I find Jonah in the living room, digging a tree stand out of the closet, along with a few cardboard boxes. I go over to help him, but accidentally bump into him as he turns around, my chest knocking into his shoulder.
“Sorry!” I hop out of the way and grab one of the boxes, unsure what’s in it but determined to help. He reaches for it at the same time, and we collide again. “I’m so clumsy sometimes,” I laugh. “That’s like the third time I’ve bumped into you today. I promise I’ll pay more attention.”
“It’s fine, I swear.” Jonah scratches the back of his neck and looks away.
He picks up the tree stand, and makes a beeline for the corner of the living room, where the tree is propped up against the wall. He quickly assembles the stand and gets the fat little tree in it standing upright.
“Does it look straight to you?”
“Definitely!” I squeak.
“Great.” Jonah dusts off his hands and stands up.
We stand in silence, just looking at one another, both unsure what to do now. Despite the implication of our conversation at the tree farm earlier, the one that communicated that as soon as we got home we were going to tear one another’s clothes off, neither one of us makes a move.
“Um,” I say, fiddling with the hem of my dress, and then glancing back at him.
“Nervous?” Jonah asks.
“Yeah,” I admit. “I am. I don’t know why since we were together last night but…”
“It’s all new to me as well, Winnie. Whatever is between us, I mean. And when you’re ready, I’m open to trying to figure it out.” Jonah steps towards me and tentatively places a hand on my waist. Having him close to me like this makes it harder to think, harder to breathe, harder to do anything other thanfeel.
I don’t know what to say to him. My mind is completely scattered. Somehow, Jonah and I have gone from instant dislike to whatever this full bodied addiction to one another is, and I have no idea what it means. And fear still makes me hesitate—if I get too close to Jonah,they’llfind a way to take him from me. Still, I lean into his touch, electrified by the heat of his hand on my waist, the feel of his breath against my cheek, the smell of his cologne, mingling with the scent of pine needles and sap.
“Why don’t we decorate the tree?” Jonah leans in and softly places a kiss on my cheek.
I nod, grateful that he can sense my confusion and is giving me space to feel it, rather than pushing me to talk. Jonah grabs one of the cardboard boxes and flips it open on the coffee table. He removes a string of lights, and tosses me one end.
We start decorating the tree, winding the lights around it together. The smell of sap and fresh pine fills my nose, and makes me smile. I love Christmas, or at least, I’ve always lovedthe idea of Christmas. I’ve never been able to celebrate it the way I want to, but that hasn’t stopped me from dreaming about it.
While Jonah untangles the second strand of lights, I start softly singing “Deck the Halls.” Soon, Jonah starts harmonizing with me, and I feel brave enough to sing more loudly. By the time we hit the final verse, I’m basically belting it, and as we go into the final lines, Jonah plugs the lights in and the entire tree lights up.
“It looks perfect,” I say, surveying our work. It’s not a large tree, and we crammed a ton of lights onto it. It lights up the entire space with a warm, cheerful glow.
“Here,” Jonah says, passing me a box of ornaments.
I flip open the white lid and find rows of delicately carved wooden ornaments, each painted. “Did you make these?”
“Sort of. My dad taught me how to carve wood when I was a kid, and we worked on these together. I wasn’t good enough to do details yet, so a lot of that is his doing.”
I think back to our wedding day, and the carved rose he pressed into my hands. I’ve kept it on my nightstand ever since, and wondered where he found it. “But you carved the rose you gave me at our wedding, right?”
“I did. It took me a few years to be able to do something so intricate.”
“You’re really talented.” I pick up one of the wooden ornaments and examine it. It’s a toy soldier, holding a small wooden rifle over his shoulder. “You sing, you play guitar, you can carve roses from wood and craft rings from steel. What can’t you do?”
“Not much,” he says, giving me a smug smile. His eyes trail over my body, and I’m reminded of how short my dress is, and how low it dips in the front. If I’d worn this around my parents, my mom probably would have said I looked cheap. But the weight of Jonah’s gaze makes me feel sensual and treasured.
I set the box of ornaments down and rest my hands on Jonah’s chest. “I don’t feel nervous anymore.”
“Good.” He grins down at me and then leans in, his lips pressing into mine. As our lips meet, I feel desire sweep through me and I curl my fingers around Jonah’s shoulders, needing something to anchor me upright. His hands span my back, and I can feel the heat of him through my dress.
His kiss turns from gentle to demanding, and I open for him, letting him taste me fully. We were frantic for one another last night, and it seems like none of that desire has dampened. I can’t stop myself from letting out a sigh of pleasure as his hands roam lower and tug my hips flush against his.
He deepens the kiss, his tongue grazing my bottom lip, and groans, the sound low and deep in his throat. Jonah might be a man of few words, but he’s saying plenty right now. I can feel how much he wants this—wantsme.It’s like he’s pouring everything he feels into this kiss.
It lights me on fire, and I pull him even closer, hitching one leg up and around him, needing him to know how deeply I want this. How thoroughly gone for him I am. Jonah catches my thigh in his hand, and then sweeps upwards, under the hem of my dress. His mouth paints a line of flame down my neck, to the top of my breasts, and he tugs on the neckline, exposing the top of the red bra I’m wearing.
