Handing him enough to cover the fare to the cottage, I close the door. Before Amelia has a chance to argue with me, I hoist her over my shoulder and take her into our phone box.
“What are you doing?” she asks, frowning at me with a pout that takes all my restraint not to kiss.
“I’m taking you to that damn concert because it’s all you’ve spoken about this afternoon. You were excited for it, and I don’t know what’s happened, but—”
“You lied!” she spits at me angrily, leaving me baffled because I have no fucking idea what she’s talking about. If there is one thing I don’t do, it’s lie. I hate dishonesty. “Why?”
“Why what?” Bracing my hands on either side of her head, I pull back so that I’m looking down on her screwed-up face.
“Why didn’t you tell me about Christie?” Marking me with a narrowed glare, she tips her chin up defiantly.
I’m so taken back by my ex-fiancée’s name on her lips that it feels like a sharp slap.
“She doesn’t fucking matter, that’s why,” I bark at her, regretting it the moment she shrinks back, hurt evident on her face. “You don’t need to know about her. All you need to know is that we’re over.”
Amelia sucks her sullen lip into her mouth with an accepting nod. The slope of her eyes tells me she’s pulling away from me, and it’s another reason for me to hate my ex.
Standing taller, she pulls her shoulders back as she asks, “Why did you tell them we’re together? Why would you say that when it’s not true. We’re-we-we’re—”
“We are together.”
“No. No we’re not, Adam!” Trying to push past me, she slaps at my shoulders. “And I don’t get why you would invite me to dinner when I-I-I’m…I was clearly a third wheel.”
“We. Are. Together. I’m fucking you. You’re fucking me.” I stop at her sharp inhale and the stab of sadness that flits across her face again. Taking a deep breath before carrying on, I shuffle closer. “There’s no one else. Just us, Mills. So yeah, until we leave, we are together.”
Hands fisting the lapels of my coat, she leans back onto the glass. “That’s not what they meant.”
“News flash, sweetheart. People very rarely mean what they say or say what they mean for that matter. Trust me, I’ve just made eight hundred million on it.”
With an audible swallow, she takes a deep breath before she murmurs, “You’re being an asshole.”
“This is who I am, Amelia. I know you want to think that I’m perfect, but I’m not. I’m a businessman, not Prince fucking Charming.” My chest tightens at the tears lining her eyes. Obviously, she wasn’t expecting to see this side of me—the side that most people see. “I don’t want our time together to end like this, but if you don’t like me right now, it’s best we leave.”
Without looking away, I step closer, nudging her feet apart so I can plant mine between them. In the muted light of the phone box, she’s glowing a soft, luminous gold, red lips plumper than ever and hazel eyes bright.
When I cup her jaw, she sighs. “I don’t want us to end like this either.”
“Good, because I’m going to take you to that concert, and then I’m going to take you home and keep you up all night. So that tomorrow, you’ll know the true meaning of being tired.”
Tired enough that leaving might not be so bad. Maybe I can fuck her enough to work her out of my system.
“They always lied,” she whispers, using her grip on my lapel to leverage herself up onto her toes. With her lips ghosting mine, she levels me with her gaze. “They were never there even when they said they would be. They…lied.”
“I do not lie, Amelia. I do not make promises I can’t keep.”
“Why did you tell me about her before?”
“Because Christie is irrelevant to any of this. She’s a liar and a cheat, and I will not taint our time together by bringing her into it. You deserve better than that. You are better than that. So much more.”
I’m not sure whether she’s nodding in acceptance of my words or something else, but when I edge back, pulling away to take her into the church, she pulls me back and kisses me like never before. While her tongue traces over the seam of my lips, her arms wind around my neck. Her hold on me is strong enough that when I stand to full height, her feet lift off the ground.
“The concert…”
“We can be late,” she murmurs between nips of my lips. She lets out a hoarse groan when her groin presses to mine as her legs wrap around my hips.
