by Juliette Poe
Larkin disconnects the phone, then calls out across the yard to me. “Come on in. Have you eaten anything? I can fix you some food.”
Something shifts inside me. Here is this beautiful, kind, brilliant, and funny woman who is opening her home to me on Christmas Eve and her first thought is to be concerned whether I’ve had dinner. She probably knows better than I do that everything in Whynot was shut down today. She doesn’t even think twice about her offer.
Lowering my phone, I start striding across her small lawn, which is surprisingly green for wintertime. That’s because while things can get cold in North Carolina, it’s never quite severe enough to deaden a lot of the grass varieties round here.
I bound up the steps. Larkin smiles brightly, her eyes warm and welcoming. I can almost see the need within her beautiful Southern soul to get me in and pamper me on this Christmas Eve.
Whatever had shifted before shifts even further.
For all my talk of taking things slowly and enjoying the building of the tension between us, I realize that’s not quite what’s important anymore.
What’s important is I am ready to connect to her on a deeper level, and I need to know if she’s ready as well.
The proper thing to do when I reach her would probably be a hug, perhaps a kiss on the cheek. Instead, both my hands go to the sides of her face and I crash into her, claiming her mouth with my own in a kiss that should not leave any guesses as to what I want tonight.
It’s not dinner.
Larkin gasps in surprise at my bold move. Immediately, her hands go into my shirt where she clutches hard to hold me tight to her. I can tell by the way she doesn’t accept my kiss but rather gives it back with force that she understands my message.
She feels the same shift I do.
She understands it for what it is.
Larkin manages to pull back from me just enough so she can mumble a few words against my lips. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes, I am,” I growl, before picking her up in my arms and walking into her house.
Down the hallway and straight to her bedroom.
CHAPTER 16
Larkin
The bright light penetrates through my eyelids and brings me to awareness of morning. I stretch and let out a yawn, but I keep my eyes closed, hoping to drift back off again. It’s not often I get to sleep in. Christmas morning is one of those few precious days I close the bakery down. I don’t have any obligations other than to snuggle in my bed and wake up at my leisure.
I don’t have to be at the bed and breakfast because Mely and Lowe are back in town and have assumed the helm again. I can choose to get up and have a leisurely breakfast or I can snuggle deeper under my comforter and get a little more shut eye.
I think the concept of being lazy and sleeping in is the best idea, so I burrow under the covers a little deeper.
Except it seems a little hot.
Confining.
Maybe even suffocating.
Something heavy is around my midsection. Suddenly, I freeze with utter awareness. My eyes flutter open, and I stare at my open bathroom door from my bed as I realize… there’s someone in my bed with me.
Not someone.
A man.
I’m pulled tight into his body, which feels like a rock-hard wall behind me. His heavy arm is around my midsection, holding me close.
Deacon Locke.
Deacon Locke is still in my bed.
A rush of memories from last night assault me, and I can feel my face heat up. It flames even hotter when I realize I’m actually naked in bed with Deacon, and I really have to pee. I hadn’t felt it when I first woke up, but now I have a ton of stress crashing down on me because I’m naked and there’s a naked man, too, and it makes me have to pee even worse now.
The anxiety intensifies when I realize I’m going to have to get out of bed naked. He’s going to see my butt as I walk away from the bed and toward the bathroom.
I give a tentative tug on the sheet around us, hoping I can pull it out and wear it as a shroud. My clothes are over by my door because that is where he put me down and started undressing me last night when he brought me to my bedroom.
Oh God… This is horrible.
I take a moment and listen, instantly recognizing his deep inhale and exhale as sleep.
Slowly, I reach out and grip the edge of the mattress with my hand and try to drag myself gently out of his embrace. He doesn’t acknowledge the move other than his arm tightening slightly. I hold my breath and wait. His deep breaths reassure me that he is oblivious to what I’m doing.
I start to try to pull myself loose again, relieved when I actually make a little bit of progress.
