Chapter Eleven #2
“Inside?” Seth paused, and looked to the ceiling, then nodded his head a couple of times before making eye contact again, his clear blue eyes sparkling with a mixture of amusement and conspiratorial understanding.
“Well, there was one in the entrance. That one was about eight feet tall and was dripping with crystal snowflakes. The big one’s in the great room.
Twelve-to-fifteen-footer, easily. And then one in the living room.
It’s the only artificial one. All white.
Oh, and my mom likes having one in the library too. ”
“You can’t forget the library,” said Andrea, trying to act casual even though the idea that Seth grew up in a world where four Christmas trees was normal made her feel a bit itchy.
“I know,” Seth said, as though he could read her mind. “It’s ridiculous.”
“Well, at least I can feel confident that you have exposure to the Christmas tree decorating world,” Andrea said. “Shall we?”
They strung the lights first, and then one by one, Seth and Andrea extracted the ornaments from the cardboard box, affixed them to the little silver hooks she’d poured on the coffee table out of a Ziploc bag, then hung them at various levels on the branches of the tree.
Andrea caught Seth on a couple of occasions stepping back as though he were weighing where to place an ornament.
His attention to detail was actually quite adorable, and the way his Henley shirt clung to his torso made him very easy to look at.
“Cute,” Seth said, holding up a miniature diplodocus wearing a knitted sweater.
It was nice, having Seth there to decorate with her. The boxes with all of her parents’ Christmas decorations had lived in her condo storage unit for so many years. She hadn’t bothered to decorate at that time, given how much time she was spending at work, or at school.
The year she’d been with Harold, he’d been so insistent they’d spent the holidays at his place that even though a fresh Douglas fir would have looked so beautiful in her condo, it just hadn’t seemed worth it since she’d never be there to enjoy it.
Now, being with Seth, the nostalgia of her childhood mixed with the perfection of the man on the other side of the tree—it was idyllic in a way she didn’t know what to do with.
After about ten minutes, they reached the bottom of the box, and Seth handed Andrea the sparkly gold star topper.
She pushed the ottoman over closer to the tree, stepped up on it, then reached up and placed the star on the spindly top branch.
“Okay,” she said, accepting Seth’s hand to help her down. A spark of energy shot through her at the firmness of his grip and the warmth of his skin. The presence of his calluses reminded her that this was a man who worked a ranch. “Will you do the honors?”
Seth smiled, and Andrea’s stomach bottomed out. “Happy to,” he said. He took the end of the electrical cord in his hand, then plugged it into the socket nearest to the tree.
The vintage lights filled the space with a warm glow, and Andrea felt a lump forming in her throat, memories of her childhood Christmases flooding into her mind.
“What do you think?” Seth asked.
We’d better find something else to decorate, Andrea thought. “Looks nice,” she said instead.
Seth motioned to the other unopened boxes. “What else can we do? Might as well keep on going.”
Andrea opened the second box, which had a table runner, a snow globe and, wrapped in paper towels, all the individual pieces of the Christmas village set she’d collected over the years. “What do you think?” she said. “Have you had it with small towns yet?”
“They’re my favorite kind,” Seth said.
They pulled out each individual piece, and arranged them on the mantel, considering the placement of the different structures.
“The general store should go in the middle,” said Seth. “People think town halls are the most important. But the store is really the hub.”
“Agreed,” said Andrea. “And the library should really tie for center stage.”
“Don’t forget the coffee shop,” said Seth.
“Oh wait,” Andrea said. She rummaged through the cardboard both, then extracted the little extra piece and set it in front. “The specials board.”
“And look at that,” said Seth. “It’s advertising apple cider.”
He was so close that Andrea could make out the slightest hint of stubble on his smooth skin. The small cleft in his jaw.
She wanted him. Badly.
For a moment, she allowed the fantasy to play out in her mind. Seth’s arms around her again, this time with no one else around. His lips on hers, bodies pressed together in his firm embrace. A whole night with no interruptions.
But then what? She was finally in a place, after two terrible years, where she felt strong and independent and like herself again.
She had quite literally changed her life after the rug was pulled out from under her.
