CHAPTER EIGHT
HOLLY
I pull on dark jeans and my warm brown boots, then dig through my closet until I find the red sweater with the light-up Rudolph nose I found in a thrift store over the summer.
My puffy white coat, a matching knit hat with a pom-pom the size of a snowball, and my reindeer earrings finish the look.
There’s no second-guessing today. I know exactly who I am and exactly how I want to look, even if “exactly how I want to look” means I'm basically a walking ornament.
It is the season and I celebrate it fully.
Merlin is busy snoozing on the bed in a compact circle of pure black fur. I still feel the need to inform him of where I’m going.
“I’ll be out at the Christmas market with James,” I tell him, checking my reflection once and feeling giddy and happy. Last night went incredibly well. Other than me dinging his car, that is. But that was a silly little accident, and James took it in stride.
He surprised me plenty yesterday and I think he might have surprised himself as well. Which were both good things.
“And today's going to be good too.”
The doorbell rings and I give Merlin a fast smooch on his head before I take off down the stairs and open the door to James, who looks amazingly casual and handsome in dark jeans, a navy peacoat, and a gray scarf.
His hair is slightly mussed from the wind, and the skin around his blue eyes crinkles merrily when he smiles.
“You look beautiful,” he says, holding out a small potted poinsettia plant for me.
I bite down on my lip and wince. “Thanks, but I can’t keep that.”
The smile leaves James' face. “Why?”
Right on cue, Merlin strolls to the door and meows up at him.
I gesture down. “This is Merlin. Poinsettias are toxic to cats.”
“Oh, well, we can’t have that, can we, buddy?” James crouches down and holds the plant behind his back as he runs his other hand over the cat’s sleek head. Merlin purrs before trying to dart out the door.
Thankfully, James has amazing reflexes and blocks him.
Scooping up my cat, I stride away with the squirming Merlin and toss over my shoulder, “I’ll be right back!”
I dump a few treats on the kitchen floor for Merlin and then dash out of the kitchen, motioning for James to go as I pull the front door shut behind us and lock it. “Woo! That was close. Thanks for stopping him.”
“Absolutely, no lost cats on my watch.”
As we walk out to his car, my eyes go right to the dent and the incriminating blue paint. “Sorry about that… and the plant.”
He waves that off, opening the passenger door for me. “It’s fine. You need to forget about it. As for the plant, it will look great at the office.”
The drive to downtown Dover takes fifteen minutes. James’ Mercedes is clean and well-maintained, exactly what I'd expect from him, unlike my messy SUV. What I don’t expect is when he keeps one hand on the wheel and the other reaches over to hold mine, his thumb tracing slow circles on my skin.
Heat immediately blooms in my middle and I press my thighs tighter together.
The problem with having great sex is that it makes you want more.
And James touching me has the effect of making me want to do a bit of touching of my own.
It’s very tempting to lean over, cup him between the legs, stroke his dick and make him squirm the way he’s unconsciously making me.
“How’s your morning been?” he asks, his gaze leaving the road for a moment.
Swallowing hard, I force the thoughts that would get me on Santa’s naughty list out of my head. “Good and boring. Just getting caught up on dishes and laundry.”
“Those never-ending tasks. I did a bit of cleaning myself after my run.”
Now that is interesting. “You clean? You run?”
His chuckle is smooth and deep, and it has my thighs clenching again.
“Why do you sound so surprised? Gotta stay in shape, and while not great on the joints, running is good for cardiovascular fitness. It strengthens your heart, improves circulation, and lowers blood pressure.”
“Tell me you’re a heart doctor without telling me you are,” I tease.
James grins and asks, “Do you run, Holly?”
That makes me laugh. “Do I look like I run?”
His fingers release mine and drop to my thigh, giving it a squeeze. “You have amazing legs, so I would say yes.”
Why did I say I wouldn’t hop back into bed with this man? I’m tempted to tell him to turn the car around and go back to my place. But no, we rushed into sex, and I want more than that from him, even if my pussy is begging for his touch.
