Her hands went straight to the button of his pants. “Now, about this mistletoe tie...”
His brain short-circuited for a few seconds when he realized her intentions. He really wanted to talk about the mistletoe tie. But he took hold of her wrists as she unzipped his fly. “Zoe, you don’t have to.”
“Oh, I want to.” She looked up at him, her mouth curved into a naughty smile. “I’ve wanted to since we met, but I promised myself that from now on, a man would only get what he gave and...damn, you can give.”
She kept busy as she spoke, so by the time Preston had a chance to respond, his very hard dick was in her hands and he totally forgot what he was going to say.
Zoe scooted forward slightly on the couch and then her mouth closed over him. Her mouth was hot and wet and it took every single ounce of self-control he had not to grab her by the hair and thrust himself hard between her lips.
“You’re tall,” she murmured, and he realized she was stretching a lot to reach him.
Before his addled brain could come up with a solution, she stood and pushed him down on the couch, sliding his pants and boxers down his thighs as he settled with his head on the padded leather arm.
Then she was leaning over him and her mouth was on him again. He gathered her hair in his fist—wanting to keep it out of her way and to be able to see—and she took his length over and over, pausing to run her tongue in teasing circles over the tip.
Then her hand gripped his shaft, squeezing, and the sight and feel of her lips meeting her curled fingers was almost enough to send him over the edge. But he resisted, wanting to savor the sensation of her mouth and her hand for as long as he could hold out.
But when her grip tightened, the strokes lubricated by her mouth as she took him deep against her throat, and then she splayed out her fingers to sweep over his balls when her hand reached the base of his dick, he was done for.
He groaned as he came, pumping in her mouth, some part of his brain praying he wasn’t pulling too hard on the hair wrapped in his fist. She swallowed and licked until his hand relaxed in her hair and then, after trailing her tongue a final time up his length, she stretched out on the couch next to him and he wrapped his arms around her as he kissed the top of her head.
Cuddled on her couch, with his pants around his thighs and her dress bunched around her waist, he couldn’t think of a single time in his life he’d ever been happier.
I am so in love with you, Zoe.
The words were there, desperate to be said, but he didn’t give voice to the emotion. He knew she had feelings for him, but he wasn’t sure she was ready for their relationship to change yet.
She was so happy and content, she was almost liquid in his arms, and he didn’t want to say anything that could cast a shadow over this night. He’d hold her. Kiss her hair. Maybe get to spend the night in her bed.
For now, he’d just silently feel the words. I love you.
Chapter Ten
Zoe’s favorite place was cuddled up against Preston on his couch. Her couch also worked, but his was a lot more comfortable and his television was definitely bigger than hers.
They were making cookies for holiday baskets and watching Christmas movies. Earlier that morning, once they’d rolled out of his bed—where she’d slept the last few nights—she’d helped him wrap the gifts he’d bought for his parents. Most of them he was saving for their post-Christmas visit, but he was shipping a couple of small things to Hawaii, in care of the resort they’d chosen, so they’d have something from him on Christmas Day.
When her phone chimed, she wasn’t surprised to see a text from Carly. Even with holiday shoppers, November would be as slow as it got before the ski area opened, so they were each taking extra days off before the true last-minute shopping panic started.
Crap. Did you order that Anne of Green Gables box set Carol wants for her granddaughter?
Yes and I ordered an extra to have in stock. She’d just hit send when she realized she hadn’t set the timer on the oven.
“Shit, the cookies.” Dropping her phone on the couch, she sprinted to the oven and yanked open the door. “Okay, so they’re going to be crunchy chocolate chip cookies. Some people like those.”
She was expecting a smart-ass response from Preston, who liked to tease her about her lack of cooking skills. Baked macaroni and cheese excepted, of course. But there was silence from the couch and after setting the cookie sheet on the stove and closing the oven door, she glanced over.
Preston was standing, facing her, and something was wrong. “Preston?”
“You dropped your phone on the couch.”
“I know. I was afraid the cookies were burning.”
“You didn’t put it to sleep first.” He swallowed so hard, she could see his throat working from across the room. “When you’re texting somebody, the previous texts show until they scroll off the screen.”
She didn’t get what he was trying to say. She’d responded to Carly’s text about the special order. What had they been talking about before that? What was the last text she sent her cousin?
You’re the one who suggested a no-strings fling to work the sexual tension out of my system. It was good advice, so I’m following it. Eat your steak.
“No.” She started toward him, but when he turned away, she stopped.
“I can’t do this, Zoe. I can’t do this with you while waiting for the day it’s out of your system—for the day you decide you’re bored now.” His voice cracked a bit on the last few words, and he cleared his throat as he turned back to her. “I’m not going to get you out of my system. I’m falling in love with you and it’s too fast and it doesn’t make any sense, but I am. And I...can’t do this fling thing with you.”
