13. Lizzie
THIRTEEN
LIZZIE
Ten seconds ago, there’d been a boner pressed up against my crotch. Ten seconds ago, I’d been imagining how good it would feel to have said boner all up inside me. My mind had conjured up all the images I’d told myself were a bad idea, the ones that had made me shiver with pleasure with my hand between my thighs.
Now there was an eleven-year-old kid stomping his way into the living room, sheer joy painted on his features, and I was trying to come to grips with whatever the hell was going on in my body.
I knew I was attracted to Sean; after all, I had a pulse.
But I hadn’t known that Sean was attracted to me .
I took a deep, gasping breath and painted a smile on my face. My mother poked her head into the living room, saw me, and smiled. “Oh! You’re here.”
“We just got back.” I gestured to the tree and avoided looking at the man currently ruffling his son’s hair. “Sean picked a tree.”
Simple, obvious sentences were good when most of my body was busy frantically trying to slow down my pulse.
“How wonderful,” Mom said. “Why is it on the ground?”
I cleared my throat and dragged my gaze to the tree, then to Sean. He reached down, picked it up, and straightened it as much as he could, but the whole trunk listed dangerously to the side.
“I’ll hold it,” I told him. “You do the tree stand.”
There was a tiny twitch of his eyebrow, but Sean nodded and got on his knees. I glanced down at him and away.
“It’s amazing ,” Mikey exclaimed, fingers stroking the evergreen needles with awed reverence. He looked at me with wide eyes. “Can Zach and Hazel help us decorate it?”
“They’re in the car,” my mother explained. “We stopped by here on the way to your place.”
I nodded, then dragged my gaze down to Sean. Sprawled on the floor at my feet, he looked completely unruffled. No hint of blush on his cheeks. No pulse thudding in his neck. He shrugged at me and said, “Sounds fun to me.”
“Sure,” I said.
“I’ll grab the kids,” Mom said.
Sean’s head disappeared beneath the pine needles, and I forced another deep breath into my lungs. Of course he was unruffled. His erection had probably been some physiological reaction he had no control over, like a rogue wave on the ocean. Maybe he got erections every time he ended up on top of a woman, which meant it wasn’t me , specifically, that made him get hard. It was just the fact that I was there.
As much as the thought made my throat clench, it made sense. Why would a tall, handsome, muscular man like Sean Hardy want a short, frumpy woman like me?
I wasn’t the kind of woman that turned heads on the street. I hadn’t been that woman in a long, long time. I was a mom. People saw me walking down the street and thought, yeah, she’s got kids . I was the one that people handed the camera to and asked to take photos instead of waving at me to enter the frame. The one who got relegated to babysitting duty, who made sure everything happened without a hitch in the background and didn’t expect to be noticed or thanked for it.
It just didn’t make sense that a hunk like Sean would be attracted to me, so I stopped trying to make sense of it. I just held the trunk and avoided gazing down at the long legs stretched out on the hardwood floors, holding the rough fir trunk until it was secure.
“Ooh,” Mikey said, pulling a box of ornaments out of one of the Target bags. “Whoa! Look at these, Dad. Red with sparkles.”
“They’re pretty,” Sean replied, crawling out from under the tree, but his eyes were on me. I watched his gaze narrow slightly and found myself patting my pockets as if I were looking for something, just to give myself an excuse to look away.
“I’ll play photographer,” I said, and dove for my purse. “I don’t have my camera, but the phone’ll do just fine.”
Zach came skidding into the living room on sock-clad feet, then let out a whoop of excitement. Hazel’s eyes were bright. I smiled at the three kids as they tore through the bags and judged my decorative choices.
“We have to put the lights on first,” Hazel proclaimed, bossy as ever. “That’s how it works.” She pulled out the box of lights and thrust it at Sean.
I fumbled with my phone until I had the camera app open, then used it to distract myself from spinning out about what had just happened. Which was nothing. Nothing had just happened. A rogue wave had hit Sean’s bloodstream, landed in his penis, and then he’d landed on top of me.
Yeah. That made sense. It made more sense than my brother’s best friend actually being attracted to the little sister who’d let herself go after two kids and a divorce.