But then I’m stopped cold when I hear his husky, sleep-filled voice. “Where are you going, Larkin?”
God, but does that rumbling voice send shivers up my spine.
“I have to pee,” I mutter.
I can feel Deacon jolt, then he shifts before pushing up to hover over me. His eyes are heavy lidded from sleep as he smiles down at me. I twist to look over my shoulder with a sheepish grin.
He loosens his hold and grins, giving a chin lift toward the bathroom door. “By all means, go.”
“Close your eyes,” I order.
Frowning, Deacon shakes his head. “Why?”
Why indeed?
Last night, he didn’t give me any opportunity to be shy. The way he kissed and touched me pretty much made me a melted puddle of goo, and I didn’t even think to order him to turn out the lights or close his eyes as he started removing my clothes.
But the bright light of morning is completely different. I’ve just woken up, my bladder is overextended, and I bet I look like absolute hell. Not to mention, I have a healthy dose of cellulite covering my backside and I absolutely don’t want his eyes pinned to my jiggly butt when I get out of the bed.
Deacon watches me expectantly—I’m sure thinking I will come up with an incredibly good reason why I have asked him to close his eyes.
When nothing is forthcoming—because I’m embarrassed over my insecurity and I don’t want him to know the real reason because it will cause unnecessary attention on my cellulose-riddled butt—he decides to do the talking.
His arm shifts, then his hand comes to my face where he grips my chin. My instinct is to look away from him and his counter instinct is to hold me tightly, so I’m forced to focus on him.
“Last night,” he drawls slowly and in no uncertain terms. “That wasn’t a one-time only thing, Larkin. I plan on doing it again—and most likely in broad daylight at some point. I’ve already seen your body… And well, I intend on seeing it again. Frankly, I’m going to enjoy the hell out of it. So why are you so shy all of a sudden?”
Letting my eyes close slowly for a moment, I try to garner up enough courage to look him in the face as I admit my insecurity. I can’t quite seem to open them back up, so I go ahead and murmur, “Because I don’t like the way I look.”
Deacon’s fingers press into my jaw just slightly to get my attention, and my eyes pop open to find him staring at me with quiet concern. “Got enough of a peek of you last night that I know every inch of you is beautiful. Every curve. Every line, bump, and smooth patch of skin, shiny hair, wrinkles—”
“I don’t have wrinkles,” I snap.
“All of it,” he rolls right over me. “There isn’t one thing on you that turns me off, Larkin. Quite the opposite. If you walked around naked all day, that would be the type of world I would want to live in, and I would never leave your side. I would just sit there and stare at you like a fool. So how about accept me at face value that I like everything about you. If you don’t hurry up and go pee, you’re going to wet the bed and that will absolutely be a downer in our relationship.”
I can’t help but be amazed, charmed, and amused all at the same time. A giggle pops out of me, putting extra pressure on my bladder. I decide to take him at face value as he asked, so I scramble out of the bed.
He easily lets
me go and I half walk, half run to the bathroom, feeling his eyes pinned on my butt.
I’m embarrassed. Even though he said all those wonderful things, I’m just not used to being naked around an insanely gorgeous man such as Deacon.
But I’m going to push through it, and I’m going to own it.
♦
In my bathroom, I efficiently do my business. It takes less than a minute to pee but a good five trying to comb my hair back into place, wipe mascara out from under my eyes, and brush my teeth vigorously so I don’t kill Deacon if he insists on a kiss when I get back.
I avert my eyes, trying not to examine myself in the mirror at the extra few pounds I’ve picked up over the last couple of years since opening up a bakery. Instead, I grab my robe that hangs on a hook by the shower and slip it on, tightening the belt and making sure all of my good parts are covered.
I know it’s a cop-out. Deacon will be disappointed, and he will probably tease me. But it is what it is. I have to take baby steps.
Taking a deep breath, I open my bathroom door to find Deacon watching me.
