Page 84 of Booked for the Holidays
I pop it open. The watch glints in the stray strip of streetlight—sleek, old-school, the brushed steel case worn smooth in places. The face is classic, but the back is what does me in—the tiny engraving near the lugs:Tempus fugit.A detail only another watch nerd would care about.
She’d already told me about the watch at the hospital. Admitting she’d saw it at a vintage store and thought of me. But seeing it and the engraving, and knowing it’s for me from her, hits harder than I expected.
“I love it.”
“Yeah?” Her voice is soft. “I love that you love it.”
And damn, there's an awful lot of love circling this thing for two people who haven’t said it yet.
I run my thumb over the inscription.Tempus fugit.Time flies. God, that hits somewhere deep.
“So let me get this straight.” I tilt her chin up with my knuckle, smirking. “You carried this around all year, staring at it, and thinking about me?”
“Shut up.” She shoves my shoulder but she’s laughing, cheeks warm and flushed. “I wasn’t pining,” she lies. Badly.
“No?” I press another kiss to the corner of her mouth, slow and sweet. “So this was just, what? Casual, thoughtful hoarding?”
She swats my chest, but I catch her wrist, holding it there so she feels my heartbeat under her palm.
“You’re such a pain in the ass,” she says, breathless.
“Yeah?” I kiss her again, deeper now. “Well, you’re the one giving sentimental vintage watches to a guy you claim you didn’t miss. Makes you look a little attached, Firefly.”
She tries to glare but she’s smiling, soft and exasperated. “So what now?”
I flip the box shut and set it on her nightstand, then roll her beneath me in the tangle of blankets.
“Now,” I say, my mouth a breath from hers, “you keep giving me your time.” I nip her bottom lip just enough to make her gasp. “And tomorrow, you’ll see I’m giving you mine, too.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
JUNIPER
I wakeup warm and sore and embarrassingly content for someone who keeps insisting she’s not falling in love with Liam Hargrove. But I am. Last night sealed it—like the final, soft nail in the coffin of my stubbornness.
His arm is heavy around my waist, his breath warm at the back of my neck. I shift a little, just enough to test the edge of reality, but his grip tightens like he can sense it—like if I try to slip away, he’ll just pull me back under. His nose nudges behind my ear, his lips brushing my hair.
“Merry Christmas, Firefly,” he murmurs, voice rough with sleep and a smug sort of tenderness that makes my chest ache.
“Merry Christmas,” I sigh back, letting myself sink into him for one reckless moment.
His body is heavy and warm, like a weighted blanket that keeps my second thoughts at bay. Still, they’re there—little flickers of uncertainty that bloom in the spaces between our heartbeats.
Last night was everything. Sex, yes—my first time, his hands and mouth on me, his voice whispering things I’ll probably replay in my head forever. But it was more than that. The watch I’d hidden from him for months, the one I claimed Jasper hadbought, when really it was mine, chosen just for Liam before I even knew how badly I’d want him to keep it. Giving it to him was like showing my whole heart, piece by piece.
He shifts behind me, his palm smoothing over my stomach, and I feel him smile into my hair.
“You’re thinking too loud,” he rumbles, amused and half-asleep.
I huff out a soft laugh. “Sorry.”
“You say it like you mean to stop.”
“It’s part of my charm. Comes with the package.”
He laughs, low and smug, causing his chest to rumble against my back. “Good. I’m keeping you anyway.”
He says it like a promise. And the worst part is, I believe him.
