Page 30 of Holly, Jolly, and Oh So Naughty

What. A. Night.

The auction was a roaring success. We raised so much money that I can barely fathom the final amount, and it’s all thanks to an influx of interest online. I expected to reach a few nearby artist groups, but somehow, we caught the attention of people with real money.

People who paid by instant bank transfer.

I still need to verify each of the payments myself, but that can come later.

And then, in all the excitement and shock at the success of the night, I’d leapt off the stage and into James’s arms, complicating everything with a kiss.

The presence of his lips continues to tingle against my mouth, and I run my fingertips across my lower lip.

It was a good kiss.

A great kiss.

An achingly familiar kiss that never should have happened. I gave in to weakness. We didn’t have much chance to discuss the kiss after the fact because the crowd whisked me away, and by the time we said goodnight, I didn’t want to dive into a complicated conversation.

So we parted ways.

Home feels eerily quiet after the chaos of the auction. Walking into the kitchen, I’m greeted by a bottle of wine and a note from my mother telling me she brought Emma home, and they both will likely be asleep by the time I read this.

I immediately head to Emma’s room. True enough, she’s fast asleep with one arm flung wide, and several stuffed animals have been knocked loose, lying on the floor. I tidy them quietly, kiss Emma’s forehead, and then sneak out before my presence can disturb her.

My mother is fast asleep in the guest room, and affection warms my heart to see the two of them safe and comfortable. As I head to the bathroom, I text my father quickly so he knows I got home safe and that Mom is safe and sound.

With the door acting as a barrier between me and the world, my thoughts quickly loop back around to James.

That kiss—such a small thing, yet I can’t get it out of my head. I replay how he helped me with my dress and how electric his touch was against my skin. Convincing myself that it was just nerves simply didn’t work because he made me feel like this all those years ago.

But then he left. I remind myself of that quickly. He abandoned me, refused to take my calls. He sent hismotherto deal with me instead, and the horrible words she used still sting to this day.

But that kiss…

Maybe it’s the alcohol warming my veins or the delight of such a fantastic evening, but everything else just feels like useless noise. I stare at myself in the mirror as I remove my jewelry, and I can almost picture him here with me.

He’d remove my dress with the same tender care he applied when helping me into it. He’d move my hair from my shoulder and kiss my neck, leaving heat flushing through me like a bubbling fountain.

“Stop it, Lily,” I murmur, eyeing my reflection. “You’ve been down this path.”

It was such a good path, though.

Discarding my dress, I step under the powerful jet spray of my shower and close my eyes.

For a few minutes, there’s nothing but the patter of the water bouncing off my skin and the surrounding peach tiles, the gurgle from the drain as the water flows, and the welcoming warmth from the water washing over my shoulders and down my body.

I tip my head forward and allow the pressure spray to work its magic against the back of my neck and down my shoulders. Each drop is like a masseuse’s talented fingers working against the tension in all my muscles.

Then, it becomes James. His hands gripping my shoulders and working his thumb deep into my muscles. The steam from the shower becomes his heated presence behind me, urging me tojust lean back and feel the solid press of his muscular chest. The rush of the water catching on the edge of my hair turns into his breath as he waits to whisper sweet things in my ear?—

No.

I can’t. Forcing those thoughts away, I turn to face the spray of the shower and hold my breath as a thousand droplets of water pelt me. It’s not enough to push James completely away from my thoughts, but it does let me focus long enough to wash myself the best I can.

Unfortunately, whether it’s from my lack of willpower, tiredness, or the fact that the success of tonight just makes everything else feel easy, James returns to the forefront of my thoughts when I leave the shower.

In my bedroom, with the door closed and the lights down low, he sends me a text. It’s just a simple thank you for attending with him and goodnight with a kiss.

Does that mean something? Is he trying to tell me something or am I looking too far into it?

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