One Christmas Eve

by Shannon Stacey

  Maybe he’d gotten the message in the book she’d delivered to his office. A fun fling, with no strings attached. If that was what was going on, she didn’t have to worry about him thinking she was yet another woman who’d gotten bored with him, and she also didn’t have to worry that he was in the market for a wife.

  When he looked up from his menu and saw her walking toward him, his entire face lit up and she stopped caring about anything but this moment. She didn’t need to be like him and plan for future problems. Right now, everything was good.

  “Sorry it took me so long,” she said as she slid into the chair across from him. “I had a couple of boxes to throw in my car.”

  “I would have helped you, you know.”

  “I know.” But the idea of him sitting in her apartment while she showered had been too much. She hadn’t been sure they’d leave her apartment at all, and the man needed some holiday spirit in his home. “But they weren’t heavy and you have that hangover and all.”

  He blushed lightly and held the menu up in front of his face, which made her laugh. “I’m feeling much better, thank you. And food will help, though I have no idea what to get. I want a little of everything.”

  By the time the server appeared with a coffee for Zoe and her order pad, they’d decided they could, in fact, get a little of everything. She ordered blueberry pancakes with real maple syrup, and he got the farm breakfast with eggs, bacon, sausage, home fries and toast. They were going to group the plates toward the middle and share it all.

  “Tell me about your family,” she said when they were alone. “You talked about your parents and growing up military at Thanksgiving, but where are they now? Are you an only child?”

  “My parents are making their way toward California right now. They’ve always wanted to see Christmas in Hawaii and since they’ll be on that side of the country, this is the year. And I’m an only child.”

  “Me, too. But I had Carly and Noah during the summer, so it was almost like having part-time siblings.”

  “And your parents?”

  She shrugged, belatedly realizing that asking about his family also opened the door to him asking about hers. “They live in western New York still.”

  “Do you see them often?”

  “No.” She fiddled with her silverware, lining them up on the napkin. “They really liked my ex-husband and were less supportive of me than they could have been during my divorce.”

  “I’m sorry. That must have been hard.”

  The sincerity in his voice touched her, and she reached across the table to rest her hand on his arm. The muscle in his forearm flexed under her touch, and she lightly trailed her fingertips over his skin. “I’m usually okay with it. Not to repeat myself, but I have Carly and Noah. And Granddad. He’s one hundred percent Team Zoe all the time.”

  Preston smiled. “His face changes when he talks about you and Carly. You guys are definitely the light of his life.”

  They talked about her childhood summers then, pausing only when the food was delivered. He talked about growing up in the Air Force and what it was like to be the new kid in school so often. Even after their empty plates had been cleared, they lingered, having another cup of coffee.

  It was nice, she thought. The unrushed, shared breakfast. His company. When they first met, she never would have guessed it could be this way, but she would have been content to while away the day with him at the Cedar Street Café.

  Except for the fact she’d rather be sharing a bed with him right now than sharing a table.

  And he was sober now. If he had regrets in the morning, they’d be his own damn fault.

  She thought she might have second thoughts as she followed the BMW back to his house. Jitters, at least. She’d only been with one guy since Ben, shortly before she decided to move here, and that had been an ill-advised and largely unsatisfactory attempt to get that first post-divorce date out of the way.

  But even as she pulled her car into the driveway behind Preston’s and killed the engine, she didn’t feel anything but delicious anticipation.

  “Let me carry those boxes,” Preston was saying as she got out of her car.

  Boxes?

  Oh, right. She’d grabbed some Christmas stuff because they were here to decorate his house for the holidays. But it wouldn’t take long. A tiny tree. Some garland and an electric candle in the window and they could call it good.

  “I do have my own Christmas decorations, you know,” he said as he set the second box on the table.

  “Are they gray?”

  “No.” He held the eye contact with her for several seconds before looking away with a sheepish smile. “They’re silver. And white.”

  “That sounds very...” The sentence trailed away as she tried to find the right word.

  “Boring?” he asked, and she saw the shadow cross his expression.

  “I was going to say elegant. Or sophisticated.” She shrugged as she pulled up the flaps on the first box. “White lights have such a beautiful glow about them. Like a crisp winter day.”

  “Yes.”

  She was happy to see his smile reach his eyes, but then his expression gave way to horror. “What the hell is that?”

  Laughing, she held up the green ceramic Christmas tree that was a little over a foot tall. “This is a staple of Christmases past. You plug it in and all the little colored bulbs light up.”

  “I thought you’d probably drape some red garland over my curtain rod and maybe put a candle in the window or something.”

  “This is the ultimate Christmas decoration,” she insisted. “Trust me, you’ll feel more festive.”

  “In case you can’t tell from my face, I’m skeptical.”

  Rather than debate the charm of the old ceramic tree, she walked over to the end table closest to the living room window, which she knew had an outlet, and plugged it in. Then she pulled the curtains closed, which didn’t totally block out the sun, but at least let the tiny bulbs shine a little.

  “It is cute,” he admitted after a moment. “And cheerful.”

