Page 30 of Never Kiss a Krampus
“Noelle—”
“I’m fine.” I reached up with the star, stretching towards the branch he had indicated. “Almost got it.”
My fingertips brushed the branch. The ladder shifted beneath me, and then he was there, his hands settling on my hips, steadying me.
Oh.
His touch burned through my jeans, warm and sure and completely overwhelming. His body was close behind mine, solid and immovable, anchoring me in place.
“Steady,” he said, his voice low and close to my ear.
“I’m steady.”
“You are wobbling.”
“The ladder’s wobbling.”
“Then perhaps you should not be on it.”
His hands tightened fractionally on my hips, adjusting my angle. Pulling me back against him just slightly. I tried to focus on the task. On hanging the star. On anything except the feeling of his hands on my body and his breath against my neck.
“That branch,” he said. “Slightly to the left.”
I shifted, reaching. His hands moved with me, guiding my hips, changing my position.
He’s not steadying me. He’s holding me.
The realization sent heat flooding through me.
“There,” he said. “That angle is correct.”
I hung the star with trembling fingers.
“Good.” His hands remained on my hips. “Now the blue ornament. Top right quadrant.”
“You want me to stay up here?”
“Unless you plan to climb down and up again for each ornament? This is more efficient.”
Efficient. This is just about efficiency.
I grabbed the next ornament from the box I’d placed on the ladder’s top platform. A delicate blue glass ball with white snowflakes painted on it. His hands stayed exactly where they were. I reached up, stretching towards the indicated branch, and his grip tightened, holding me secure as I rose onto my toes.
“Higher,” he said.
I stretched more, my reindeer sweater riding up, exposing a strip of skin above my waistband. His thumb brushed that exposed skin. Just once. So quickly I might have imagined it, except I felt it all the way to my bones.
The ornament slipped from my fingers, and time seemed to slow. I watched the delicate glass ball fall, tumbling through the air towards the hardwood floor and inevitable destruction. Then it stopped, suspended in mid-air, wrapped in a faint shimmer of frost and shadow.
Magic.
The ornament floated back up, settling gently into my palm.
“How did you do that?”
“I can impose my will on certain elements, mainly ice and shadow.”
I turned my head, glancing at him over my shoulder. “That’s… impressive.”
