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He sits straighter, when he sees me, putting the book aside. “Everything okay?”
He actually sounds concerned, and I almost exhale a laugh-sob. His first impulse is to help me, always. As is Dylan’s, as is Allie’s, as is Jack’s… All of them.
“Yeah, I um…” I look around for an excuse to be here. “I thought I heard a noise.”
His brow relaxes, and his lips press into a smirk. “It was probably Logan and Dylan. They can be loud.”
“I’m sure you’re right.” I nod, even though I made it up.
The house is quiet as a church.
His voice turns firm. “I really don’t like you climbing ladders when I’m not around, especially to decorate a twelve-foot Christmas tree.”
“I told you I’ll be fine.” I step closer to where he’s sitting. “I’ve been managing my condition since I was a teenager.” Looking around, I see the acupressure mat I left him. “Did you try this?”
“Yeah, what kind of sick joke is that?” His voice rises, and I huff the laugh I’ve been holding. “And you called me a psycho. It’s like a torture test.”
“It’s supposed to be relaxing.”
“Are you able to relax on that thing? It’s like lying on a cactus.”
Chewing my lip, I recognize the book he’s holding. “You’re still reading it?”
He turns the light-blue paperback over and growls. “Goddamn Archer. Nobody is this fucking perfect. It’s like setting every man up to fail.”
“You sure are grumpy tonight,” I tease.
“Fair warning, I’m not going to notice whether you like folded chips or not.” He says it on a snap, but it sets off a kaleidoscope of butterflies in my chest.
“Okay.” I take a second to calm my internal squealing. “But you might notice something else?”
His jaw muscle moves, and his blue eyes look past me as if he’s thinking. “You really like grape candy.”
“Grape is definitely the best candy flavor. I don’t know why more people don’t recognize it.”
“And strawberry Pop-Tarts.”
“They’re the only ones that don’t taste artificial.”
I’ve stepped closer to him. Close enough that I could slide my fingers through his silky, dark-brown hair if I wanted. I could lean down and kiss his lips.
Instead, he rises to stand, and shit. At his full height, he towers over me with me in my bare feet.
I lift my chin, arching my neck to look up at him. “You’re so tall.”
He puts his hand on the desk beside me, bending lower. “Better?”
“Mm-hm.” This time I do reach up and thread my fingers in his hair.
I pull his face to mine and cover his lips with a kiss. He scoops his free arm around me, lifting me higher, closer, and our mouths open. Our tongues chase and curl, and that’s all it takes for us to be off to the races.
Our hands are everywhere, touching, grasping. I want to climb him like a tree—I almost do. My fingers curl against the side of his face, and I exhale a noise of pleasure. So much pleasure.
He groans, and it’s a deep vibration against my chest. It feels so good.
Lowering me, he stands higher, moving away. “Give me your phone.”
Frowning, I take it from my pocket and hand it to him. He taps quickly, and in a second, I notice a buzz on the desk.