I snapped pictures while my mom rustled up some drinks and snacks for everyone. Sean untangled the lights and got them working, then strung them up on the now secure tree. Most of the pictures I took were of Mikey. His face beamed with such pure joy that it was easy to take shots of him. I snapped a great one of him holding up two ornaments to a laughing Sean, the two of them wearing the exact same smile on their faces. That one was a keeper.
When it came time to put the tree topper on, Mikey took the star out of its box with careful fingers, a deep sigh making his chest rise and fall. He glanced up at the tree—which was still bent across the ceiling—then at Sean.
“Let me get some shears,” Sean said, then ruffled his son’s head while he brushed past. His eyes flicked to me, then he ducked out of the living room.
“Your tree looks really good,” Hazel told Mikey. “And it smells nice.”
Mikey puffed up with pride. “Thanks. You did a good job decorating it.”
Hazel nodded as if the compliment was her due. “Thank you. You too.”
I smiled at the kids, then at my mother, who sat on the couch and rested her head on her hand. We waited until Sean came back, got on a step stool, and trimmed the top scraggly branches so there were a few inches of space between the tree and the ceiling.
Mikey lifted the tree topper—a golden star that was already twinkling in the lights of the living room—to hand it to his father.
Sean looked at it, smiled, and got down off the stepladder. “I think you should do the honors, buddy,” he told Mikey.
My heart clenched. It was such a small gesture, but it made Mikey’s whole face light up. And I saw, in that moment, just how much Sean cared about his son. It was like opening a door to a room I hadn’t realized existed. I saw another facet of Sean’s personality that had previously been invisible. The caring, thoughtful man who knew exactly what his kid needed.
And it wasn’t a surprise, really. He’d brought me stuffing. He’d enlisted my help to get the tree in the first place, which I could tell he’d done for Mikey’s benefit. I knew he was caring, but seeing it written so plainly on his face was something special.
It made my heart grow in my chest, but it also made my eyes drift to my own children, and I felt a pang of sadness. Their father bulldozed his way through everyone else’s preferences to make sure he got what he wanted. As long as Isaac was happy, there was peace. But any inconvenience was treated as a calamity.
I wished my kids had a man like Sean in their lives. Someone who put them first.
Well. Someone other than me.
I got another great picture of Sean lifting Mikey up and Mikey fitting the topper onto the tree. Sean’s face was soft as he watched his son reach for the branch, and Mikey’s eyes were alight with the glow from the twinkling Christmas lights on the tree.
When Mikey was on the ground again, I looked at the picture and smiled. That one was worthy of a frame.
“Okay,” I called out when all the boxes and bags were cleaned up. “It’s time for us to get ready for bed.”
“Mo-om,” Zach complained.
“Shoes,” I replied.
Zach’s shoulders dropped, but he headed for the foyer. My mother followed, and I brought up the rear.
“Thanks for watching them tonight,” I told my mother.
“No problem at all. I’m glad we got to help Sean out with his decorations. I’ll wait for you in the car.” She kissed my cheek, then kissed Sean’s, and hustled the kids out to her vehicle.
I pulled my shoes on and ignored the press of Sean’s presence. He leaned on the wall opposite me, his long legs dominating my peripheral vision.
Finally, I stood and zipped my jacket. I gave him a bright smile. “Well. Goodnight!”
“Lizzie—” His voice was quiet, but it stopped me in my tracks. He glanced around the edge of the wall to check on Mikey, then turned to me. “About earlier…”
Nope. We were not doing this. It was humiliating enough to know that the erection hadn’t been caused by me, but by a random reaction of his body. I didn’t want to have to fumble my way through this conversation and possibly reveal the fact that I was desperately, hopelessly attracted to him.
The fact that I’d basically humped him from underneath him was mortifying enough as it was.
He’d made me remember far too many things that were better left buried. Like the touch of a man’s hand against my bare skin. Or the press of his cock against my opening. Or the tight, hot release of a strong orgasm.
He wasn’t for me. I couldn’t have him, and I wouldn’t torture myself by indulging thoughts about the impossible.
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” I said, waving a hand and affecting a casual laugh. “It happens. Night!”
If my cheeks were red when I got in my mother’s car, it was probably because of the cold.