Page 17 of Checked Out by the Grinch
I turn back, our eyes meeting softly. “I get it. We don’t have to have all the answers tonight. Maybe right now, we just start with the easy stuff,” I glance toward the undecorated tree in the living room, “like the tree.”
“Like the tree.” She nods, staring at me as though she’s wound caution tape around her heart. “The tree and some cocoa.”
“I’d like that,” I say, voice steady as I try to convince myself to go slow, to move at her pace, to give her the space she needs to let this develop.
I’ve faced harder things than waiting, but none I’ve wanted as badly as this.
Chapter Nine
Holly
The lights are strung onto the tree, casting a soft glow across the room. Kade’s snuggled up into his bed for the night, and I’m sat on the couch, a foot away from the massive man who makes my heart flip and flop in my chest like a pancake in a hot pan.
I should feel nervous, but I don’t.
I should be scared, afraid that he’ll get sick of me and leave, but I’m not.
I’m not because when he’s beside me it feels like he’s pulling me in, like he’s got everything under control.
His arm brushes mine and my skin hums. He’s not saying much. He just sits there quiet, calm, and steady as some cheesy Christmas movie plays in the background. Honestly, I have no idea what’s happening. I haven’t been able to focus on anything since we sat down.
How can I when his body settles into the couch like it belongs there? Big, broad shoulders, corded forearms, rough, thick fingers resting beside him.
There’s something about a man who doesn’t need to prove himself. A man who’s already decided I’m worth the wait.
I shouldn’t touch him. I can’t touch him. I won’t touch him. We’re not touching.
We can’t. I made this huge deal about waiting, about going slowly, about being smart, steady, and not rushing.
Therefore, we won’t rush. We can’t rush. I have Kade to think of. Then, his thigh shifts against mine and I feel the scrub of denim against my leg.I don’t move a muscle.I can’t, because if a single muscle in my body moves right now, it’s going to propel me onto his lap.
His fingers flex beside me, and I swear I can feel the heat radiating off his skin. I know he wants me. I felt how hard his cock was last night, though right now, he doesn’t reach out, doesn’t push. He only waits, and somehow, that makes me want him more.
Oh God, I’m losing it!
Swallowing hard, I try to push away the racing thoughts but the couch dips beneath his weight and the ceiling fan pushes the scent of cedar toward me, melting the last bit of resolve I have.
I glance toward him, but he doesn’t look back. He stares at the screen, jaw tight, eyes low, and I wonder if maybe he’s fighting the same war I am.
I should say something. Offer him more bread, talk about the movie, mention the weather we’ve been having lately. Anything to break the tension.
Instead, I let my hand move slowly toward his, casual, unnoticeably slow, until the edges of our fingers meet in the center of the cushion.
He doesn’t pull away. He shifts deliberately until the side of his hand presses fully against mine. It’s warm and solid.
I stare at the flickering TV screen in the dim lit room, pretending to care about whatever’s happening in this movie, but all I can feel is the weight of his touch. The way it anchors me. The way it soothes me. The way it makes me want to climb all over him.
My eyes move to the tiny tree we decorated before Kade went to bed, then up at the picture he colored while I was making dinner. I need to refocus my mind. I need to remember why I need to go slow. Then, slowly, Grayson’s thumb moves.
It’s just a stroke, and it’s only once. One solid stroke across the top of my hand.
I should be able to handle it. It’s not a big deal, yet something inside of me snaps.
I bite my lip, take a breath, and let go.
Chapter Ten
Grayson
