Page 36 of All I Want For Christmas Is You

I’m never a mess.

Always in control. Level-headed.

This woman. She didn’t even know what she did to him. Lowering his chin, he let out a laugh. “I feel pretty stupid.”

“Stupid? Why?”

“I didn’t want to bother you so late at night, but I also didn’t want someone to see the bags in the hallway and think they were garbage.”

She glanced down. “There’s a tree.”

“Yep.”

“Is it for me?”

“Yeah. It’s nothing much.” He shrugged. “Just, you know, Merry Christmas.”

She grinned as if she found him adorable. “Well, come in. Let’s see what you got me.” But just as she turned to go in, she stopped. “Do you need to go? You probably have to get up early to catch your flight.”

“Not too early. I’m good.” He picked up the tree. There was something about the sharp pine scent that woke him up, unscrambled his brains. “I’ll just stay a minute.” Following her, he took in the unmade bed, the dresser with the top drawer open, and the suitcase on a luggage stand. Seeing how she lived reminded him she’d lost everything, including the roof over her head.

Anger coursed through him, and he wanted to march over to her ex-husband’s place and knock him senseless.

“It’s a mess, I know. I was catching up on some work and figured I could clean up in the morning.”

“Is that it?” He tipped his chin toward the suitcase.

“Is what it? Oh.” She laughed. “Is that all I own in the world? No, of course not. There’s a toaster in the closet.”

He tried to give her the smile she wanted, but he couldn’t do it.

“Oh, come on. You’d be surprised what happens when you get rid of your stuff. I couldn’t even tell you what’s in that storage room right now. I don’t miss any of it.”

“It’s the point, though. How he could leave you like this and move on to something better.”

“Is it better, though? I suppose as long as Petra doesn’t get pregnant it probably is. Though honestly, I would die laughing if it happened. It won’t, of course. In fact, he probably got a vasectomy before he ever slept with her.” She gestured around the room. “This doesn’t bother me because it isn’t permanent. I may never own a home again or take fancy vacations, but I know I can pay my bills through my own creativity and resourcefulness.” She touched his arm. “I’m doing okay. I promise.” And then, she jumped onto her bed. “Now, let’s see what you got me.”

He’d nailed two planks of wood to the bottom, so when he set the tree on the nightstand it managed to stay upright.

She touched the pine needles. “This is so fun. I get my very own Christmas tree.” The bags rustled as she pulled out a strand of cranberry-colored beads. “This is pretty.” She sat up on her heels and carefully wound it around the branches. Her robe gaped open, revealing the swell of her breasts.

He had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from imagining sliding his hand inside and caressing her until her nipple beaded against his palm.

She dug back into the bag and pulled out some ornaments. “Wait.” She studied the carvings. “Did you make this?”

He nodded.

“How? When? I don’t understand…?”

“The storm…I had to take Jessa home early.” He’d already told her that. “So, I had a little time.”

“A little time? I make ornaments for a living. This would take me days.” When she ran a finger over the grooves, he swore he could feel it on his cock.

Lust burned a path through him, and he had to shove his hand in his pocket to press down hard on his erection.

“Where did you get the supplies? The tools?”

“In town. There’s a craft store down the street from the bistro.” They’d even had a saw so he could take down the small tree.

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