Lost in thought about this, I miss that she has headed to the counter. Ushering the kids after her, I clutch the bouquet. I am not proud of it, but my gaze drops to her heart-shaped ass as she walks, unable to look away from the side-to-side sway.
I am hit with a visceral image of my hands grasping that ass, her bent over in front of me as I ride her from behind. My hands shake as heat floods me from the very thought. Jesus. I’ve never been hit so hard with such need in my life. Reaching the counter, I wait for her to turn back to me, needing to see if she is affected, if she is feeling anything at all.
Her light eyes flicker away from mine, as if afraid to give too much away. Good. That’s a good sign. It is not just me having this...sensation. Feeling a connection ping between the two of us. We tease each other about siblings once I am sure to make it clear this gift is for my sister, these adorable littles are hers, and in fact, I am very interested in finding out more about her siblings or anything else she will share with me.
“Well, you know, once we wrap this gift up, I am taking my niece and nephew out to watch the tree lighting,” I hold my breath as her fingers brush mine as I pass her the bouquet. Deep breath. In. Out. Pushing forward, I ask what I can’t help but ask. “Then it is all the pumpkin pie we can shove in our faces. Want to tell me about it all over pie and Christmas lights?”
“Oh....” It is not a word that passes from her pretty pink lips.Just a sound. A startled one at that.
Those bright eyes of hers go big before her face flushes, her chin tucking to her chest. A shake of her head, a refusal, makes my heart crack a little. I am panicked. Worried I said or did something wrong. Wondering how I can fix it. How can I make her want to see me again, how can I make her want to tell me everything there is to know about her?
How can I make her want to celebrate the holidays with me?
Before I figure out a single thing, our transaction is over. Not just that, she is all but kicking us out of the store. I said something wrong. I can see it in the sad darkness of her pretty eyes. I do not want to go. I cannot explain it, but I hate the idea of leaving her here by herself to be upset. I stutter an apology before we get to the door. It sounds hollow, strange. I can’t go yet.
“Hey, honey,” I lower my voice as I reach out, brushing some wild curls back from her brow. I want to touch her. I’ve never felt this sort of thing before, so I am clueless about right or wrong. “Is there something…is everything ok?”
My touch lingers on her face, my gloved index finger tracing her jaw. Her heart rate quickens. I note it in the thrum of her pulse at her throat. A desire to drag my lips over the silky skin there hits me. I swallow hard, stepping back because what the hell is going on with me?
Outside, I hear carolers again. It is as if they’ve intruded on the moment between us. Softness fades from her eyes as she tilts her chin up. I fight back a smile because it just makes her even cuter. Still, she wants to be stubborn and strong, so I let her be whatever she wants.
“Yes. I am fine. Please go. Have a good evening,” her tone softens as I step back, putting some safe distance between us.
I still do not want to go. I want to convince her to lock up the pretty little flower shop to come with us. I would love to seeher under the shining lights of the huge holiday tree they will light with twinkling lights tonight. Again, I am hit with a vision of her, naked beneath a similar tree, her skin glowing as I cradle her close, our bodies entwined as much as the rest of us is.
What is this sweet, sad woman doing to me?
“Come on, Niko! I want to see Santa!
Blinking from my filthy thoughts of taking the pretty flower girl any way she will let me, I shake my head. This is not the time or place. Doesn’t stop my head from flooding with endless thoughts of her. Naked in a bed of rose petals, my head between her thighs as she cries out my name. Tangled up in sheets and twinkling Christmas lights as she takes me in her mouth.
“Knock it off, you sad, sick man,” I tell myself, glancing back at the shop. I hesitate because for a moment, I swear I see her watching us.
Shaking myself, I set those thoughts, those desires, aside for now. I take the tiny hands of my niece and nephew leaving the store behind me. At least for now—for tonight. I stop long enough to load the big bouquet in the back of my truck. We make our way to the park just in time to join the festivities.
Between glasses of sweet hot chocolate, visits with Santa, and even a bit of singing with the group of carolers, I still cannot shake the flower girl. I have never had a real relationship with a woman. My parents were amazing and so in love it was sometimes almost saccharine sweet to watch them. It taught me to have high standards for the people I care about. For the people I make time for and make an effort with.
I am almost thirty, and sure I’ve dated here or there, but no one has ever stuck. No one has ever been worth it. Sutton was married right out of high school to my best friend Edward. When he died two years ago, we were both devastated and all my focus shifted to her and their kids. Having someone to call mine or tocome home to was just not a priority.
“It is so beautiful no matter what else is going on,” Sutton murmurs beside me as she hoists Ava up on her hip. We got here just in time to meet up with her after the diner closed. I smile down at my sister, nodding as we stare up at the big tree the entire town turned out to see.
Besides one sad, sweet flower shop girl.
“It is. We’ve got a surprise for you,” I admit with a grin between Ava and Evan.
“Do you? You always have loved celebrating anything you can.”
“Yes, I do,” I tell her, hooking an arm over her shoulder as we start to head from the park, walking the short distance to their little house. Dropping them off, I promise the kids to bring our surprise tomorrow, Thanksgiving. “We always have to celebrate the things that count. Love you guys. See you tomorrow for all the turkey and pumpkin pie we can stand!”
Both the kids laugh as I shout the words as I walk back off her front porch. Sutton laughs too, shaking her head at how much of a nerd I am without shame. Laughing, I turn to head back towards the park so I can call it a night. Climbing behind the wheel, I catch sight of the flower arrangement behind me. It makes my heart thump—not because I am proud to be doing something for my little sister, but because of the woman who put it together.
Something that beautiful, with so much spirit, so much joy in it, proves one thing. That sad shop girl might hate the holidays—but once upon a time she did not. What I said before to my sister is true. We should celebrate all the things that count. I love to celebrate others, to bring joy or happiness.
This Christmas will be complete if I can get my sad shop girl to celebrate along with us.
Chapter Three
Nova