Was she really going to sacrifice that feeling of self--sufficiency, of unfettered independence, just because of a raging crush on the first attractive man she’d met since moving to town?
She needed to play the long game. The safe game. The all-about-Andrea game.
But with his smoldering gaze, broad shoulders and whatever the hell type of cologne that had invaded her space—well, he sure wasn’t making it easy.
“You okay?” Seth said, a glint of interest in his eyes.
Andrea nodded, although she was very much not okay. She was under Seth’s spell, and even her fierce determination and self-control really had no defense for the perfection of the man in front of her, and the pleasure she was certain he’d give to her if she gave in.
“You sure? You seem a little…distant.”
And she was, as distant as possible under the circumstances.
But when Seth shifted from where he was standing, and plucked the miniature easel from her hand, the swift brush of warm skin on warm skin igniting a cascade of pleasure that whispered from her hand right down to her core, the crack deepened, and Andrea knew that no matter what kind of bargaining that was going on in her brain, her body now was in full control. And it was time for her to give in.
She opened her mouth to deny once again the feelings that Seth was so observantly picking up on.
But just as she was able to tell him the truth, that she was indeed scared, because of how much she wanted him and how much that desire threatened to undo her, the lights cut out, and the room was blanketed in darkness.
“Did we blow a fuse?” she asked. She blinked, trying to adjust to the darkness, but it was pitch black.
“I think it’s the storm,” said Seth. “Do you have a backup generator?”
Andrea shook her head, but then realized he couldn’t see her.
“No,” she said. “I was planning on getting one but haven’t gotten around to it yet.
” Add it to the list of the six hundred other things she needed to do over the next while.
This one, however, might move up to the top of the list. She slipped her phone out of her pocket and turned on the flashlight.
“I’ve got some actual flashlights in the kitchen cabinet,” she said. “I’ll grab them.”
Seth turned his phone light on too and she could see him nodding toward the fireplace. “I’ll get a fire going.”
She was about to say no, that she’d take care of it, as the host, but there was something about the way he said it, not that he thought he was the only one who could do it, but because he wanted to be helpful, to contribute.
“Thanks,” Andrea said. “Matches are in that silver tin on the mantel.”
She left Seth arranging firewood in the living room and retreated to the kitchen, the phone lighting her way although her new home was already so familiar to her, she could have navigated it in the dark.
What was much less familiar, however, was sharing the space with another person.
Not only was Seth staying overnight, but now they were without power.
When she returned to the living room with her large flashlight, which, luckily, had fresh batteries, she realized they wouldn’t need it in that space. Seth had been successful in starting a small but glowing fire that bathed the space in warm, flickering light.
“Nice work,” Andrea said. She perched on one of the single chairs, watching as Seth added some newspaper to the base of the flames, then used the fire poker to adjust the placement of the logs. “Boy Scout?”
He turned and grinned, the sharpness of his jawline lit up by the dancing flames. “Taylor,” he said. “My dad was pretty big on us all learning some basic life skills. Start a fire. Change a tire. File taxes.” He poked the fire again. “Deal with an egomaniac.”
Andrea raised an eyebrow. “A life skill, to be sure.” Although the one she’d dealt with she was able to scrub from her life.
She knew very well that Seth was talking about his dad, and clearly, things were complicated.
What was worse? Losing a parent before their time, or a lifetime with one who didn’t feel like a parent at all?
Either way, hearing Seth say it caused a pang of sympathy.
Part of her wanted to probe further, see if he wanted to talk about things.
The other part of her knew that opening that door might add to the intimacy of the evening.
The type of intimacy that would lead to greater closeness and stoke the flame of attraction that was already burning brighter than the flames in the fireplace.
“I’m going to bring down some duvets from upstairs,” she said. “The couches are pretty comfortable. And way better than sleeping in a freezing bedroom.”
* * *
Seth knew very well there wasn’t a lick of sleep in his future.
Someone had to keep the fire going through the night, and he wasn’t going to let it be Andrea.
Never mind being in the same space as her.
“Need any help?” he asked. She shook her head, her soft, shiny hair glistening in the light of the crackling flames.