Page 44 of Stocking Stuffers
She reached up and cupped his jaw sloppily, her eyelids losing their fight against sleep.
“No. Not like this.”
Chapter Eight
The sound of large machinery crunching through the snow woke Sasha up at eight in the morning.
Snowplow.
The snowfall was supposed to have stopped around seven, and Valerie had obviously hired a plow to clear the driveway. The temperature was set to jump above freezing around eight thirty, which should melt the remaining ice on the hill and make it possible for Sasha to leave. There was only a short window, though, as a second round of snow and freezing temperatures was on its way later in the morning.
She watched Perry sleep for several minutes, trying to urge her body out of bed and away from him. Easier said than done. He was warm and cuddly, his handsome face slack with sleep. She wanted to run her fingers through his messy mop of hair and touch the fine bones of his face.
But she did neither of those things.
Sasha didn’t want to have an emotional goodbye with Perry. She didn’t want to have to see the hurt in his eyes again, because last night it had gutted her.
He didn’t stir as she slithered out of bed and silently put her clothes back on. Maybe he was a deep sleeper. What else could she learn about him if she allowed herself to stick around?
As she was about to make the walk-of-shame through the adjoining bathroom, she froze. She wanted to give him something, needed to actually. A gift to remember her by.
She quietly unzipped her red bag and pulled out a box. There was a bright green ribbon on the Christmas tree in the corner of the room, so she filched it and tied a bow around the box. If only she weren’t such a Scrooge, she’d be the best Santa in all the land.
As she placed Perry’s gift on the bedside table, he reached out and caressed her wrist. She jumped out of her skin and dropped the box onto the hardwood floor.
“Sweet baby Jesus, you scared me. You’re always making me fumble shit.”
“Maybe you’re just not very observant.” His voice was sleep-roughened and sweet. She smiled at him.
“That’s true.”
“Is that for me?”
“Yes. I like giving you presents.”
He blinked sleepily. “I think you’re better at this Christmas thing than you give yourself credit for. You have a generous spirit.”
His words hit her in the chest and filled her with a strange longing.
“Go back to sleep. You’re not making any sense.”
His gaze flitted to the box on the floor, and she had to stifle a giggle. She was ridiculous.
“Is that a prostate massager?” he asked.
“Yes. It’s a parting gift.”
He laughed. “Well, Happy Holidays to me, I guess.”
“You think you’ll enjoy it?”
“I do.” A blush rose up through his beard. “I’ve never used one, but fingers are a thing, and I happen to know I like that.”
“You’re a diamond in the rough, Perry.” She leaned in and kissed his mouth tenderly. “You’ll be the highlight of my Christmas.”
He caught her chin and kissed her harder, but then he let her go.
He let her go.
