Is this tree even legally allowed to exist?
Absolutely not. That’s why we love it.
Somewhere between laughing over an ornament that was definitely an old keychain and bickering over the optimal garland distribution, the silence changed. Not awkward. Not heavy. Just full.
Like the room had been waiting for us to fill it.
“Oh,” I whispered, to no one,aboutnothing, in particular.
“Yeah,” he said. And the way he said it — soft and rough all at once — told me he understood every unspoken thing inside that tiny word.
Without thinking, I reached out and fixed the snowflake that was hanging crooked on the tallest branch. He stepped closer, his chest brushing my shoulder, eyes fixed on the same piece of plastic decoration like it was art.
“We did good,” I said softly.
“We did,” he agreed.
And then he reached over, just barely, and smoothed a strand of hair behind my ear. I leaned in pressing my cheek against his palm.
I liked the decorating.
But I liked thein-betweenparts even more.
CHAPTER 26
Silas
I’m notsure where it came from. Or why the words even left my mouth. But as soon as they had — I knew I was in trouble.
“A really hot bath sounds nice right about now.”
Her eyes darkened, locking on mine. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” but my voice rasped around the word. “I’ll draw you —us— a bath.”
Her neck flushed, but she nodded, teeth worrying her bottom lip.
The bath took too long, and yet there didn’t seem to be enough time between the moment I stepped into the small washroom, and when the clawfoot tub was filled.
As I turned to find her, Colette was already standing in the doorway. “Miss me that quickly?” I teased, but there was no heat behind my words.
“Something like that,” she whispered softly in reply, tugging on the sleeves of my flannel she was wrapped up in.
“Come on, then.” I held my hand out, an invitation. “But close that door behind you.”
She moved as though she were in a dream, almost ethereal in the way she made her way over to me.
I wanted to lock her in this bathroom and keep her.
Which… was a dangerous place to be.
“Need help?” The question hovered between us, my voice rough around the edges, and there was a part of me — a very loud, very reckless part — that was already begging her to say yes.
Colette swallowed, her fingers still twisted in the ends of the flannel I’d lent her. My flannel. That was now hanging off her body like I'd only dreamt of before.
Her gaze flicked down my chest, then up again, and her tongue darted over her bottom lip as if she wasn't meaning to — like she’d forgotten her own body for a second.
God.