Waiting for me.
Holy cow, I wish I could take a picture of the man in my bed. He’s naked, but he has the covers pulled up to his waist. His muscular body is entirely distracting, and I’m having a tough time not letting my eyes drop as he takes in my bathrobe.
His lips quirk up, his eyes sparkling. “Drop the robe. Get back in bed.”
And then, from nowhere, it occurs to me. There’s a sexy alpha man in my bed.
I do believe I have waited my entire life for something like this to happen. Straight out of a romance novel. I don’t even think twice as my fingers start to work at the belt knot, watching Deacon’s smile go from amused to feral.
Then my doorbell rings.
I mutter a curse, and Deacon blinks in surprise.
“I’ll go get that,” I say and pivot, rushing out of my bedroom and down the hallway. All I need is for that to be one of my siblings—who, if I don’t answer the door quickly enough, will whip out their own spare key and come right in.
I get to the door, put my eye up to the peephole, and smile when I see my friend Penelope Bean.
I jerk the door open, push the screen, and fling myself into her arms right there on the porch.
Penelope was my best friend in high school, and she continues to be my best friend to this day. She’s a fiery redhead with the most vivid green eyes I’ve ever seen and freckles all over her entire body. Sadly, she lives in Washington DC where she’s an agricultural lobbyist. She makes it home on the big holidays. Once in a blue moon, she’ll take a short vacation here, but she has left Whynot, North Carolina in the dust and is a big-city woman now.
We don’t let that hinder our friendship, though. We talk every day. It may be a short text or an hour-long phone call late at night, but we have each other’s ear every single day.
“Good golly, Penny,” I exclaim as we hug each other tightly and rock back and forth. “I didn’t expect to see you this early.”
Penny squeezes me hard. Pulling her head back, she grins. “It’s almost eleven.”
“What? Are you serious?”
Laughing boisterously, she releases me. “You’re a hardworking woman, my love. So I’m not even going to berate you for sleeping in this late. But get dressed. Let’s go to Aunt Muriel’s for lunch—”
Penny’s eyes go round as she stares at something directly over my shoulder. I know exactly what is causing that look on her face. I slowly peek over my shoulder to see Deacon striding through the living room toward us. Not a fully dressed Deacon, of course, because that would be easy to explain.
If he had been dressed, I could say he was the plumber fixing my drain. But no… this Deacon is wearing his jeans with the top button undone, and he’s in the process of pulling his T-shirt over his head. Both Penny and I get a good look at the set of washboard abs as he works the soft black material down over them. I almost cry out with disappointment when they’re covered up.
He comes to stand behind me, smiling over the top of my head at Penny. “What’s up?”
Wincing, I whirl to my best friend, who is just staring up at Deacon with her mouth hanging open and her eyes blinking furiously in shock.
Finally, she says, “Oh my.”
Her gaze drops to mine, her lips tipping upward as she leans in toward me to whisper, “Oh my. You have some explaining to do.”
Next thing I know, something is being shoved at me. I glance down to see a Christmas gift all wrapped up in emerald-green foil paper with a gold ribbon. “Here’s your Christmas present. You and I will talk later.”
She gives me a very pointed look that says she expects to get all the details.
I nod, invoking the sacredness of our friendship. “This stays out of the GM, right?”
She holds her fist out to me, and I bump it. “Totally. Unless he leaves your house later and someone sees him. But it will never come from me.”
Penny blows me a kiss, turns, and hops off the front porch, making her way to the sidewalk heading west back into town.
Deacon slides his arm around my waist, then pulls me back into his body as we continue to stare after her.
“What’s the GM?” Deacon asks.
“Gossip mill,” I mutter as I push us backward and shut the door.
“And that must have been Miss Penny Bean.” His tone is slightly chiding that I did not introduce them.
“Sorry,” I say as I turn around to face him. “That caught me off guard.”
He gives me an accommodating smile.
