“Oh, come on, Holly,” I plead. “I thought you were starting to enjoy the holiday season.”
Her lips thin before she lets out a sigh. “Well, I don’t know why you’d think that. I never said anything to insinuate that.”
I give her a grin, briefly turning my attention away from the road. “You agreed to come out with me without knowing what we were doing.”
“Lesson learned for next time,” she fires back, but I know I can see the hint of a smile at the corner of her lips.
I let out a chuckle. “So, you’ve already decided there’s going to be a next time.”
For a second, she doesn’t say anything, but a quick glance shows me the redness in her cheeks. Oh, she issogoing to enjoy this date.
“Watch it, Felix,” she warns, but just hearing my name grace her lips makes my dicks twitch, their rapidly expanding state crowding my pants that weren’t designed for a guy who’s literally double-hung.
Notnow; it’s Christmas tree shopping time.
It’s make-Holly-feel-festive time.
As I pull into the bustling lot, full of other shoppers and pine trees of varying sizes, my excitement grows. This is step one of showing Holly that Christmas is the best time of year.
Step two is what willfollow.
I park, practically jumping out of the car to race around and open the door for her. She has her hand outstretched, and I think Imayhave snatched the door right out of her grasp.
Whoops.
“The only lesson to be learned here is the joy of Christmas,” I say, playing on her earlier words. “And I will be your teacher.” I gesture widely toward all the trees. “The tree ismorethan just wood and pine needles; it brings a reminder of the warmth, love, and cheer of the season.”
She crosses her arms in front of her, but walks alongside me and into the rows of pine trees. The fact that she didn’t immediately turn and walk away—or tell me off—is already a win.
The no response to my Christmas tree spiel? Notexactlya win. Not a loss, but not a win.
I have a feeling she isn’t going to make this easy on me. Maybe she really doesn’t feel the desire, the need, for more with me the way I do with her.
But I can see in the way she moves, the way she talks, that she intentionally keeps people at a distance. It’s defensive, for sure.
And Iwillget through her defenses.
We walk into a row with less people, and I ask, “So, what do you look for in a tree—tall and skinny, short and full?” Ifinallyearn a laugh from her, and it sends a ripple through my chest. “It’s a shame that sound is so rare.”
“What sound?” She raises a brow at me.
“Your laugh.”
Her steps falter, and her arms have fallen to her sides. I take this opportunity to slip my hand in hers.
We stop altogether, and I slowly lower my lips to hers. I drag them gently over hers before kissing her tenderly.
I’m pulled slightly closer by the loop of my pants; it seems her fingers having found their way to my side. God, why is that so hot?
Why issheso irresistible?
Breaking away, I pull back, staring down into her eyes. They’ve softened in this moment, and I swear the windows to her soul have started to open.
Just as I feel like I’m about to get a deeper connection with her, she looks away. The blinds have been shut,tight.
“IfI’m going to get a tree, it needs to be tall—and lush.” Her arms are crossed over her chest again, and she’s walking the row of trees.
I watch for her a few moments. The confidence in each step she takes, the way she holds her head high.