  “Told you so.” She went back to the box and pulled out a length of red garland, which she held up for his inspection.

  “That looks like one of those feather things women wear around their necks.”

  “A feather boa?” She draped it around her neck and then tossed an end over the opposite shoulder while cocking her hip in an exaggerated way.

  He laughed, walking toward her. “That suits you.”

  She spun the end in slow circles, trying to ignore the tiny red metallic pieces that fell off and drifted to the floor. The garland was probably as old as she was, and it wasn’t intended to be apparel.

  When he snagged the end of the garland and used it to pull her close, Zoe sucked in a breath, then let it out on a breathless laugh.

  “You didn’t seem surprised to see me this morning,” she said. “So I assume you have some memories from last night.”

  “You were the first thing I thought about when I opened my eyes.” He let go of the garland and put his hands on her hips. “But that’s not unusual for me.”

  She melted when the meaning of his words sank in. It seemed he spent as much time thinking about her as she spent thinking about him. “You’re one hell of a kisser, I must say.”

  He grinned, his eyes on her mouth. “Does that surprise you?”

  “Mostly I’m just wondering if you kiss that well when you’re sober.”

  His fingertips bit into her hips. “I’m sober now, so maybe we should try it again and see.”

  She cupped the back of his neck as she rose onto her toes, and his lips met hers. It was a gentle kiss at first, almost tentative, but as she leaned into him, he increased the pressure.

  When his tongue dipped into her mouth, she bunched the fabric of his shirt in her hands and worked it up until
she was touching his bare skin. She stroked his back, occasionally scraping lightly with her fingernails. His hands were in her hair, cradling her head as his kiss grew more demanding.

  She wanted to be naked. She wanted him to be naked. Breaking off the kiss, Zoe backed away enough to pull her shirt off and toss it before going to work on his buttons. His skin was as flushed as hers felt, and as she slid the shirt off his shoulders so she could run her hands over his bare chest, he groaned.

  “You should show me your bedroom,” she told him, impatient to lose the clothes. “I have a betting pool in my head on what shade of gray your comforter is.”

  Laughing, he took her hand and with their fingers loosely intertwined, walked to his bedroom. “You’re going to lose.”

  “You don’t know which shade I bet on.”

  When they reached the bedroom, he stood behind her—hands on her waist—and kissed the back of her neck. “See?”

  “Blue plaid?” She laughed as his arms wrapped around her and his hands cupped her breasts. “But you’re right. It’s not gray.”

  Through the fabric of her bra, his thumbs rubbed over her nipples and it seemed as if the touch sent waves through her entire body. His mouth left a trail of kisses from her hairline to her bra strap before he slid the thin strap down her shoulder.

  As much as she liked the feel of his warmth against her back, she wanted more. Turning in his arms, she reached up and undid the clasp of her bra so it could slide free and hit the floor.

  Preston sucked in a breath. “You’re beautiful, Zoe. So damn beautiful.”

  She was smiling as she kissed him, and then she moaned against his mouth as he caught her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers. When she reached between their bodies to undo his fly, he pinched harder and she gasped.

  They moved toward the bed, shedding their remaining clothes, until they were finally naked. Sprawled across the blue plaid comforter, she pulled him down for a long, lingering kiss while her hands explored his body. She loved the way the muscles in his back flexed under her touch, and she especially loved the curve of his ass.

  He bit gently at her bottom lip before kissing her jaw. The side of her neck. Then his mouth closed over her nipple and she buried her fingers in his hair as his tongue drew hot, wet circles on her flesh. Then he sucked hard and she raised her hips against his.

  As his attention shifted to her other breast, he pressed down on her hip with one hand to give him space to slide his fingers between her legs. There was no fabric this time, and his fingertips glided easily over her slick flesh. He pressed hard against her clit as his teeth nipped at her nipple and she groaned, raking her fingernails over his back.

  Then he slid a finger inside of her and the delicious sensations of his hand against her clit and his mouth on her breast sent waves of pleasure through her body.

  Maybe he’ll...

  Zoe forced the thought away. She could ask him—tell him what she wanted—but the ghost of rejections past lingered in the shadows of her mind and she wasn’t going to risk Preston turning away from her. She was enjoying this moment and she would keep on enjoying it.

  “I want you now,” she said, her voice breathless.

  He moaned around her nipple, the sound vibrating her flesh, and then he raised his head so he could look down at her. His hand stayed between her legs, though, his finger circling her clit in a soft, slow way that made her unable to focus on anything but that touch and the heat in his eyes.

  “Right now?” he asked, one eyebrow arching as he increased the pressure on her clit.

  Ask him.

  She couldn’t. Instead, she trailed one hand down his stomach and then slowly slid her fist down his erection. As she stroked the hard length of him, he sucked in a breath and dropped his forehead to hers. He trembled slightly when she circled the moist tip with her thumb, and then stroked the length again.

  “Now’s good,” he said in a raspy voice, and then he rolled away from her to reach for his bedside drawer.

