While I wait, Nigel pops his head back in. “When you’re done, d’you want to help me put the little one’s toys on the shelves?”
“I’d love to. I’m hobbling much better this afternoon.”
“That’s my girl.” He winks at me, and I’m mush.
“More likeCentaur’s Little Love Nest. OrCentaur’s Little Helper,” I whisper to myself, right before my mom and dad burst into a noisy chorus on my phone.
I HEARD WHAT SHE TOLDher sister.
My heart beats faster when I let myself dream. Believe. Hope that this could lead to something real and lasting.
I varnish the chair, balancing it on a large stump in the backyard that’s sheltered from the wind but well-ventilated.
While I work, I try to talk myself out of it and work on coaxing back the misery I’ve been used to.
She could be a fraud. This could be a scam.
Then she deserves an award. A movie contract.
She might take Josh back when he comes crawling, realizing what he’s lost.
I’ll stomp him into mulch and spread him in the woods before I let that bastard near her again.
Briana might find intimacy with you painful.
Last night she was so slippery. We can take things slow. At her pace. If it takes us time to get to the point where I fit, that’s fine. Her thighs wrapped around me were divine, like nothing I’ve ever felt—
I stop thinking because my cock is starting to shift and work its way out.
“Stop that. You’ll freeze off,” I say sternly.
I can’t have that happen. I’m hoping this Christmas Eve leads to a much better Christmas Day than last year.
“MR. FENCLAN IS A GOD-tier host!” Briana crows as she rides me through the house, opening the cupboards and fridge. “I paid for the groceries included package, but look at this—pork tenderloin, champagne, red wine, shallots, herbs, potatoes... This is a gorgeous feast.”
“You can cook?”
“I love to cook. I don’t get to do it every night, not with my job. Josh actually preferred when I didn’t. He was into smoothies and raw diets lately. I like meat and potatoes, and veggies and fruit, too, of course. And chocolate. And cheese. Fatty things. Ugh.” Briana bows her head against my back. “Dinner time was like a constant sparring match. I laughed it all off. I think now that I shouldn’t have ignored it.”
“I can cook, too. And I like steak, and venison, and the only thing I want raw is a salad. If you want cheese and chocolate, I’mpretty sure I spotted a cheeseboard on the bottom shelf of the fridge and some truffles by the champagne. Little red foil box.”
“Oooh, the good stuff.” Briana taps my shoulder, and I help her down. “This... This could be romantic?”
“A Christmas Eve dinner for two, with this view?” I point to the sun setting over the snow. The wind plays in the pines, and a net of glittering white blows from the roof. “Magical.”
“In my family, we always open one gift on Christmas Eve.”
“In my family, we always ate the Terry’s Chocolate Orange out of our stockings,” I chuckle.
“I have no idea what that is.”
“Well, I might just have to enlighten you tomorrow. My mum sent a Christmas parcel last week, and I’m pretty sure there was one inside. I’ll split it with you.”
“What? No! That’s your special thing,” Briana shakes her head.
“Ah, but you’re my special person.”
And then I cough, turn red, and make my escape back to the van to fetch in her last suit and what I brought of mine. I take a walk around the property, too, just to make sure everything is in order—and to give myself time to cool down so I don’t say anything else stupidly maudlin.
