I knew she and her dad did everything they could to honor her memory by carrying on her traditions. Dustin and I have always gotten along; he was also still close with my parents, and I would often swing by with baked treats from my mom on my way home. Something I kept to myself and had a feeling Dustin did, too.
“When?” She tucked her lips between her teeth, willing herself to bite back her emotions if I had to guess.
“I pay attention.” I stepped closer, just within reach, to gently brush my thumb along the delicate curve of her cheek, wiping away the dampness. Her lips parted in surprise, sending a jolt of awareness through us, snapping us both back to our senses.
“Okay, um . . . yeah, this look works better.” Her eyes did a quick perusal of me from head to toe. “Let’s repeat the poses in front of the tree and maybe undo your dress shirt’s top two or three buttons.”
The moment was over before it started as her professional mask slid back into place. Whoever said posing was easy never stood in my shoes because I was fighting an uphill battle, torn between coaxing her out of her shell and wanting to lay my feelings on the table.
I dug deep, piercing the lens with everything I had while trepidation stared back at me. There was fear mixed with longing hiding behind her eyes. She was a woman who had experienced the loss of a parent at a young age, and while mine were still very much alive and blissfully in love, albeit embarrassingly so sometimes, I wasn’t naive enough to discount how that experience could profoundly shape a person’s outlook on life.
Arizona dated here and there but never seemed overly interested in putting herself out there. Yet, she gave absolutely everything she had in the tank to her dad, friends, and the job. I was constantly in awe of her selfless spirit, always going the extra mile for those in her circle.
I wanted to be in that circle.
I desperately wanted to be the man she’d let in her heart because she’d owned mine for as long as I could remember.
“Okay, we’re almost done here. Now, take the lid off the box and tilt it upward off the back.”
Her finger clicked away on the camera’s trigger button.
“I think that’s it,” she announced, pulling me from my thoughts. “Whatever I don’t submit for the calendar, I can give you to post on your socials.”
“Not necessary. I deleted my accounts a while ago. It wasn’t really my thing.” Not when the only attention I wanted was from her, I thought absentmindedly, as I dropped the empty present to the floor and plucked a candy cane off my tree, pulling at the plastic wrap while she grabbed her bag and hurried toward the front door.
“You’re always in a rush to leave when I’m around.”
“It’s late and?—”
“And . . .” I followed her over and leaned against the wall with a smirk, knowing damn well I was about to play with fire.
She eyed me with suspicion, and rightfully so.
I pulled the candy cane from between my lips, all the while loving the feel of her eyes on me. Heated with hunger. Questioning if, given a choice, would she rather have a taste of me or lick the stripes off my candy cane?
I wasn’t a betting man like my other half, but my desire to know was strong.
“You claim to love Christmas just as much as I do, and yet, if you’re not careful, you’re about to commit a cardinal sin.”
Her brows knitted together in confusion before she froze, her eyes widening in alarm. I longed to run the edge of my tongue up the column of her neck as she tilted her chin up. The second her eyes landed on the mistletoe, she gasped and took a tentative step back.
As if that would save her from me.
“Willing to chance bad luck?”
“Jameson.”
“Ari,” I bantered and stepped forward, willing her to meet me halfway.
Instead, she gave me her back and slipped her shoes on.
I tossed the candy cane on the kitchen counter behind me and jammed my hands in my pants pockets before I did something reckless. The need to pull her into my sphere was too potent. But then she shocked the shit out of me as I wallowed in the depths of my self-inflicted pity when her hands grabbed me by the sides of my head and tugged me forward.
God, she was a drug.
A drug I was addicted to even though I’d only ever tasted her mouth.
I was a goner.