  Zoe embraced the anticipation as he rolled on the condom and then moved between her thighs. She was so ready for him, and her fingernails pressed into his upper arms as he slowly worked his length into her, filling her more deeply with each slow stroke.

  “Zoe.” Her name on his lips thrilled her and she ran her hands down his back until she could feel the muscles in his ass working as he moved.

  He groaned and slid his hand up the back of her thigh until he caught behind her knee and lifted her leg higher. Zoe clutched at his forearms as he thrust harder and deeper into her.

  She lost all sense of anything but the feel of Preston’s body moving over her, in her, and she ran her hands over every part of him she could reach. His thrusts quickened and then his hand was there, his thumb brushing over her clit.

  The orgasm rocked her and she bit down on her lip to keep from yelling out. Her hands fisted the sheets as her hips arched against his. He drove into her until the tremors passed and then he said her name again in a low voice before finding his own release.

  When he collapsed on top of her, his face buried in her neck, she stroked his back, loving the feel of his muscles twitching up. He kissed her, just below her ear, and she shivered.

  She should get up, she thought when they’d caught their breath and their bodies were relaxing. She should go pee and clean up, and then get dressed. Maybe finish decorating his living room. Or maybe go. She wasn’t sure what the vibe was yet, but she hoped there was more decorating and less leaving.

  “You were right,” he murmured against her skin.

  “Of course I was.” She trailed her fingernails lazily over his back. “About what, though?”

  “I’m definitely feeling more festive.”

  “Wait until we get to the second box.”

  “Mm?” The questioning sound tickled her skin. “Hand-painted gingerbread house? Crocheted candy cane? I draw the line at clumps of that shredded tinsel stuff, though.”

  “I bet I could make you like it.”

  He was silent for a few seconds, and then he lifted his head to look at her. “Um, you know that stuff can give you tiny little paper cuts, right?”

  “Just what do you think I’m going to do with that tinsel?”

  When he laughed so hard he made both of their bodies shake, she laughed along with him, and she had to admit she was feeling pretty festive, too. There were worse ways to spend a day than hanging out with a naked man with a sense of humor.

  * * *

  Preston had to circle the block twice before he found a place to park thanks to the town taking advantage of the slow month to do maintenance. There were trucks and cones everywhere. As he parallel parked the BMW in one of the few open spots, he thought of the photos of the town he’d pulled up on the internet while researching locations. Come summer he was going to have to leave extra time to get to the office because not only was finding a parking spot going to become an extreme sport—which he’d regularly played in Boston—but the number of tourists on foot and the number of crosswalks would mean a lot of low-speed stop and go.

  As it was, he had a bit of a walk to his office, in the direction that took him past the Cedar Street Books window.

  In the week since Abe’s party, Zoe had spent three nights at his place and two nights ago, she’d jumped out of bed to find her phone and write herself a note about the upcoming window display. Fortunately for his ego, they hadn’t been making love at the time. But he couldn’t wait to see what she and Carly had come up with.

  Some kind of sheer white fabric draped on rods thwarted him, though. And the chalkboard easel had been set between the drapes and the glass. New display coming today! Keep checking back! At the bottom was their Instagram address, presumably for the people who didn’t have offices next door and therefore the opportunity to check the window in person several times a day.

  She was
still working on it, and he could make out her silhouette through the sheers. He stepped closer to the glass. He knew it was her and not Carly because Carly was taller and didn’t have all the lush curves Zoe did.

  As if she could sense that she was being watched, her head lifted and her sexy silhouette grew larger until her face poked out from between two panels. She grinned when he craned his neck as if trying to see the window in progress behind her.

  “Let me peek,” he mouthed, and she shook her head before blowing him a kiss and disappearing back behind the curtain.

  He was whistling a Christmas tune as he unlocked his door and as it closed behind him, he caught himself and stopped moving for a few seconds to let the moment sink in.

  I’m so happy.

  It wasn’t the kind of self-awareness he was usually struck by, so he soaked it in.

  Word of mouth had new inquiries coming in all the time. He’d never make what he could have made in Boston, but he’d make a nice living in a far less stressful environment. The house he was renting suited him, especially with its current festive decorating scheme, and in a year or so, he’d start looking at buying a home. His parents were happy and well.

  And Zoe. Having her in his life elevated a happy, satisfying existence to a bold and colorful life full of joy and really great sex. He had a gorgeous, sexy, funny woman and she loved books.

  He chuckled, almost unable to believe this was actually his life, before bending over to collect the mail that had been shoved through the mail slot in the door. The mail carrier who handled the downtown area didn’t waste time in the mornings and more often than not, Preston’s mail arrived before he did.

  One of the padded envelopes was unmarked, though, and he set the other mail on his desk to look it over. Sealed, but nothing written on the envelope itself. Not even his name, so it hadn’t come through the mail.

  But it felt like a small paperback book, and he smiled as he unsealed the package and pulled it out.

  There was only one sticky note in the book this time, and he already knew he’d be too impatient to read the entire book because of the words printed on the sticky note in small black letters.