“Wait… how in the heck did you know that was Penny?” I ask in disbelief.
“You told me all about her that day we played pool at Chesty’s.”
“And you remember that?” I ask, a little in awe of his memory. I think I rambled on about a million different things that day.
Deacon reaches out to grab me by the waist again, and he pulls me into him. He wraps me up so our bodies are pressed tight, and stares down at me. “I remember everything you tell me, Larkin.”
Deacon bends and kisses me, and I’m so grateful I brushed my teeth. When he pulls back, he smiles and says, “Now… today is Christmas, and I really don’t want to overstep my boundaries. So if you have stuff for breakfast, I will cook it for you and then get out of your hair.”
Despite all my insecurities I’d faced just moments ago with him, I know one thing for certain.
I don’t want him to leave.
“You’re not in my hair. Stay.”
Deacon smiles in delight at my invitation. His eyes flare with a certain amount of heat that tells me where we might be spending part of the day. Deacon squeezes me.
“And you’re, of course, invited to my parents’ house for supper today,” I add. “It’s going to be at three.”
He shakes his head. “That’s family time. Christmas is a special holiday. I would never intrude.”
“Nonsense. My family is all about sharing the holidays. You’re coming to supper, and that’s that.”
Deacon flashes a grin, then his mouth is on mine for the sweetest Christmas gift I have ever received.
Then we head back to bed.
CHAPTER 17
Deacon
Christmas supper at Mainer Farm is really just a late lunch. We got here around two-thirty. By three, we were seated around a large dining room table that still wasn’t quite big enough to accommodate all of us. Extra chairs were squeezed in, then a tiny card table was brought in where Colt, Darby, and Linnie were relegated since Colt was technically the youngest member of the Mancinkus family. His siblings teased him relentlessly about having to sit at the kid’s table.
Watching this huge boisterous family interact is incredibly enjoyable. Growing up, family dinners in my household were sedate where everyone talked in a low calm voice. Conversation usually revolved around my father asking me and my stepsisters what we did at school, then him focusing the rest of his attention on his wife and how s
he spent her day being the perfect homemaker.
The Mancinkus family all talks at once, often yelling, raising their voices to be heard above the noise. There’s also a lot of laughing, passing bowls of food around, and teasing.
The food is unparalleled. Catherine Mainer Mancinkus knows how to cook Southern style. We dine on sweet ham, cheese grits, collards, mashed potatoes, sweet corn casserole, biscuits, and gravy. Larkin leans over at one point to explain the other food items on the table. Her mom always gives a nod to the types of food Gerry and Pap ate growing up in the Pittsburgh area. While the Mancinkus family is Lithuanian in their heritage, they grew up on a lot of Polish and Slavic foods based on the neighborhood they lived in. So in addition to the Southern fair, there is also stuffed cabbage, kraut and kielbasa, and perogies. It’s enough food to feed an army. These days, though, the Mancinkus family has a lot of grown men sitting around the table. Most of the bowls are empty by the time we are done.
Catherine stands, clapping her hands sharply to get everyone’s attention. “Let’s all go to the living room for our gift exchange,” she says. “I’ll clean up the kitchen later.”
“You most certainly will not clean the kitchen,” Trixie says as she rises from the table. “That’s what you had children for. For us to be slave labor.”
Everybody laughs, then there’s the sounds of chairs sliding against hardwood floors while everyone gets up from the table and moves across the hall to the living room.
This is probably the main reason I didn’t want to intrude on a family holiday. I knew there would be gifts exchanged. Had I had a little bit more time, I would have been able to go out and buy something to add to the white elephant exchange they’re going to do. At the very least, I would’ve bought Catherine some flowers or a plant to thank her for having me in her home.
I’d brought up this concern to Larkin, but she assured me that I wasn’t expected to bring anything and the gift exchange was all in jest. The white elephant format was simply her family’s excuse for buying tacky, cheesy gifts to give one another.
