Page 13 of Accidentally Under Your Tree

"Why'd you get married?"

It wasn't a question too far, as much as the answer was too complicated. My thumb swiped one last time over the folded ridge of the label.

My chest rose as I sucked in a deep breath of air before blowing it out of my pursed lips.

With a lopsided grin, I turned to face her again. "Should we leave something to unpack for the second date?"

She rolled her lips between her teeth, fighting her smile. Her knee inched a little closer. "We haven't discussed a first date yet."

"How do you feel about hitting fast-forward and calling tonight date number one?"

"Mm-hm."

"I could pick you up from your parents like your prom date," I joked.

She snorted. "God, no."

My smile was too big.

What is this woman doing to me?

"Can I get your phone number?" I would normally find her on Instagram and DM her, but my profile was full of lies at the moment. Comments from strangers celebrating me and Rose announcing our relationship.

It'd been spontaneous, and I was regretting it now. How single had I become that the prospect of meeting someone hadn't even crossed my mind?

Lizzy's eyes flicked to mine. She held her hand palm up, and my fingers grazed hers as I handed her my phone. Electricity shot up my wrist. Her fingertips were cold. I wanted to press them to my neck to warm them. I wanted to brush my lips over them. I wanted to draw a line along her jaw to her mouth with mine.

I shifted, my pants were uncomfortably tight.

She tapped her number into my contacts and handed the phone back.

It sat between us on the bar top, forgotten by the conversation happening between our eyes. Hers questioning and tentative. Mine wanting—offering. After a few silent breaths, she entwined her fingers in mine, our palms pressed together. My other hand gripped white knuckled to the back of her seat.

All my blood rushed to where her knee connected with the inside of my thigh. The anticipation finally brought to volition. Every sensation and thought came from that single point. Sparking, muddled ideas. Half-formed impulses barely restrained.

With each breath, we found space and drifted inch by inch nearer. She tilted her head. Sweet and tart air drifted around her—cranberry from her drinks.

When her lips touched mine, tension broke loose in my chest. A fresh need finally fulfilled.

She sighed, and I felt it in my core.

Lizzy

Seven nights Before Christmas

I had never been so bold.

I pressed my palm to Will's. It was just as strong and rough as I'd imagined. I'd started the descent into the space between our mouths. I did that.

Goddamn, boldness was paying off.

Will kissed like my mouth was his last meal, and he needed to savor every taste and texture. Like I was sacred. Invaluable.

It was heady. Drifting on the current of sensations—the ache throbbing between my legs, the heat of his other hand drifting from my back to my hip—my mind blissfully empty. There weren't any self-judgments. They'd evaporated to make room for the bombardment of desire.

Had I ever wanted anything this badly? I didn't know whether to curse this bar for being public or thank it. If we were alone, I would have climbed on his lap by now. Where would his hands go if I straddled him? His mouth?

Then he groaned deep in his throat, and his thumb ran along the tender flesh over my pulse, and I cursed this public place. Fuck this bar. Fuck polite society. I wanted to wrap my naked body around his. If I could will my clothes to disappear, they'd be gone.

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