. “Let’s get this wrapped and get home.”
Yes, let’s.
I am of no help whatsoever with getting the tree wrapped and on top of Pete’s SUV.
Too busy watching his glorious muscles bulge as he manhandles a Nordmann Fir into submission.
I glance around the Christmas tree farm, noting it’s far bigger than I expected.
I don’t mean to, but I can’t help but imagine this place in one of my books.
I picture the scene of my big, burly detective running through the trees at night after his suspect.
I bet it’s creepy out here after dark. So many places to hide. And lots of murder weapons.
My fingers twitch, and I wish I had a pad and pen to jot this down. I’m about to pull out my phone to do just that when Pete jangles his keys as he steps into my space. “Ready to go?” His voice is all deep and growly, and just like that, I forget all about making notes.
Story? What story?
“Yeah,” I manage as he glances around us, then backs me into the side of his car.
“One for the road,” he murmurs, and then he kisses me with so much promise of what’s to come I’m surprised I’m still standing at the end of it.
That tension fills the car all the way home.
I’m practically vibrating with nervous excitement by the time we pull up in front of his house.
Do we go in and straight upstairs? Does there need to be small talk?
Fuck’s sake, I’m so out of practice at this.
This is nothing like meeting someone on a night out and taking them home. “Are we getting the tree out?” I blurt.
Pete switches the engine off and slowly turns to face me. “Do you want to?” His gaze bores into mine, eyes almost black in the dark interior.
“Um . . . no?”
His expression softens and he reaches for my hand. “You okay?”
“I don’t know.” I lick my lips, that nervous excitement sliding into solely nervous territory. “I feel like maybe we’ve built this up into some big thing and whatever happens next can’t possibly live up to expectations.”
Pete huffs out a laugh. “No pressure.”
I cover my face with my hands. “Ugh, sorry.”
Way to ruin the moment, Charlie.
Then Pete’s big, work-rough hands cover mine and slowly peel them away.
“Charlie?” He keeps hold of my hands, squeezing gently until I look at him.
“There’s no set agenda here. We can take that tree in and decorate it like we planned and nothing more.
See where the evening goes. Or you can go back to your place and work on your book if you want. There’s no wrong answer.”
And just like that, I relax into the seat, nervousness dissipating enough to let that sliver of excitement flow back in. Pete’s stroking the back of my hands with his thumbs. The rhythmic slide of his skin against mine starts off soothing, but my body responds like he’s touching my cock.
I want him.
There’s no denying that.
But I need to get over this lack of confidence that’s making me hesitate. “Um . . . can we maybe take the tree in and go from there?”
His smile is soft as he gives my hands one last squeeze before letting go. “Of course.”
Pete easily hauls the tree down himself, and not gonna lie, I find it ridiculously hot. He props it against the side of his car and throws me his keys.
“Can you open the door?”
“Yep.” I stop mid-step as I see what’s stuck over his front door. “Was that there this morning?”
“What?” Pete walks over to stand next to me and huffs when he sees it. “No, it wasn’t.” He shakes his head, seeming more exasperated than cross. “Sadie,” he mutters. “Must’ve stopped by on her way to the supermarket. She obviously thinks she’s funny.”
Or that we need a push in the right direction. “Does she always try and . . .” Set you up? Get you laid? I really don’t want to say it.
Thankfully I don’t have to.
“No.” Pete’s quick to shake his head. “She says I need to have more fun. I think this is her way of helping me get it.”
“I seem to remember we implied it was a done deal.”
He hums. “That’s true.”
And yet we’re still outside in the cold. And I know it’s down to me.
Pete glances up at the mistletoe and then back at me.
And the tension from before returns tenfold.
“Well, then,” I murmur, unlocking the front door and pushing it open. “Might as well make use of it.”
“Yeah?” Pete checks in with me while edging closer.
“Yeah.”
Tree forgotten, he pulls me to him and kisses me.
Strong arms wrap around my back, and I could get used to feeling all that strength surrounding me.
With no one around to worry about, this kiss is a far cry from the one he gave me at the tree farm.
It’s still deep and slow, but there’s an underlying urgency, a raw desperate need that wasn’t there last time.
His fingers slide into my hair, tilting me to where he wants me, as he walks me inside and up against the nearest wall.
His body presses against mine, connecting us from thigh to chest, and even as bundled up as we are, it’s glorious.
If this is the reaction mistletoe evokes, I’m all for hanging it everywhere.
Gone are any lingering nerves. I want to stay in this moment and kiss him until I’m out of breath, but I also want to drag him upstairs and get him naked.
Decisions, decisions.
When he finally pulls back for air, he rests his forehead against mine. “What do you want to do?”
“You.” It pops out before my brain can engage, but meh. It’s not a lie. I laugh softly. “That was supposed to stay in my head.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Yeah.”
His hands cup my jaw, tilting my head up so he can meet my gaze. “Do you want to come upstairs with me?”
God, even his voice is sexy. It washes over me, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Yes.” What other answer is there? I don’t care that I’m leaving soon. I don’t care that it’s going to hurt when I have to go. That’s a problem for future me.
The only thing on my mind now is Pete, and what we’re about to do.
With our coats and boots in a heap on the hallway floor, he takes my hand and leads me up the stairs.
Any other time I’d be curious to see what his house looks like, but it could be falling down around us and I wouldn’t notice.
Not when I’m faced with the perfection that is Pete’s arse in a snug pair of jeans.
He tugs me into his bedroom, turning as we get through the door, and kisses me.
There’s that urgency again, a promise of more, and I’m a little rougher in the way I grab his shoulders and pull him close.
He moans into the kiss, grabbing handfuls of my arse and hoisting me up so I can wrap my legs around him.
Fuck me, I’m not a small bloke, but Pete lifts me like I weigh nothing. Wasn’t sure I’d be into that, but when he walks me over to the bed and drops me onto it, every part of me is on board.
He follows me down, settling between my spread thighs. “This okay?” He punctuates that question with a slow, dirty grind of his hips, and it takes me a moment before I can answer.
“Mhmm.”
His grin says he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
“Too many clothes,” I mumble between kisses, but I don’t want to let him go long enough to remedy that. His weight on me is solid and lovely, and I want to keep him exactly where he is. I wish magic was a thing, then I could vanish our clothes without either of us having to move.
Unfortunately, it’s not, and I finally have to let him up to take off his T-shirt and fleece.
I’ve already seen him naked from the waist up, but that seems an age ago now.
The soft lighting in his bedroom is a million times better than the harsh lights of the pub, and we don’t have an audience this time.
I can look my fill and not care who’s watching.
He’s so broad across the chest and shoulders, the dusting of dark hair across his pecs an added bonus.
He kneels in front of me, and I push myself up enough to run my hands all over him.