“It’s not her party, and I’m the one paying for everything.” He glances out the window. “A bonfire sounds good right about now. Let’s drag this baby outside and torch it.”
Grinning, I shake my head. “Boys will be boys.”
“Yes, they will,” he drawls with pride.
“Alright, Mr. Torch Fingers, where do we go from here?”
“Grab that end.”
We drag the tree to the backyard, decorations and all. Axel gets lighter fluid from the garage and some long matches. When he lights the tree, it goes up in a fiery ball of flames.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” he proclaims with triumph.
It’s bitter cold—the kind of cold that seeps into the bones and makes everything stiff. A few snowflakes drift in the air. I hold out my hands to the fire, welcoming the warmth. Axel steps close and drapes an arm around my shoulder. The gesture is so natural that we might’ve been together for years.
“Should we give it a proper send-off?”
I chuckle. “Thought we already did.”
He begins singing, “‘Oh, Christmas Tree, Oh, Christmas Tree, your leaves are never changing.’”
“Um, I don’t think that’s true in this case.”
He sighs dramatically. “I guess you’re right. New song.Joy to the World, the Lord is Come.”
I join in, and we harmonize. We sing a couple more Carols, not stopping until the fire dwindles down to a few tendrils of smoke.
“Well,” he says solemnly, “it was a good tree.”
“There’s never a dull moment with you, is there?”
“I certainly hope not.” He pulls me into his arms. “Wanna dance?”
“Are you not freezing?”
“Yeah, that’s why we need to get our bodies moving.” He twirls me around before bringing me back in. He slows our movements, swaying back and forth. “I know one thing we could do to keep warm.”
“Go inside?”
His mouth lifts in a crooked grin. “That too, but it wasn’t what I had in mind.”
The look in his eyes tells me exactly what he wants.
My heart pounds as he leans in. “Didn’t we agree to no kissing?”
“These are extenuating circumstances.”
“Uh, huh.”
He brushes against my lips with tender persuasion. An ache pulses through me as I sigh. Gauging my acceptance, he kisses me softly and deliberately, causing my head to swim with desire. This time, I’m the one who deepens the kiss. A groan escapes my throat as I press my mouth harder against his. Just like that, I’m no longer standing in a frozen backyard but flying high into the rushing river of the wind.
When the kiss is over, he wraps his arms around me and murmurs in my ear. “Your theory is officially debunked. This is no fluke.”
My eyes go misty. “No fluke,” I say hoarsely. This is real.
So exquisite.
So thrilling.
