Page 50 of Knot what I want for Christmas
“I apologize, Hollie,” I say. “That wasn’t how we treat ladies around here.”
“It wasn’t?” she says, frowning in confusion. Or is that disappointment?
“Hollie, I’m sorry for my behavior.”
“Oh no, don’t say that. Please don’t apologize,” she says. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” She smiles at me. “In fact, you did a whole lot right. That’s the problem.”
I can’t help smiling back at her. Fuck, I want to kiss her again. But if I kiss you again right now, I’m not sure I could control myself.
“I better go,” she says, smiling again, and then, to my surprise, reaching out to squeeze my fingers. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Christmas Eve.”
“Christmas Eve,” I say, hating myself all the more.
Chapter Seventeen
Clay
Nash arrives back at the cabin an hour after us, just as I’m about to serve up dinner. I’m not the world’s greatest cook, but it’s something that helps me take my mind off things. And right now, I’m trying really hard to take my mind off Hollie Bright and that kiss – especially after my conversation with Tucker.
My packmate thinks this is a good sign. He thinks we could have something with the girl. But I’m just not so sure. I don’t think we’re that lucky – I’m not sure I’m that lucky. And besides, a girl like Hollie Bright, she could have her pick of packs, she could have anyone she wanted. Why the hell would she choose us? Why the hell would a city girl like her want to become a pack omega out here in the mountains?
She wouldn’t.
“Hey,” Nash says as he walks into the cabin, tossing off his hat and toeing off his boots. He strides straight to the sink, rolling up his shirt sleeves and scrubbing his hands and his forearms.
He smells.
He smells a lot like honey.
I’m guessing Tucker smells it too, because he’s also staring at our pack mate silently. Nash only realizes when he turns back around from the sink, blinking behind his glasses.
“Got something to tell us?” Tucker asks, hands on hips. “You kissed her, didn’t you?”
He nods. “She told me that Clay kissed her,” he says, motioning his head in my direction. “And then I couldn’t help myself. I asked if I could kiss her too.”
“And she let you?” Tucker says, a great big fuck-off grin spreading across his face – one that readstold you soas clearly as day.
Yeah, and maybe he’s right. For once, Tucker could be right. There’s a chance. A chance here.
“Yes, she let me. In fact…” He scratches his ear. “We did a little more than kissing.”
“Fuck,” Tucker says, his grin now so big I’m surprised it doesn’t split his cheeks. “Care to share? A bit of…”
“Don’t get so excited, Tucker,” Nash says. “There was just a bit of grinding, a bit of squeezing.”
“That sounds like heaven,” Tucker says. “Because the girl has a body designed for sin.”
“Trust me,” Nash responds. “She does.”
“And then what happened?”
Nash shakes his head, pulls out a chair from the dining table, and sits himself down. “Then Annie interrupted us.”
“Goddamn Annie,” I mutter under my breath.
“And I got a goddamn hold of myself,” Nash says.
“Huh?”