“I didn’t mean that, Preston.” She had to make him believe that. “Since Carly got married, she’s determined to see me as happy as she is and it’s like a full-court press. I didn’t want to talk to her about us yet, so I said that to buy some time to figure out how I feel. And she and I had that conversation about a fling back in the beginning. I don’t feel that way.”
“Why didn’t you want to talk about us, then? She’s your cousin. Your best friend. This—what we have, or what I thought we had—isn’t important enough to talk to her about?”
Panic was clawing at Zoe’s chest and she tried to stay calm. “You are important to me. This isn’t an easy fling for me, but I’m not ready to have Carly shoving us down the aisle, either. I wasn’t looking for that.”
“You basically said that. The sticky note in the book with the no-strings-attached fling.” The muscles in his pale face tensed as he clenched his jaw. “I should have listened.”
“No.” She knew she was butting up against some old wounds for him—the conviction that in time he’d be too boring for her—but she had wounds, too. “It’s scary, Preston. The last time I went all in on a man, I got my heart broken. I had to start over. I even lost my parents. The idea of taking the risk again when I’ve made this amazing life for myself terrifies me and I didn’t want Carly pushing at me so I told her it was just a fling. I’m sorry I said that to her.”
“The first time we kissed, you said we were surrendering to the inevitable.”
“And then you said we’re incompatible because I’m abstract color to your pen and ink sketch,” she pointed out. She wasn’t the only one who’d backpedaled in this relationship.
“Maybe it’s time to surrender to the inevitable again,” he said, and she could see his meaning in the shattered look in his eyes.
And she didn’t have the strength to batter down his walls. She had no way to prove that nothing about him would ever be boring to her or to explain to him her fear that someday she might be too much for him and his orderly way of doing things.
“I should go,” she said quietly, not sure if she was telling him or herself. But the sharp nod from him was her
heartbreaking answer.
He didn’t move when she walked past him to get her phone or when she turned off the oven before grabbing her purse.
She opened the door, but turned back to him. “There are strings attached, Preston. You might not believe it, but I fell for you, too. But trusting myself is...hard. I’m sorry.”
There was so much more to say, but he wasn’t ready to listen and she wasn’t going to be able to hold back the flood of tears much longer, so she closed the door and walked away.
* * *
The chocolate chip cookies weren’t crunchy. They were burnt. But Preston ate them anyway. For days he ate her burned cookies, as well as the snickerdoodles they’d made together and the snowball cookies that had made a mess of his kitchen.
He had nothing else to do. People generally didn’t like planning for their eventual demise during the holidays, so other than some paperwork and research he could do at home, his time was his own. Time to think about Zoe and what had gone wrong and how desperately he missed her.
Not having appointments meant he could skip going into the office. And that meant he didn’t have to walk by Cedar Street Books. He didn’t have to look through the window and see her looking back. He didn’t go through the steps to see the store’s Instagram pictures because it would hurt too much.
At some point, he was going to have to face her again, but he wasn’t ready yet. Honestly, he couldn’t imagine a time he would be ready, but eventually work would force him back to Cedar Street.
A knock on the door made his heart leap—not because it startled him, but because it might be Zoe. But when he looked through the door’s window and saw Noah standing there, the brief flame of hope flickered and died.
Noah must have taken the look as an invitation because he let himself in, and Preston was glad he was alone, at least. He wasn’t in the mood for company at all, but he especially didn’t want to see Carly. Carly would just make him think of Zoe, and maybe kick him in the balls for making her cousin cry.
“You look rough, man,” Noah said, pulling out a seat at the table and snagging a cookie. “And these cookies are burnt.”
“Zoe made those.”
“That explains it.” He tossed the cookie back on the plate. “How you holding up? It’s been days and Carly said nobody’s seen any sign of you at the office.”
“Estate planning isn’t high on anybody’s Christmas to-do list.” When Noah only nodded, he let the silence drag on for a while before he couldn’t hold back the question any longer. “How’s Zoe?”
“Wrecked.” Preston flinched, but Noah shrugged. “Not going to sugarcoat it for you. You’re both obviously pretty wrecked, but Carly said Zoe handled her divorce better than she’s handling whatever went down with you two.”
Pain shot through him and settled in his gut like a lead ball. “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”
“But you expected her to hurt you.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Anger burned through some of the hurt.
“Zoe’s just like the other woman you dated, right?”
Hell no. “There’s nobody like Zoe. She’s amazing and unique and I’ve never met a woman like her. She’s one of a kind.”
Noah shrugged. “But you just assumed one day she’d wake up tired of you, so you didn’t even really hear her explanation. You went into the relationship because she’s one of a kind, but you expected it to end as if she’s like every other woman you’ve dated.”
“Did Carly give you a script?”
Noah snorted. “Carly doesn’t know I’m here, and I’m not sure how she’d feel about it. She likes you, but if there were T-shirts, ours would say Team Zoe. And I’m not even here to try to help you fix things with Zoe, to be honest. You’ve become a friend and I’m worried about you. Everybody is.”
Preston was reminded again that Zoe’s grandfather owned his house. And his office. “And Joe?”
