Page 17 of Mistletoed with the Mountain Man
She squints at the screen. "Did you schedule bathroom breaks again?"
"They're just suggestions, not mandates."
"Uh-huh." She grins. "You're adorable, you know that?"
"I'm a lot of things. Adorable isn't one of them."
"Agree to disagree, Deputy."
After we finish our breakfast, we haul supplies upstairs.
Even the loft is big…and as beautiful as the great room—exposed beams, a reading nook with floor-to-ceiling windows, and the smaller noble fir we bought yesterday waiting in its stand.
"Okay," Nia says, surveying the space. "This tree needs to be elegant. Sophisticated. Like something out of a winter magazine."
"As opposed to the great room tree, which is...?"
"Exuberant. Joyful. Maximum sparkle." She pulls out a box of ornaments, all silver and white, with delicate glass pieces that catch the light. "This one is about restraint."
I'm familiar with the concept. Been practicing it for two straight days.
She starts untangling light strings, humming under her breath. I watch her work, trying to focus on the task at hand and not the way her body fills out her clothes.
"Can you hand me those silver garlands?" she asks, gesturing to a box near my feet.
I pass them over, and she immediately gets to work wrapping them around the tree. Or trying to. The lights she's already strung keep getting caught in the garland, and within thirty seconds she's completely tangled.
"Oh no." She tugs at a section wrapped around her wrist. "No, no, no—Kade, help!"
"What did you do?"
"I'm being held hostage by Christmas!" She's twisted in the lights, one arm pinned up near her head, the other back behind her. "This is your fault for wanting the extra-long strands."
"How is this my fault?" I’m biting back a smile, as I move toward her.
"You're the one who insisted we needed these premium, extra-durable, no-possible-way-of-breaking-free kind of lights." She tries to turn and only makes it worse. "Now I'm trapped in a festive prison."
I circle around her, assessing the damage. She's thoroughly stuck, lights wound around her like a tree, garland draped over her shoulder. "Hold still."
"I’m trying."
I have to get close to work out the tangle—close enough that I can feel the heat of her body and smell her deliciously sweetscent. My fingers work at the lights, trying not to notice how her sweater has ridden up revealing a tempting band of bare skin at her midsection.
"How did you even manage this?" I mutter, finding another knot.
"Hidden talent." Her voice sounds breathless. "I'm really good at getting into trouble."
"I've noticed." I reach around her to grab a section of lights, my chest against her back, my arms bracketing her body. Every breath she takes presses her closer.
"Almost got it," I say, my voice rough.
"Take your time." She leans back slightly, and I know—I fucking know—she's doing it on purpose.
The image hits me without warning: her like this in my bed, wrists bound (maybe even by my handcuffs), completely at my mercy.
"How about I tell you that you're a menace instead?" I tickle her exposed belly lightly.
She shrieks with laughter. "Kade! No fair!"
