Chapter Twenty-nine
Christmas Eve at the bar normally flew by in a blink because they were always busy, but that day felt like one annoyance after another, and the day just dragged on.
Other than the hour that Charlie sat at the bar anyway.
Charlie’s knowing smile elevated Harper’s heart rate every time their eyes met as she slowly sipped her mischievous mistletoe mule, Harper’s holiday take on the classic.
She took the normal mule recipe and added cranberry juice and a couple sprigs of rosemary, with a few fresh cranberries to make it feel more festive.
Harper thought it was surprisingly refreshing, and Charlie seemingly agreed as she had two while she blatantly stared at Harper.
Not that Harper minded. Feeling Charlie’s eyes on her as she made drinks nonstop was hot as hell, really. Her skin prickled the entire time, and Harper was counting down the minutes until they could be alone together.
Dean Martin’s “Let It Snow” greeted her at seven forty-seven when she pulled open her apartment door, along with the mouthwatering scent of an apple cider doughnut candle.
She was so dazzled by the holiday festival that seemed to have exploded in her living room—from the Christmas tree to the stockings hanging on the TV stand to the mistletoe dangling from ceiling fans and every doorway—that she nearly missed Charlie standing in the middle of the room in a sexy red silk robe while holding two champagne flutes.
“Merry Christmas Eve,” Charlie said with a huge smile on her face.
Harper’s smile had to be at least as large as she said, “Merry Christmas Eve, but I thought you were going to do a little decorating.”
“Oh shit, did I do too much?”
Her smile started to slip, so Harper closed the gap between them and said, “Absolutely not. This is perfect. I love it.” She took the flute, swirled it, and sniffed.
“A poinsettia?” Charlie nodded as Harper wrapped her arm around her waist and took a sip.
“I know I’m the mixologist, but this is pretty damn good. ”
“I am a woman of many talents.” Charlie threaded her now free hand into Harper’s hair and pulled her closer for a kiss.
“Clearly.” Their kiss was short, but she needed to know. “How did you get all this done in such a short period of time? And how did you get that tree in here? And after you spent an hour in the bar too?”
Charlie laughed. “Well, I was at the store, and there was just Christmas stuff everywhere, so I bought everything that was cute. And the tree…well, I paid a lovely gentleman at the Southernmost Christmas Tree Stand a smallish amount of cash to drive it here, bring it inside, and put it in the tree stand.”
“Wow. Did you have him decorate it too?” The notion was a little funny, but Harper didn’t really care either way because the feel of Charlie’s skin, separated from her fingertips by only the silkiest of fabrics, was beyond distracting. She pulled Charlie even closer.
“Nope, that was all me.” Dean Martin morphed into Sam Smith’s “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and just like that, she and Charlie were spontaneously swaying to the music.
“I love this.” Harper hadn’t been planning to say it until the words were coming out of her mouth, but it was entirely true.
“Me too,” Charlie whispered into her neck. She grazed her teeth across the spot where Harper’s neck met her shoulder, and her knees started to buckle.
“Easy there.”
“Who? Me?” Charlie leaned back until she could see Harper’s face.
“We’re trying to share a PG-rated dance here.”
“I think we might be more like in PG-13 movie right now if the MPA were to pay attention to how much of our bodies are touching. And honestly, I’m aiming for R.
” She ran her index finger from the bottom of Harper’s throat down to the top of her Scissor and Gavel V-neck shirt and back and forth along the collar, tugging downward just enough that Harper’s mind struggled to stay on task.
“But…we still have drinks to enjoy. And…”
“And what?” Charlie chuckled.
Harper squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to focus past the sensation of Charlie’s finger grazing the top of her bra cup, which felt like a Herculean task in that moment. “Um, and Franky probably needs to go out.”
“Nope. I took her out about twenty minutes ago, so she should be good.”
Harper couldn’t think anymore. She’d have loved to check out all the Christmas decorations, but that was going to have to wait until tomorrow. She tipped her head back and downed the poinsettia in less than three gulps.
She took a full step back and held out her hand to Charlie.
“I didn’t realize this was a chugging drink.” Charlie laughed as she spoke. “But I’m game.” She downed the rest of hers. “Ready?”
Rather than answer in words, Harper took her hand and led them down the hallway toward her bedroom, but it also felt like heading toward the rest of their lives together.