It wasn’t that it was loud or excessive; it’s just that I hadn’t laughed like that in such a long time that it felt strange to do it. When I turned back to her, she was giving me a soft, knowing smile. “I don't think I've ever seen you look like that.”
I know what she meant, but I still asked. “What do you mean?”
She lifted a shoulder, eyes shifting down to her drink before answering. “I don’t know. You just…you looked so free for a second. I don’t know the last time I’ve seen you look like that.”
A moment passed as I absorbed her words, waiting for her to lift her head and look at me. When she did, her green eyes met mine, and something shifted. My hand reached out on its own, grabbing her hand and squeezing it once.
“Yeah,” I said, lifting my beer to take another sip, holding her gaze. A blush spread across her cheeks, and she changed the subject but kept her hand in mine. We sat like that for awhile until almost midnight, when only a few others lingered in the lodge, the fire burning in the fireplace louder than the conversations of the few remaining guests. It was then that she tipped her head toward the large windows.
“It’s snowing,” she said, and I followed her gaze to where thick, heavy snowflakes were falling gently, illuminated by one of the exterior lights. She stood, grabbing her coat off the couch and shrugging it on, and I followed suit, not sure what she was doing, but in that moment, I think I’d follow her to the ends of the earth if it kept that light, warm feeling stirring in my chest.
When she got to the door, she turned back to look over her shoulder at me, her hands moving behind her neck to tuck her hair out of her jacket. “Want to come check it out?”
The lodge we were staying in was a huge log cabin surrounded by trees that even I could admit would look magical in the snow, so I nodded, opening the door and guiding her outside. We started walking in silence along the side of the lodge, not a soul in sight. I placed my hand on her lower back, and she moved closer to me, my heart pounding as possibilities and maybes raced through my mind. It had been a long time since I felt, or more accurately,letmyself feel attraction to a woman, so caught up in trying to be the best dad I could for Emma, and it felt absolutely wild that this was the time it decided to return.
This wasHallie, after all.
Hallie, who had been around for so long, I couldn’t clearly remember when she became a fixture in my family—just that she always seemed to be there.
Hallie, best friend of my sister, second daughter of my parents, who works for my family’s business. The one who gets all of our family secrets, who laughs at our inside jokes, who has always fit in, and who loves Emma just as much as anyone else in my tight-knit family does.
Hallie, whom I had found myself spending more and more time with over the previous year, making excuses to see or bump into her, had become a fixture in my mind.
I was lost in these thoughts, both exhilarating and confusing, when she hit a patch of the sidewalk where the snow was fresh and lost her footing. The hand on her lower back came in handy as I shifted quickly; my boot caught in the snow with no problem, unlike her soft-bottomed ones, which offered no grip, and I caught her. Her body was pinned to mine, her hands gripping my shoulders tightly before loosening, my arm wrapped around her waist. Her feet found purchase, but I didn’t let go, instead pulling her even closer to me without even thinking.
“Those shoes are trash for the snow,” I whispered, because I’ve told both her and my sister that those types of shoes aren’t really winter boots and are definitely not suitable for a tree farm in winter.
A small smile tipped on her lips. “Can’t exactly complain right now,” she whispered.
I looked down at her, her chin tilted up to look at me, our breaths mingling between us, causing clouds in the cold I can’t even feel right now, not with the way my pulse is pounding, with the way my body is heated.
Slowly, painfully slowly, I dip my head down, giving her a lifetime to push me away, to say no, to say anything, but she doesn’t. Instead, the hands on my neck tighten, pulling me in closer until my lips are on hers. Then we’re kissing, her soft lips pressed to mine in a tentative touch. It’s almost chaste, almost sweet—the perfect, idyllic first kiss—until she sighs into it, her body going lax, her lips parting just a bit, and her tongue slipping out to glide along the seam of mine. I groan into it, taking control, one hand moving to the back of her head to angle her the way I want her, to deepen the kiss, to slide my tongueinto her mouth and tantalize her. She tastes like honey, whiskey, and fuckingHallie, and it was perfect. Everything I never knew I needed—the perfect sweet contrast to me—and when her hands tighten, fingers twining in my hair and pulling, I know we’re on the same page.
I groaned, my hips moving involuntarily into hers, and she sighed into it, pulling me closer. Never in my life had I felt more like I belonged somewhere, as I fit with another person, and through my lust-driven haze, I remember wondering if maybe this is what—or rather who—I had been searching for all along. Eight years of resigning myself to waiting until Emma was out of the house before looking for a partner, and all along, the perfect one was there, waiting for me to open my damn eyes.
I moved us, stepping back into the snow-covered grass until she was pressed to the side of the building, and my hands went down to her ass, gripping and groaning as I got my hands on the ass that had been tormenting me for much longer than I could admit. Without another word, she shifted, jumping so I could lift her, legs wrapping around my hips until they were cradled between hers, and my already hardening cock ground into her center. A moan left her lips as my lips moved from hers, nipping at her chin, then up to those earrings in her ears that have constantly tormented me. I pulled an earlobe into my mouth, teeth scraping at the skin there, and her hand moved to my hair, digging into the back of it and pulling me closer as a low moan escaped her lips. I smiled, thinking about how, somehow, it was like I already knew what she liked, my mind spending the past year daydreaming of all the ways I could touch and taste her.
I was eager to see if my thoughts were all correct, if all of the places I’d dreamed about tasting and touching and nipping would elicit similar reactions.
“My room,” I groan, pulling her closer, my head in her neck, breathing her in.
“What?” she mewled, her hips shifting to get more friction. I chuckled at her distraction, and she sighed.
“My room. You’re sharing with Wren, and I have a room to myself. Come to my room.”
It was the wrong thing to say.
Her entire body went still, frozen in place before her hands
And that’s when it happened: her small hand settled on my chest and pressed there, pushing me away. I look down at her, confused, then see deep regret on her face, her eyes shining, before I quickly step back and set her down, giving her the space she was silently asking for.
Tears shone in her eyes when she spoke. “We can’t. I can’t do this,” she whispered, then pulled away and ran off.
Slowly, I made my way to my room, trying to think of where I went wrong and settling on doing far too much, far too fast. I should have just kissed her, told her I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and asked to go on a date when we got home—dinner or coffee or a movie or literally anything other than pressing her to the side of the wall and grinding my cock into her, making her think I just wanted a quick romp in bed.
Because I was starting to think I wanted a fuck of a lot more than just that with her, and that I’d wanted it for some time.
The next morning, I delayed as much as I could as I packed up my things, buying time and letting the nerves win as I thought through all the things I might encounter when I saw her at breakfast. Would she avoid me? Call me out? Pull me aside and explain? Kiss me?
