Page 24 of Say It Isn't Snow
“But—”
“Nope. I’m taking care of it.”
Of you.
She slides her lips together and her brows wrinkle as if she doesn’t know why I would. Like no one ever offers. I want to cradle her face, soothe her plush lower lip with my thumb, and reassure her she deserves the world. And I will give it to her.
“Alright. I appreciate it,” she murmurs.
“Once you’re done with the cocoa, you go relax,” I encourage. “This is supposed to be your vacation.”
She rolls her lips between her teeth, then breaks into a beaming smile. “Okay, deal.”
The pleasant sensation in my chest expands. I dry my hands on the dish towel and lean against the sink to appreciate her happiness as she dances to the holiday music playing in the background.
It’s clear to me now Holly is always used to being the one who takes care of everyone else around her without anyone to do the same for her.
Time to change that, because she has me to take care of her. And when I dedicate myself to something, I put my all into it.
CHAPTER 9
HOLLY
Choppingfirewood is way harder than it looks. It seems like a straightforward process. Place wood. Take aim. Chop.
I figured this would be therapeutic and easy. Instead, it’s pissing me off more than it’s providing any outlet for stress relief.
Actually, the true reason I’m so worked up is because of Caleb.
For three days in a row, he’s gotten up earlier than me—a surprise all on its own considering the first morning here he practically sleepwalked straight into my tits—and made breakfast for me every morning.
And lunch.
And dinner.
Hell, he’s even preparing snacks in between meals. He made me a goddamn cheese board. How am I supposed to resist cheese?
A man who keeps a woman fed is a unicorn these days.
Is it the bare minimum? Of course, but this is a man I’m talking about. They’re so different from dating women. Although, my relationship with the girl I dated after college fell apart, too. The few dates I’ve been on since haven’t gonefurther than the first few outings, and none progressed to the relationship stage because no one measured up to someone who deserves me.
The important barometer here isif he wanted to, he would.
And Caleb is pulling out all the stops without leaving any room to wonder his motive.
The coffee is brewed exactly how I like it each morning by the time I’m awake, and after we eat he doesn’t allow me to lift a finger to help him do the dishes. When I insisted I should do my share of chores since he keeps cooking, he said he remembered that washing dishes is one of my most disliked tasks ever and he didn’t mind doing them for me if it makes my life easier, leaving me speechless.
I’m not blind. He’s not hiding those alluring looks or how his gaze turns sultry and hooded at the lingering touches whenever our hands brush.
I’m not immune to his charming efforts, either.
When he nearly kissed me a few nights ago, I almost let him.
The resolution I made to withstand his charisma, no matter how tempting? Completely forgotten once I was trapped by those irresistible green eyes, shivering from him being near enough his breath ghosted across my mouth.
I was so swept up in how fun it was to bake with him. He’s always been a good kisser and it’s been too long since I was last kissed until I was melting. The last person to kiss me like that was him.
I was moments from slipping my arms around his broad, sturdy shoulders and tilting my chin up, anticipating his mouth claiming mine.