I can’t get enough of her as she writhes over me, hands twisting in my hair to the rhythm of her kiss, the dance of her tongue with mine. It’s the worst moment to realize that there’ll never be anyone like her. I’ll never find another soul like hers, and it kills me that I have to give it up.
Amelia is the perfect person, at the wrongest of times. It seems a cruel twist of fate—to find something so incredible only to have to let it go.
The church bells ring outside our cocoon, and I take advantage of her startle to set her on her feet and lead her out to the church. The steps leading up to the miniature cathedral-like building are illuminated with softly glowing candles in the middle of wreath arrangements, red, green, gold, and white against the sand-colored stone.
“It’s so perfect,” she marvels when we reach the top step, turning to me with a beaming grin.
“It is.” I nod, not taking my eyes off her.
Red lipstick a little smudged and cheeks glowing with the nip of the sharp breeze, Amelia is all the things I could have ever wanted and more. Interlinking our fingers together, I take us inside, grabbing one of the booklets an altar boy hands us.
“Thanks,” I tell him, following another of the white-cloaked youngsters to a couple of free seats.
The tiny church is packed and oddly warm. Amelia shirks off her coat, and I can’t help but ogle her from head to toe. The midnight velvet of her dress brings out the milkiness of her skin, and her heels are something out of a fairy tale. She’s a vision, one that I’m going to struggle to forget. It’ll be impossible.
“Are you cold?” she asks, unbuttoning my wool coat.
“Nope.” I strip it off and wrap it around hers before putting both on the stone floor in front of us. When I’m standing back up, I murmur into her ear, “Still blue balled.”
I pull back just in time to catch the roll of her eyes and the purse of her lips.
Maybe I won’t get her out of my system tonight, but I’ll take enough of her to last a lifetime without her.
The concert ends, and rather than get stuck in the middle of the crowd, we wait until almost everyone’s left. Amelia is still in a Christmas carol haze when I help her into her coat and we head out. The earthy scent gets me before we step outside to the heavying rain.
The blanket of snow around us is already turning to slush when we get into one of the few cabs sitting outside the pub we had dinner at earlier. I’m not sure whether I’m meant to notice or not that she’s crying, I’m guessing the latter by the way she turns to look out of the window while clasping my hand tightly with hers.
This is why it would never work between us. I would break her heart by leaving her all the time. Amelia would resent me after a while, and history would repeat itself. At this point of my life…
“Just when we thought we’d get a lovely white Christmas, the bloody rain has to muck it all up,” the driver gripes as the rain becomes almost impossible to see through. It’s sheeting down, like a period at the end of a sentence, hailing the end. “It was great while it lasted. We’re back to the ice and mud tomorrow.”
He has no idea.
The minute he comes to a stop, Amelia lets herself out and heads for the cottage while I pay the guy. He’s barely out of the gate when we fall through the front door, completely soaked from the minute it took to get it open.
We’re wet rats, as I draw her to me, kissing her as I slip her coat off her shoulders so that it falls to the ground. We don’t break apart as I yank mine off an
d back us to the stairs, sitting a few steps up with her straddling me.
I can’t bear to look at Amelia’s tear-reddened eyes. Instead, I do the only thing that will make us forget what’s coming. Unzipping her dress at the back, I pull it over her head before ridding her of her bra.
“How much do you love your panties?” I ask, twisting the seam of the delicate lace around my fist as she replies, “Not enough.”
“Good.” Tugging hard at the material, I relish the sound of it tearing as I cup a supple breast in my other hand and lean down to suck at its turgid point.
“Fuck, Adam,” Amelia whines into the air above us, heaving to every lick and nip.
“That’s the idea, spitfire.”
“So good,” she hums with every kiss up to her jaw, and when I find her lips again, she works my belt and pants open.
Hand slipping between us, she strokes down and up my shaft, swirling her thumb over the tip to my hiss, “How do you want it?”
