Chapter 12 Walker
WALKER
What the hell is wrong with me?
One minute I’m making pancakes, and the next I’m a half second from stripping her clothes off and having her for breakfast.
Fuck.
“Breakfast first.” Lacey’s voice is teasing, and I have to drag my hands down my face and take a couple of deep breaths before I have some semblance of control.
“You’re way too tempting,” I tell her and watch as she looks down at herself with an amused expression. Her oversized sweater, leggings, and messy bun might as well be a mini dress and heels the way it’s got my dick hard.
Seriously, what happened to me?
I’ve had dry spells before and didn’t embarrass myself half as much as I am right now.
Sucking in a steadying breath, I grab a mug from the cabinet and pour her a cup of coffee.
“Thanks.” Her smile is bright, her face devoid of makeup, and she’s just so damn pretty I can’t help but staring.
Again.
“There’s peppermint mocha creamer in the fridge.” Pausing, I add, “And milk but nothing else. I wasn’t exactly expecting guests.”
“Ha-ha,” she deadpans, crossing the kitchen and pulling open the refrigerator door. “You have holiday edition creamer but no decorations up.” She tsks and I force myself to look around the open space.
“Again, I wasn’t exactly expecting company,”—I point at the garland draped over the mantel—“and that’s festive.”
“Where’s your tree?”
“Do you have one up in your apartment?” I toss back and she nods, cradling her mug and blowing on the liquid.
“It’s a small one that I have on my counter, but it still counts.”
“Hardly.”
Motioning toward the large front window, Lacey huffs. “You have the best place to put a tree! That’s prime real estate. If it wasn’t still snowing, I’d make you get dressed so we could go find a tree.”
“I have a fake one.”
“Where is it?”
“In the attic.”
“Can we put it up? Are there more decorations?”
I want to be mad that I offered the information so freely, but I can’t because Lacey is looking at me with an excitement that is contagious.
When was the last time I was excited about the holidays?
There isn’t a good answer to that question, but I don’t want to dwell on it. Even if things between Lacey and me last just as long as this snowstorm, I’m grateful for the spark she ignited in me again.
“Breakfast first.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“A little to the left!” Lacey calls again, making me curse under my breath as I try—and fail—to get this damn tree to sit level on the hardwood floors.
“I think you’re just messing with me.”
“Oh, stop being such a baby—you’re almost there.”
The last part has me muttering that’s what she said under my breath as I shove a thin piece of cardboard under the one side of the tree stand and crawl out from beneath the fake branches.
“Happy?” I grunt as I stand and glare at her.
“Almost.” Sneaking around the back of the tree, she plugs the lights in and jumps out with a flourish. “Ta-da!”
“Very nice.”
“Come on! It looks great!” She waves her hand at the tree that’s been sitting in my attic for the last couple of years. I think I only put it up one time, but it’s exactly like I remember.
Very fake.
Definitely lopsided.
But Lacey is looking at it like a band of woodland creatures offered it to us as the prized gift of Christmas.
She’s enamored—adorable—and for her sake, I can play along. “It was a good idea.”
“See? Just wait till we frost cookies and drink hot chocolate!”
“You turn into one of Santa’s elves in the last five minutes?” I chuckle because her enthusiasm is unmatched right now.
“Why? Does the thought of me in an elf costume turn you on?”
Well, hell, it does now…