Page 10 of The Holiday Inheritance

He jogs off, and I smile as I watch him go. That ass in those boxer briefs should come with a warning. I stand, avoiding the spilled wine, and tidy up our blankets, plates, and glassware. I’m just throwing a folded blanket onto the back of the sectional when he comes walking back in, rag in hand and cheeks red. When he catches my eye, he looks shy.

“What’s wrong?”

He shrugs and presents me with a piece of lined yellow paper. “I hope—I dunno. I just…I hope this doesn’t upset you.”

I can feel my brows knit together as he starts cleaning, and I start reading.

Trudged over early this morning when there was a break in the snow. Figured you’d need some help checking the generators or stirring the fires. Looks like someone else beat me to it ;) Have fun, be safe. I’ll be back over once the storm clears. — Mary

“Oh…my god.”

“Yeah,” he grunts from the floor. “Whoops.”

I look out the window, seeing the snow has not let up. It’s piled up past the windowsill now. “How did she even get over here?” I ask, probably sounding a bit more hysterical than I mean to.

“Mary takes her job very seriously.” His tone is still joking, but he refuses to look at me. Instead, he wipes the same spot on the floor over and over again. There’s no wine left, and there’s no stain. It’s like he’s too, what? Ashamed? Embarrassed? “She would get here if the snow was ten feet high just to make sure this place was still standing.”

“I—” I start, but can’t really get the words out. I’m trying my hardest not to laugh. Because this is most certainly something that would happen to me. It’s just my luck that on my first day aswoman of the house, or whatever, I would be caught half-naked with an employee. Christ. “I’m so sorry,” I get out before I snort, and my hand flies to my mouth to cover up the embarrassment.

He looks up, humor twinkling in those dark eyes. “You just snorted.”

“Shut up.”

Briggs laughs, one strong cackle of a laugh as he stands and tosses the stained-purple rag onto the hearth. “Did you just tell me to shut up, little duck?”

I narrow my eyes at him, a flirty reproach that he sees right through. Or ignores. “You should never point out a lady’s flaws,” I scold.

He hums, closing the distance between us, taking my face in his hands. My god, this man is good. Every time he’s about to kiss me, he holds me so close, so carefully. His palms are warm, and one of his thumbs traces my bottom lip.

“Shall I point out your assets instead?” His eyebrow does a perfect arch, melting my panties all over again. “Like how you give me the sweetest little moans when I’m inside of you?”

I blush…furiously.

“Or how these cute, round cheeks blush so prettily when you’re embarrassed?”

I roll my eyes.

“How about how kind you are to the people who work here?” he asks, continuing like he’s not flustering the fuck out of me. “I heard all about you after you came to visit that first time.What a sweet girl, they all said.So kind, so interested in everything we do. She’s going to be great.”He pauses, kissing the tip of my nose. “For an American, anyway.”

I scoff and push on his chest, but he grabs me, laughing as he pulls me flush against him. “Hush, pretty girl. You’re perfect, even with that Yank accent of yours. I actually find it endearing.”

“Oh, do you?” I ask, my voice laced with sarcasm. I wish I could tease him about his accent, but there’s no way I could be convincing. Because it’s the single most sexy thing I’ve ever heard. Especially when filthy things are being said.

“I do,” he says, nodding and playing with the ends of my hair. “And your eyes?” he asks, locking his gaze with my own. “Green in the sunlight and honey-colored in the firelight.” He makes a desperate little noise. “Beautiful.”

He leans in, glancing his lips against my own. I can feel myself falling into him, our breaths mixing as our mouths barelytouch. Briggs holds me up, supports my weight against his own. I love how tall he is. It’s rare that I get to be so dwarfed by a man, and I’m finding it intoxicating.

“Don’t you want to say anything nice about me?”

I break out in laughter, my head falling back. But he just smiles and catches it, pulling my mouth immediately back to his, where he kisses me like his life damn near depends on it. His tongue dives in, exploring and savoring. The feeling of his hands holding me to him just sets my nerves on fire.

“So you aren’t worried about her knowing?” he asks, his voice rough from the kiss. His eyes are wary, looking at me like I might give him the news he doesn’t want to hear.

But I shake my head back and forth slowly. “I’m not.” I run my hands over the strong muscles of his back. “Are you?”

“I thought I would be,” he admits. “Last night, beforeeverything.” His chuckle is soft and sweet. “I was worried I was overstepping, that I should keep my goddamn dick in my trousers. But then you were in the kitchen, swinging your hips with those white cotton knickers peeking out beneath your shirt.” He bites his lip and grins. “Nothing could’ve prepared me for that.”

Without warning, he grabs my hand and pushes me away before spinning me under his arm and pulling my back into his chest. He wraps me up, one hand holding mine against my chest and the other resting gently against my stomach. His hips start to sway to invisible music, and I let my head fall back onto his shoulder. A soft kiss is pressed to my temple, that stubble tickling my cheek.

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