“Every which way,” she replies, unbuttoning my shirt with one hand while fisting my cock with the other. “You tell me, Adam, how are you going to fuck me?”
“Better than you’ve ever been.” So you never forget me, like I’ll never forget you.
I suck her lobe into my mouth as I lift her over my erection and fill her tight pussy in one hard thrust. “This is just the entree.”
The chuckle that vibrates from her turns into a breathy, drawn-out moan that seeps deep beneath my skin as she nuzzles into the crook of my neck. All I can do is press her to me while I work her over my cock. Faster and faster until her cunt clenches around me and her teeth bite down on the tender flesh of my neck.
“Come for me, baby,” I tell her as my dick throbs and my muscles tense. “Now.”
“Yes!” Sputtering into my ear, she follows my command, body shaking as her orgasm rips through her.
“Good girl.” I kiss her jaw and down her neck.
When I get up, she wraps herself around me, and I take her to my bed. One more night of her. One more night of nothing but the here and now. Tomorrow be damned.
Amelia stirs as I slip out of bed and head into the bathroom, looking out of the window to see the muddy, icy slush outside and Fiona finally completely snow-free. A night’s worth of rain turned the winter wonderland into nothing but dirt sludge. Seems fitting.
Stepping into the bath, I duck beneath the upright showerhead. It’s only just high enough that I can lean my head beneath it to get washed, humming one of Amelia’s favorite Christmas songs as I rinse the suds from my hair.
“I should start calling you Buddy.” Her sleep-roughened voice has me peering at her, leaning against the back of the door in my shirt from last night. “Except…hotter. Although, I wish I’d thought about an Elf costume before now.”
“Hard pass, sweetheart.”
Eyeing me from where she’s standing, Amelia ogles my dick before dragging her burning gaze all the way up my torso, to my chest.
“I don’t have a problem with hard,” she smirks, stripping out of the shirt before joining me in the bath.
The minute she touches me, my breath congeals in my lungs, knowing that our time is up.
“It’s still dark out…”
“I have some calls to make. Work.”
Nodding, she presses her lips to my chest, tucking herself right into me. Unable to resist, I wrap my arms around her and rest my chin on the top of her head. It’s odd how she feels smaller today. As though she’s shrinking out of my grasp already.
I’m not sure how long we stay like that, but the water starts to cool, and before the hot water runs out I sud Amelia up, keeping myself in check as I wash her. I need my head clear. I can’t be thinking with my dick right now.
“Where are you going?” she asks when I put her down on our bed and pull on some boxer briefs.
“Work, remember?” She’s still wrapped in her towel when I pull the duvet over her. “Go back to sleep, Mills,” I tell her, brushing the wet hair from her face and holding her dainty chin between my fingers when she yawns with a smile.
I’m barely out of the room when my phone starts vibrating in my hand.
“Hey.” Answering, I close the bedroom door behind me. “Gimme a sec, I need to go downstairs.”
“Hey, killjoy,” Daphne snickers. “Are you ready to come home yet?”
When I don’t reply, she tells me, “Or you could stay a little longer.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Sure you can. You can do anything you want, and since you closed that deal…no one will say shit about fuck.”
“Shit about fuck?” That’s a new catchphrase for her.
“I started watching this reality cowboy show, and one of the guys on it says it all the time. It’s catchy.” I can imagine her shrugging. “Anyway, you can stay longer if you want, or better yet, bring her home with you. I’m sure Mom would have a blast taking on Christmas. I think she’s bored—she’s trying to matchmake again, and if she introduces me to another nice Jewish boy, I’ll run away.”
Sounds about right. “Maybe I should send her Seb’s way. She’d love his dating app.”
“Wait, who’s Seb?”
“Amelia’s brother.”
“Oooo…is he hot? Have a Southern accent? A cowboy hat?” She sighs into the phone.
“No, they’re LA born and bred. I don’t think the outdoors is his thing given he’s one of those computer geeks you used to drool over at school.”
