Page 2 of Christmas in Vines

“Yes, him.” Willow grabbed my sleeve. “Not everyone is swayed by your money, Maxwell, or your rich country-club partying parents. You seem to think it's all right to dip your dick in any girl who breathes near you and think I’d go on with it because you can buy me another Mercedes or some shit. You don’t know the first thing about what it takes to care for someone else than who you see in the mirror.”

Well… damn.

My arm tightened around her. “I’m going to tell you one last time, fuck off, asshole.”

He turned to Willow. “You’ll regret this. I’m giving you up to Christmas to realize the mistake you made, and I’ll graciously take you back when you come crawling back to me.”

“She won’t,” I said.

“She will,” he snorted, then turned away and strode off to a few guys who had just walked into the parking lot.

Pivoting a little, I dropped my voice. “Are you okay?”

She looked up, and I realized her eyes were rich, glassy blue, like sapphire gems on white velvet. “Thank you for that. He won’t leave me alone.”

“Do you want me to take you somewhere, home, the police station, a relative’s house?” I asked quietly. “I don’t trust that guy.”

Willow pulled away and shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ll be all right. Max… Max is all bark but no bite. He’s too… cushy to get his manicured hands dirty. I wish he would leave me alone.”

The hairs on the back of my head lifted, and I could feel that doucheface was staring at me. I reached for her again. “I’m sorry about this, but play along, okay?”

Before she could nod, I bent my head and kissed her, lightly at first, until her mouth opened and her tongue sought mine—but the second we touched, my axis spun sideways. I moved a little more, and she wrapped her arms around my neck; this time, it was her lips seeking mine. Our tongues tangled, and the kisses got hotter and more sensual, all lips and tongue and teeth. It was aggressive, erotic, and sensual.

This wasn’t rational. My brain didn’t stand a chance because my mouth was all in. Whatever the hell was happening here didn’t make sense. I tasted lemon drop shots on her tongue and felt her callused palm gripping the back of my neck. I was transfixed, like I was under a spell, and would do anything the magician commanded.

The steel pipe in my jeans began throbbing in time with my pounding heart, and I was pretty sure I heard her whimper a little bit. When she moaned into my mouth, I drank it in like a parched man.

Gradually, I pulled away and wiped her wet bottom lip. I gave her an apologetic look. “He was staring at us. I had to do something to make our relationship look legit.”

She was dazed; I could see it in her eyes. Blinking, Willow shook her head. “And there goes my promise not to kiss strangers.”

“Oh ho,” I grinned, “What happened? You go around rooms just giving kisses like party favors.”

She punched me in the arm. “Shut it.”

“Do you have a car or a ride somewhere?” I asked, pivoting a little to keep an eye on the guys at the corner. Maxwell was staring dead at us, but I ignored him. “I could drop you off somewhere if you wanted.”

“I’m good.” She took out a set of car keys and nodded to a Jeep a few feet away from me. “I’m going home.”

It was close, but I still rested my hand on the small of her back and walked her to her door. “Get home safe. Where’s your cell?”

She gave me a quizzical look but handed it over, and after she unlocked it, I typed in my number. “Call me when you get home, so I’ll be sure that asshat isn’t bothering you.”

Her expression cleared, and a flirting smile tugged at her lips. “Were you transported here from the fourteenth century?”

“Despite the contrary, chivalry isn’t as dead as you think it is,” I replied, my gaze flowing over her soft, heart-shaped face, her button nose, and kiss-plumped lips. Standing aside, I watched as she got inside and started the car.

I made to leave when she stopped me and leaned out the window. “You forgot to tell me your name?”

Cole nearly slipped from my lips, but I said, “Tyler, Tyler Burrows.”

She kissed my cheek, “Thanks, Tyler, I’ll never forget it.”

Standing back as she drove off, I gave Maxwell another hard look and went to my SUV parked on the corner, jumped in, and drove to the Clarkston’s bunkhouses, a few streets away from the business itself. I took care when driving, but the taste of Willow’s lips lingered on my tongue and the soft scent of her perfume never left my nose.

God, she was so artlessly gorgeous, with a fresh face, not a stitch of makeup on, but still so stunning. I’d been with women who wore more makeup than the zombie dancers in the Micheal Jackson video, looking like every version of Hollywood elite actresses. However, Willow…man, she was something different.

How exactly? I didn’t know, but I knew I would never get the chance to find out. There was like a zero-point-zero-five percent likelihood I would ever see her again—much less kiss her—and even if I did run into her again, it wouldn’t mean much.

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