“The legs are from all the standing I do at the shop.”
“Well, I approve.”
He leaves his hand there and I feel its warm weight the entire drive.
The Christmas market is in full swing when we arrive.
Thankfully the snow last night ended before I even got home so the market wasn’t canceled.
The town square has been transformed into a winter wonderland.
Rows of white tents line the perimeter, each decorated with lights and festive green garlands.
A massive Christmas tree dominates the center of the square, at least thirty feet tall, covered in thousands of colored lights.
The cool, crisp air smells of cinnamon, pine, and hot chocolate, and everywhere I look there are people bundled up against the cold with pink cheeks and warm smiles.
“This is amazing,” James says, looking around with what might be wonder. “I don’t know why I’ve never come before.”
“Right? I love it. I’ve been coming for years. How long have you lived in the area that you’ve never been?” I seize his hand and tug him toward the first row of vendors. “Come on, we have to see everything.”
“Ten years,” James says as we wander from tent to tent.
“Well, you’re here now, so let’s enjoy.”
He has a small smile on his face as I point out things I love and gush over a set of hand-painted wooden ornaments shaped like vintage campers.
As he examines one of the cute ornaments, he asks, “Do you camp?”
“I don’t, but the movie The Long, Long Trailer is a favorite of mine. And these remind me of it!”
James looks perfectly confused. “I can’t say I’ve ever heard of that movie.”
I pull him to the next vendor. “Oh, most people haven’t. It’s from the fifties and stars Lucy and Desi.” Turning to him, I plant my fists on my hips in mock exasperation. “Please tell me you know who Lucy is, or maybe this relationship isn’t going to work after all.”
“The only Lucy I can think of is from I Love Lucy-”
Pushing up on my tiptoes, I cut off the rest of his words with a kiss. Which was a mistake because once my lips touch his, the idea of it being a fast and playful smooch flies right out the window. James evidently feels the same as his hands grip my arms and his lips move over mine.
The tip of his tongue sweeps along the crease of my lips. I’m just angling my head when we get bumped from behind. Our mouths separate but James keeps his hold on my arms as his brilliant blue eyes look deeply into mine.
He doesn’t say a word. That look is enough. He’s as hungry for me as I am for him.
We move on, hand in hand, strolling through the market. He buys us both hot chocolates, the sweet warmth perfect for the cold afternoon.
At a tent selling blown glass ornaments, I stop to admire a beautiful blue and silver swirl, holding it up to catch the light.
“You should get it,” James urges.
I shake my head, already setting it back down. “I have so many ornaments.”
“So what’s one more?”
“You’re terrible,” I say, not meaning it.
James plants his feet in front of the table. “How many trees do you have?”
“Two.”
His eyebrow goes up, and I laugh.
“Okay, maybe I have four. But one is in the shop, so that doesn’t really count.”
Both eyebrows dip low over his piercing eyes. “So you’re telling me you couldn’t possibly fit another ornament on any of your four-”
“Three.”
“-Four trees?”
I link my arm through his and tug him towards the next booth. “You are a horrible influence!”
He smiles down at me. “Nonsense, I’m simply getting into the holiday spirit.”
We keep moving through the market, stopping to have a cake pop and pausing to watch a group of performers in matching red and white striped scarves belt out “Deck the Halls” with more enthusiasm than skill.
At some point James slips away from my side, telling me he’ll be right back, and when he reappears with a faint flush on his cheeks, he holds something out to me.
Taking the tissue-wrapped gift, I unwrap it and see the blue and silver ornament I had been admiring earlier.
I gaze up at him as emotion fills me. “You didn't have to do that.”
His smile grows. “Of course I didn’t have to, I wanted to. I figured you could find the room on one of those trees. Or maybe invest in a fifth one.”
I tuck the ornament carefully into my purse, my throat a little tight. It’s such a small thing, yet so meaningful. “Thank you,” I whisper.
“You’re welcome.”
James twines his fingers with mine and we're heading toward another row of vendors when I hear it.
“Holly Jolly!”
I freeze. No. Please no. Not now.