“You don’t have to worry about anything there. He’s the captain of Team Zoe, but he’s a good man and that has nothing to do with business between you. He might not want to sit around and have a beer with you right now, but you’re not being evicted.”
He almost didn’t care. He could walk away from this and go back to Boston. Get a job at another firm. Work. Make money. Eventually forget about Zoe.
That would never happen. He wasn’t ever going to forget her.
“Look, obviously you care about her,” Noah said, and Preston’s feelings about that understatement must have shown on his face because his eyes widened. “Oh shit, are you in love with her?”
“Yeah. But when I read that text message... I should have known from the beginning it couldn’t work.”
“You can’t just shut that off. If you love her, you have to talk it through.” He held up his hand. “I know. I don’t like the talking part too much, either, but trust me. It makes relationships a lot easier.”
“And Zoe? How does she feel?”
Noah shook his head. “I’m not going to give you anything there. You want to know how Zoe feels? You ask her.”
That was fair. “I don’t know how to make this right. Maybe it’s better to just get through this pain and move on rather than risk more pain down the road.”
“Pretty sure that’s the philosophy that got you this pain to begin with.” Noah stood. “Look. I know planning for all eventualities is kind of your thing, but this isn’t something tangible. You have to have faith in her and in love and just make the jump. You think I don’t know how scary that is? I do. But I also know the risk is worth it for the right woman.”
Preston couldn’t imagine a woman more right for him than Zoe.
“I’m going to go,” Noah said. “I’m not the type to wallow in beer and eat bad cookies, but I wanted to make sure you’re doing okay. And you can always reach out to me if you want to have a meal or something.”
“I appreciate it.” And he meant it. He’d been feeling very alone the last few days, even with a couple of phone calls from his parents, and it meant a lot to him that Noah cared enough to stop in.
* * *
This wasn’t her best Christmas Eve ever.
Zoe’s favorite Christmas penguin pajamas weren’t helping with her mood, even though she’d put them on as soon as she closed the shop.
It had been a busy day of helping those very last minute, panicked shoppers find the perfect book as a gift in five minutes or less. Because Noah’s parents did a big Christmas Eve thing and Zoe lived upstairs, she’d told Carly not to even bother coming in. She’d been invited to spend the evening with Noah’s family, of course, but she wasn’t up to forcing more holiday cheer today.
There was a gaping hole in her life where Preston had been, and no amount of eggnog and family time was going to fill it. She’d screwed up with that text meant to keep Carly off her back and she didn’t know how to fix it.
She didn’t know how to convince Preston she could fix it. He’d warned her she’d get bored with him and that text had convinced him he was right. But he was wrong. She couldn’t imagine ever being bored with him.
When she couldn’t take it anymore, she picked up her phone and went to the last text exchange with Preston. He’d been complimenting her Christmas window display and she’d been pretty damn proud of that.
She typed in I just want to wish you a merry Christmas and hit the button to send it before she could change her mind.
It was almost a minute before the three little dots popped up to show her he was going to respond and she held her breath waiting for it. Luckily, he typed fast.
I’m glad you texted. I have a gift for you.
Tears blurred her vision for a few seconds, until she wiped them away. Can we get together soon?
Hope flickered as she waited for his answer, and despite the risk of having her heart broken all over again, she let hersel
f believe that little flame.
I’m parked across the street. I was trying to work up the courage to ring the bell.
She got up so fast she almost went headfirst over the coffee table, and then she had to turn back for her phone.
Please come up.
She looked like a festive hot mess ready for bed, but she didn’t care. And she didn’t think he’d care, either. She hit the button to unlock the downstairs door and then waited for what felt like forever as he climbed the old wooden stairs.
He looked almost as bad as she did, although he was wearing real clothes, but just seeing his face lifted her heart and made her feel joy for the first time since she’d left his house.
“Merry Christmas, Zoe,” he said softly as she backed up to let him in. “I won’t keep you long if you have plans. I just wanted to give you this.”
“I don’t have any plans,” she said, gesturing at her pajamas. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He smiled, his dark eyes warm. “I’m glad you’re glad. I was a jerk and I’m sorry.”
“I would have been a jerk, too, if I read a text like that. I’m sorry I hurt you.”
He held out the beautifully wrapped gift he’d carried up with him. “I have more to say, but I want you to open this first.”
When she sat on the couch, he sat next to her and rubbed his palms over his thighs.
She took her time working the pretty red ribbon off the packaging so when it finally slid free of the box, she could drape it around her neck with the bow hanging like a festive pendant. She’d done it since she was a little girl because it made her happy.
Preston waited patiently while she peeled the tape away and unfolded the paper from the flat white box. She was doing it a little bit because she enjoyed making him wait. But also, she could see in his eyes that what was in the box was a big deal to him. He was nervous about it, which made her nervous about it.
When she finally lifted the lid and peeled back the tissue paper, her breath left her in a long, shaky rush.
One Christmas Eve Page 10