“They were cute, but I’m over the geek squad. Anyway, we’re digressing here, big brother. This conversation isn’t about me. What do you want to do?” I open my mouth to reply when she adds, “And don’t let all the past shit get in the way of it. Just pretend that Christie never happened and that you’re not waiting to step into Dad’s old shoes. What do you want, Adam?”
Daphne has no idea what my life is actually like. It’s cute that she wants me to forget about everything except Amelia, but I have responsibilities that can’t be forgotten. Even if I did what I wanted and forgot about my duty to our family and all the shit with my ex, none of it would forget about me. It will all always be there, and after last night…
“Ask her, Adam. What do you actually have to lose? It’s easy—all you have to say is ‘Come home with me, Amelia.’ I bet she would want to. I bet she doesn’t want to say goodbye either.”
“Daph…it’s not that simple.”
“Nothing is ever that simple, but at some point you’re going to have to simplify it for yourself. Otherwise…just ask her. At least you’ll have no regrets, right? Regrets and lies, that’s what you hate, and we both know you’ll regret not asking her to come home with you. Shit, you could go home with her. Nothing is stopping you from having what you want except for yourself.”
“You sound like Dad.”
“He would tell you the same thing if he knew how much you…like her. Do yourself a favor and be as ruthless with your happiness as you are with business.”
I’ve loved Daphne all our lives. We’ve been each other’s cheerleaders for all our twenty-nine years. Normally her advice is the one thing I don’t overlook—it has never steered me wrong—but today…
“Four words, Ad. ‘Come home with me’—five if you add her name or whatever you call her.”
“Okay,” I pacify her, knowing that those are four words I’ll never say to Amelia.
“So…eight hundred million, huh? Surely that’s a record for Cohen Capital? At this point you could buy your own lebkuchen bakery on a superyacht in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle.”
“Umm, any asshole that takes a superyacht near the Bermuda Triangle deserves to disappear…painfully.”
“Fine, go open a bakery in the middle of the Sahara.”
“A bakery? You baffle me sometimes, you know that?”
“I’m trying to lighten the mood so that Mr. Killjoy disappears, and maybe that way you won’t tell me you’re going to do something you have no intention of doing. Which, by
the way, is lying by definition. You’re not a liar, Adam, so you’re going to have to ask her.”
“I’ll see how the conversation goes.” There, that’s not a promise, and there will be no lie when I don’t ask Amelia to come home with me because the conversation will never go down that path.
Our time together was always going to be temporary. A short fling. Nothing more.
Remember that.
10
Amelia
The buzzing of my phone wakes me up from the best nap I’ve had in a long time. Rolling onto my side to grab the offending item, I notice Adam is still missing beside me. When I glance at the time, I’m not surprised. I have definitely overslept. But it’s his fault for keeping me up all night…not that I’m complaining. I’m deliciously sore in all the best places as I thumb the notification on the screen open.
It takes me a moment to take the news in. Airports are opening up runways again, and my flight has been rescheduled for the next couple of days. I’m filled with a mixture of joy and disappointment. I’m over the moon I get to spend Christmas with Seb, but the thought of leaving Adam and the cottage has my heart sinking. It’s crazy how attached you can become to someone after such a short amount of time, but we have spent practically twenty-four seven together for the past week.
Sliding out of bed, I reach for my elf slippers and head downstairs, bracing myself for the inevitable goodbye that I know is approaching. The snow may be melting, but my entire body is cold and numb at the thought of leaving this place. Of leaving Adam. As soon as I reach the stairs, I pause as I hear him. He’s singing along to Michael Bublé’s “Winter Wonderland,” and as I move further down the staircase, I see he’s wearing nothing but a pair of red boxers and my Santa hat. I wish I could freeze this moment and keep it forever. I’ve been happy here, with Adam, blissfully so, and I wish it could stay as simple as when we got here.
Love 2 Jingle U: A Sweet Vine Christmas Romance Page 10
