Page 56 of Christmas Wishes

“Massages. But instead of an above-the-covers, naked oil massage, this might need to be under a couple of blankets.”

Riggs chuckled. “A massage is a massage.” He grabbed another of the Greek cookies before pulling me to my feet and practically pushing me down the hallway to his room, with me giggling the whole way.

Chapter29

Riggs

Keatonand I quietly ate the breakfast he’d made. It was surprisingly delicious for not being freshly cooked on the stove. He was still insisting on keeping electrical use limited to the heater and hot water for the shower we’d taken together after mutual massages and more frotting. Jesus, I couldn’t get enough of the way his body fit against mine. I could’ve been convinced to skip breakfast and stay in bed, but my growling stomach had betrayed me.

I’d never had overnight oats, but it seemed like a hearty and nutritious breakfast. I might need to ask him to show me how to do it so I could make that for myself after he left. It would make a better start to my days than toast and some sodium-laden microwaved monstrosity.

For the past few mornings, Keaton had tempered his chatterbox, morning-person energy, which I appreciated deeply. Quiet mornings helped me get centered before the day came at me. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you liked it.” He could’ve elaborated about other breakfast meals he liked to cook, how he’d made it, or started talking about some other random topic like he had at the beginning of his stay. Instead, he picked up his coffee and hummed while taking a sip.

“For that, but also for giving me quiet in the mornings.”

Keaton’s eyes widened before his lips curved into a pleased smile.

I could’ve stopped there, but I forced more words out. “And you noticed what I needed. Most people don’t.” Admitting that stung, but instead of the words falling awkwardly between us like shattered glass, Keaton knocked his foot against mine and gave me a sweet smile.

“You’re worth paying attention to.”

Jesus. Why did that simple sentence have the back of my eyes stinging?

“I’ve got an idea for today. We’re snowed in, right?”

I seized the change of subject like a ring buoy. I’d done a check of the house and surrounding trees once there was enough light, and there weren’t any issues that needed my immediate attention. “Yes. The worst of the wind is supposed to pass this morning, and the temperature should rise by the end of the day. I got a report that there’s a tree down, blocking the road to town. We should be able to get out tomorrow.”

Be honest with yourself. You don’t want to leave Keaton today.Yeah, that too.

“Perfect.” He steepled his fingers and dropped his elbows on the table ominously. “When I first drove up to the house last Monday, I noticed your place is the only one on the road with no holiday decorations.”

I grimaced. “I suppose you want to do something about that?”

“Just my novice take, but it seems like an electrician should have some electrical-based decorations at the holidays. It could be a good proof of skills.”

There were a few big leaps in his logic, but I was following. Though, as I thought about it, driving home to a dark house each night hadn’t been helping my mood once neighbors had begun putting their decorations out after Thanksgiving. I didn’t want to live in a dark cave any longer. Nico would hate to know how I’d been living. The guilt of that made it even harder to make changes.

“What did you have in mind? There’s a storm outside,” I reminded him.

Keaton waved his hand. “You said yourself that the worst of the wind is passing. We can take a hot shower together when we’re done.”

I chuckled. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“I assume Nico left decorations?” I appreciated that he didn’t quiet his voice when he said Nico’s name, like giving it barely more than a whisper would cause me pain.

I nodded. “Bundle up then. It’s cold in the garage.”

An hour later, after some spontaneous making out against the dishwasher after I cleaned up, I pulled tubs off their shelves in the garage to show Keaton what Nico had collected. I’d lived in an apartment and didn’t have outdoor decorations. The few indoor decorations I had were still in the storage unit I’d dumped my stuff in when I moved into Nico’s house.

Keaton whistled. “Nico was organized.” He nodded his approval as he stood with his hands on his hips.

“There’s white icicle lights, these red-and-white-striped rope lights, and multicolor bulbs.” Nico usually switched things up a bit each year. Few people ever saw his decorations since there weren’t many houses down the road beyond his, but he went all out each year anyway because he enjoyed coming home to it each night.

Was I missing out by not doing things like that for myself? I hadn’t given much brain power to that before, but watching Keaton giddily dig through the tubs had me wondering what else I’d been missing out on.

“How about the multicolor lights along the gutters? Keep it simple?” He sounded encouraging, but his attention kept wandering to the other lights.

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