Chapter 5
CELESTE
The sweats Leo gave me are soft and cozy. They’re also ridiculously large and smell like him - a mix of pine, fallen snow and the sweet spice of bourbon. I'm already warmer than I was, even if the fact that he saw my bare legs had my stomach flipping with nerves. And a little excitement.
His eyes had gone so instantly dark, and there was a hunger radiating from him that matched what I was feeling.
It made me want to run to him, test what his lips felt like.
It was exhilarating and terrifying. Because I'd never felt that way about a man before.
I'd dated, sure, but there'd never been an instant connection like this.
But Leo had turned his back, leaving me alone to get dressed. A hint of disappointment swirled through me, followed by a wave of relief. I had priorities - falling in love wasn't one of them.
When the big man appeared again, he was wearing a matching set of sweats, and I couldn't help but think about what a cute picture the two of us would make.
Dressed the same, like those family photos I'd seen, Christmas morning couples with their kids, all wearing the same printed pajamas, presents scattered around them as they smiled for the camera. Instagram perfect.
Not everyone had that kind of life. I knew that, rationally, and yet a part of me wished I had someone to take a photo like that. A memory of being part of something like a family.
Leo ambled over, grabbed a thick quilt from a basket and tucked it around me.
I was surprised when he settled onto the small couch beside me, then tapped his lap.
My mouth went dry as the very clear image of him holding me in his lap flared to life in my mind.
I could practically feel the warmth pouring from his chest, how his strong arms supported me, and the way his fingers glided across my skin in a gentle caress.
"Give me your feet." His clear command snapped me free of my thoughts, and I frowned at him, not understanding.
"My feet?" I looked down at them. They were bare, my wet socks stripped off and set by the fireplace to dry.
"Yes. Your feet. I'll warm them up."
He didn't move or shift, just sat there waiting expectantly, so I did as he said. As soon as my feet were in his lap, he adjusted the blanket so I was covered from nose to toes, and then his large hands wrapped around my right foot.
He kneaded the arch, warm fingers digging in and my head dropped back against the arm of the couch.
It was a stark contrast, the heat of his skin against the chill of mine, and yet the perfect pressure he was using made me relax.
I was putty in his hands, literally, and I yielded to the need to rest. My eyes drifted closed, and I moaned a little as he massaged a sore spot on the ball of my feet.
He seemed to freeze, but before I could muster enough thought to ask if he was okay, his fingers were moving again, and I was swept away on a tide of relaxation.
It was bliss. I wasn't asleep, just relaxed. And slowly, with every sweep and press of his fingers as he worked one foot and then the other, the pain I'd felt in them receded, warmth returning to my skin and spreading up my body.
Once he was satisfied with my feet, he began to work his way up my calves, sliding a little closer so he could support my legs without hurting my knees.
This couldn't be real. Not truly. What mountain man existed that rescued women and their Christmas gifts from stalled cars in a massive blizzard, and then offered a free massage in front of a roaring fire?
Maybe this was the magic of Christmas, working for me.
Though it occurred to me as I lay there, my body warm, my muscles releasing tension with every sure stroke of his fingers, that it didn't look like Christmas here.
There were no decorations, no gifts, no lights or tinsel - not even a tree.
I'd stumbled through a winter wood into a cabin that showed no signs of celebration.
The thought of celebration had me stirring, a memory of my earlier panic returning.
"I have to get the gifts delivered." I mumbled the words, surprised at the way they ran together, the dozed way they came out of my mouth.
"Shh," said Leo, and he didn't sound angry or stern, even. His voice was soothing, a comfortable deep rumble that made me relax once more. "We've got time. The storm will blow over soon."
I wanted to open my eyes, question him further, but I couldn't find the energy.
So, I gave in and let sleep take me over.