Page 28 of The Sleight Before Christmas

“We’re crystal, and you won’t have to,” I assure before he hangs up.

Fucking dick.

Resisting the urge to close my eyes, Allen shoots me another pleading look as I decide to try and help him as best I can.

“Right there, Allen. From where I’m standing, it’s perfect. No gaps.”

Ruby looks over to me and steps back a little further before giving Allen a decisive nod. “It’ll do,” she says, “thanks, Thatch.”

“No problem,” I say, as Allen grumbles about me not being the one to ‘drag the fucking thing in.’ A second later, Allen warily eyes the boundless boxes of Christmas décor currently filling their living room. As if on cue, Brenden stalks in from the front door, eyes zeroing in on the enormous spruce pine as he speaks up.

“It’s crooked, tilted a little too far right, Mom,” he reports as Allen shoots him a death glare.

“Oh?” Ruby tilts her head in response as Allen runs a finger across his throat for his grinning teenage son. Brenden, the second born of the three Collins siblings, is no less outspoken than his sisters. In fact, I have a suspicion his sisters’ collective candor has made him a bit more of a daredevil. Evidence of that is in the satisfied look in his eyes with the further aggravated state of his father. I can’t help chuckling as he gives me a knowing salute, which I lift my chin to before he stalks toward his bedroom.

Still rattled by my call with Joshua to engage in any more conversation, I slip out the back door. Not missing Allen’s “oh God, now what?” before he and Ruby begin to comically bicker. Nervous energy flitting through me, I stalk back to the woodworking station I set up on the deck before I decided to brave the call. A call that never fails to set my nerves alight. Joshua’s typical, needless, and over-the-top antics only adding to my stress.

Asshole.

But as usual, I’m at his mercy, and I have no fucking choice but to play my part. Resuming where I left off, I position the wood against the table saw. I started fucking around with woodworking after Allen and I finished the deck. My latest obsession is perfecting bevel and chamfer cuts to attempt to create more ornate, intricate edging. Not long after I start, I become blissfully lost in the workings of my hands. Only pulled from concentration when I somehowfeelher approaching before her boots sound on the deck.

“You stood me up, Handy Man.”

“Had something come up,” I offer, keeping my eyes lowered. “Didn’t have your number.”

“Then give me your cell phone. I’ll put it in,” Serena offers.

“Don’t have one of those at the moment.”

“You don’t have a phone?”

“Not today,” I counter with edge, embarrassment threatening as I keep my eyes lowered.

“Okay, jeez, vague much?”

“Vague always,” I turn to take her in and immediately regret it. Her gorgeous locks are swept back in a sleek ponytail, which I immediately picture wrapping into my fist. Her latest form-fitting, cropped sweater is bright white. The deep scoop neck giving a peek of mouth-watering cleavage. Today, she’s dressed to hurt me. My suspicion only confirmed when her pouty lips lift in satisfaction at my thorough once-over. No doubt a ploy to make me regret no-showing last night. Her tactic working because, at present, I can’t rip my fucking eyes away.

It’s then I realize there’s my attraction for women, and then there’s my attraction for Serena Collins—which are not one and the same. That truth hammered home as bated seconds pass because no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop picturing what I shouldn’t be. Especially the stretch of her mouth around my cock, or the look of us connecting as I sink into her. As of now, I can’t stop imagining the part of her lips while driving into her for the first time. Of making it hurt so she never forgets it—or me. Of making it so fucking good after, she’ll summon the replay for weeks or months. Lost in the sight of her, I imagine what her palm-sized tits would look like with my marks covering them.

Allen’s daughter, asshole!

“It’s too bad I only have one joint left,” she drops just as intentionally. Translation—last chance, Thatch.

“A real shame,” I counter, flicking my eyes up to her smirking mouth and purposeful lack of gloss. Battling the urge to act on the dozen fantasies forming in my mind, it’s only when she greets Allen that I fully snap out of my stupor. Fakinga pencil line on the wood I’m working with, I keep my eyes averted as his boots sound on the deck.

“Hey, Daddy,” Serena greets him, her tone saccharin. “It looks really good out here.”

In a call of bullshit, I catch her inquisitive gaze and accompanying smirk just as she quirks a brow in an unspoken question of ‘tonight?’ When I give her the faint dip of my chin, she flashes me a soul-snatching smile. Satisfied, she pulls Allen in for a hug.

“You two really did the damned thing out here,” she says, seemingly sincere with her compliment. “I mean it. This deck is beautiful.”

Pride swelling, I flit my own gaze to the pattern of the weathering wood that Allen and I carefully planned out before hammering each board in. Allen thanks her as his own eyes trail appreciatively along the massive deck. Our careful planning making the wood more like a natural extension of the house. The addition only amplifies the view past the neighborhood to the distant rolling hills beyond. Though it took us months to finish because of my inexperience, Allen patiently and painstakingly schooled me every step of the way.

I wasn’t bullshitting Serena when I told her Allen had taught me a lot about carpentry. In doing so, he introduced me to a lot more than a way to distract myself and help me get through my personal shit. He also gave me a glimpse of a possible light at the end of a very long tunnel. An avenue I intend on pursuing as far as I can.

But first things first, and that’s my imminent exit. Though, it’s the girl dressed in dark jeans and a bright white sweater who has me becoming less anxious to hasten it—the reason I intentionally didn’t venture to the shed last night. Ironically, and now, the very reason I decide not to miss my closing window with her tonight.

I’ll have earned my freedom in a week or two, which should only relieve me. But gaining that freedom now means leaving Ruby, Allen, Serena, and the rest of the Collins family behind. A family who has taken me in and shielded me from the shit show that is my life. The idea of them filling my rearview has me sinking in my skin as her eyes weigh heavy on my profile. Allen greets me warmly before he checks my work, full of encouragement. Unable to help myself, I trail the girl who just sent my chest pumping and catch the sweet upturn of her sinful lips as she walks through the back door of the house. Our eyes holding briefly through the glass as she pulls it closed.

---