Page 59 of Holiday Unscripted
“Fine,” I huff, my cock half-mast as she reaches on the shelf for a pair of scrubs. My hand comes out to roam over her ass. “But after”—I slap it softly—“it’s all mine.”
She gets changed into the scrubs and has to roll the top of the pants twice and then use an elastic band to bunch them at the side.
We walk out of the office and Chloe sees the both of us in scrubs and just turns her head the other way. Shit, I think to myself, Elizabeth might be right about this one. I have never once given her any notion that it would be more between us. I make a mental note to stay strictly even more professional with her.
“Is Bruno ready?” I ask her and she nods her head.
Two hours later, we are both dressed again and walking out of the vet clinic. Bruno was just waking up and the nighttime tech is going to be on duty all night long, making sure he’s okay. The minute I open the door, I see that not only is it still snowing, but there has been an accumulation of the snow. “Shit,” I swear. “This might be a storm.” The wind picks up as the snow blows into my face. “Get in the truck,” I tell her, opening my door and starting it before taking the snow brush out of my back seat. My fingers feel like they are frozen by the time I get back into the truck.
“My father just called, said they are expecting six inches of snow over the next twenty-four hours.”
“Oh fuck.” I look at her.
“Macy’s having a minor meltdown, and my uncle Matthew is on the phone trying to make sure we get a couple of chartered planes on standby.”
“Shit, we should hit up the grocery story now that we’re out. It might be a day before the roads are clear.”
I pull out and it takes me thirty-five minutes to drive the fifteen minutes to the grocery store. The two of us fill the basket with all sorts of things. We get home and the steps are covered in snow. “Go open the door,” I tell her as we get out and I reach into the back to grab the bags.
“I don’t know the code,” she tosses over her shoulder.
I close my eyes, knowing I’m going to have to give it to her. “It’s one, two, two, three, eighteen.” The minute I say the numbers, she looks over at me.
“What?” I pretend I don’t know what is going on.
“That,” she says, standing on the second step, “that’s the night we?—”
I nod my head, not sure I want to have this conversation in the middle of the steps.
“We should get in there,” I tell her, avoiding looking at her as I pass her on the steps. “Whiskey has been in all day.”
CHAPTER 23
Elizabeth
LET IT SNOW! LET IT SNOW! LET IT SNOW!
I listen to him give me the code and then look over at him, not sure I’ve heard him right. “Did you say, one, two, two, three, eighteen?”
“What?” He pretends like he doesn’t know what is going on.
“That,” I say, my head spinning, “that’s the night we?—”
He stands there on the second step nodding his head, the snow falling all around him, his feet buried in the snow as he holds the bags in his hands. “Whiskey,” he repeats what he said before, “it’s been a long day.”
“Nate,” I say his name and he just walks up the steps and moves me away from the door. I watch him touch the keypad that turns blue, and then he punches in the numbers he told me and the sound of the lock turning open fills the silent front stoop. He struggles with the bags in his hands to open the door, and when he does, Whiskey is right there jumping on him.
“Back,” he orders him and he moves backward, giving him a chance to dump the bags. “Can you put him out?” he asks me. “I’m going to shovel the steps.”
“Yeah,” I reply softly as he walks past me and heads to the garage door. I watch him as I try to calm down the way my heart is hammering in my chest. I watch him until I feel my hand being moved and Whiskey shoving his nose to smell me. The sound of his tail hitting the door makes me look down at him.
“Do you want to go out?” I ask him and then he barks as he backs up again into the house. “Okay, let me get out of these boots,” I tell him, stomping my feet as I step inside and take off my jacket and my boots. “There you go,” I say, opening the back door and watching him sprint out. I turn and go to refill his bowl of water and then his food, before walking back to the front and picking up the bags of groceries Nate dumped before going out to shovel. I take them back into the kitchen and start unloading them, stopping to let Whiskey in, who goes directly for his food bowl.
I walk to the Christmas tree, plugging in the lights and seeing the tree light up the room as I make it back to the kitchen, leaving the ingredients out for the dinner we said we would make. The front door opens and then slams shut. Whiskey takes off like his life depends on it. The sound of his tail hitting the wall every time it wags makes me smile as I hear Nate chuckle. “Okay, okay,” he says. “Did you play in the snow?” he asks him, and then I hear his footsteps coming down the hall. “It’s coming down even harder out there.”
“I think we should hurry and make dinner before we lose power,” I suggest and he nods his head, walking to the sink and turning on the water to wash his hands.
“Just got off the phone with Joshua, the power is out at your parents’ and also at the hotel. They have the generator going, but the panic is starting to set in that the food might be ruined for the wedding if the caterer doesn’t have a generator.”
