A Christmas Delight

18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen

Joel

I ’m slumped on my couch, my eyes turned to the TV but unseeing what’s on the screen. I can’t get Maisie out of my head. Anger at her and at myself are fighting for dominance in my chest.

I get off the couch and head to the kitchen to find something to drink, then pause. The black and red cup sweater Maisie has made for me is on the counter, still fitted around my cup. That’s when I lose this stupid battle with myself. I was a dick. The reason I spoke to her that way wasn’t because of her, it was because I was jealous. She went on a date with someone who asked her out before I did. I have no one else to blame but myself. If I had been more straightforward, more honest, and less scared, this wouldn’t have happened. I thought she might want to go out with me, but I completely misread her signs and that’s on me.

Movement outside catches my eye. I peer through the window. Maisie is standing outside, looking at her house. She doesn’t move for a while, then drops her coat in the snow and sits on it, her face buried in her hands.

She hates me. I know she does. I hate myself too, having said those things to her. There’s no way in hell she’ll want to see me right now.

Yet my legs carry me to the front door. I grab my jacket but don’t put it on as I head outside. She doesn’t raise her head as I approach, despite my boots crunching in the snow. When I’m a few feet from her, I understand why she doesn’t hear me, and my heart breaks. She’s crying, shivering in the cold.

“Maisie?” I say, trying to keep my voice low so as to not scare her.

Maisie snaps her head in my direction, startled by my presence anyway. “Oh,” she says, wiping away her tears. She points at a discarded box on the ground, avoiding eye-contact. “Want some chocolate cake?”

I peer at her, the sight of her tears forcing an emotion out of me I didn’t know I had. A primal, visceral need to protect her. “Do I need to punch him in the face? Because I’ve been waiting to do that for a long time.”

She chuckles through her sobs.

“Whatever he did to you, I’m gonna kick his sorry ass—”

“It’s not him, Joel. It’s…” She shrugs, shaking her head. “You were right. I don’t know how to stand up to my own mother. I wish I was brave and strong, but I’m not. I’m weak, and a people pleaser, and a doormat, and I just have to accept that this is the person I am.” She sniffles, wiping fresh tears away. “I’m so sorry about that date. And sorry for not telling you about it. I shouldn’t have gone. I didn’t even want to go. And you were right, by the way, he’s a prick. Basically called me fat.”

Tomorrow, nine o’clock in the morning, I’ll be beating Finn’s ass. I swallow my anger for now and walk to Maisie. I crouch in front of her, draping my jacket around her shoulders.

“I’m sorry you had a bad evening. And I’m sorry for my behavior earlier. I was jealous, and I know that doesn’t excuse anything.”

She shakes her head, attempting a sad smile. “You were right, though.”

“No. All those things you just said about yourself, that’s not what I see.”

“What do you see?”

Taking her cold hands in mine, I meet her misty eyes. “I see someone who’s empathetic toward others. Someone who knows how to listen without judging. You don’t hesitate to go after what you want. You have your own business, for Christ’s sakes, that says a lot about you. You’re ambitious. And kind.”

Maisie holds my gaze. A strand of wavy hair frames her face, nearly hiding her right eye. I reach up and brush it away, tucking it behind her ear. We’re so close I can see every little detail of her face, the tear stuck in her lashes, the green eyes that glisten in the dark, the lips that I long to kiss.

I drop my hand slowly. “Do you need a place to hide?”

A small, but genuine smile tucks at the corners of her mouth. “Yes. I do.”

The warmth of the house feels like a comforting blanket as I step inside Joel’s house, his hand flat on the small of my back. The back of my dress is half soaked. My tights were spared when I sat on my coat, but not my upper back. Joel’s jacket has helped keeping me warmish, though. I give it back to him.

“I’ll get you a shirt,” he says.

“That’s okay—”

“I am getting you a dry shirt.” He holds my gaze for a second, letting me know that arguing is pointless, before he walks down the hallway and disappears into one of the rooms.

The images on the TV cast dancing lights across the walls—an ice hockey game is on—in a living room that is about the same size as mine. It looks slightly different than mine, but like in my house, the fireplace is at the very back of the room, with a rug in front of it as though beckoning me closer and inviting me to sit. Flames lick the woods, and I kneel in front of it, craving its warmth.

Joel comes back a few seconds later, handing me a large, gray sweatshirt that looks long enough to reach my thighs.

“Thank you,” I say as I take it.

“I’ll get some plates while you change.”

I frown, confused. “Plates?”

“I was promised chocolate cake. I intend to eat the damn chocolate cake.”

I let out a laugh. I had completely forgotten about my doggy bag, which Joel picked up from the snow outside and put on the kitchen counter. If he hadn’t done that, it’d still be outside, slowly freezing.

Joel goes to the kitchen. I hear cupboard doors opening and closing, plates and spoons clattering. I debate going to another room to change, then decide it’ll be quicker to do it here. I slide off my wet dress and quickly put on the sweatshirt. I look over my shoulder just as the hem slides over my mid-section and butt and see Joel standing in the doorway. He looks down, pretending he didn’t see anything, though I’m fairly sure he caught a glimpse of my legs and waist, if not my bra. My cheeks burn.

“Sorry,” he says.

“That’s okay. I should have gone into another room.”

He sits next to me, placing a plate in front of me on the rug. “Let’s see what you got.” He opens the takeout box, revealing the chocolate cake smothered in salted caramel sauce with whipped cream on top and vanilla ice cream on the side, then looks at me, a glint in his eyes. “Hell, yeah.”

I watch him split the cake in two halves and put them on our plates. Then, he hands me the bigger piece.

“Aren’t you gonna tell me I’ll be fat if I eat this?” I ask.

“That’s alright, we can be fat together.”

Laughter falls out of my mouth. Joel gives me a lopsided grin, then takes a huge bite of chocolate cake with whipped cream.

“Why don’t you like him?” I ask. “Finn, I mean.” I take my first bite of cake. It’s not as gooey as it would have been to begin with, but it’s still damn good. I put the plate in front of me. My appetite isn’t back yet. “Besides the fact that he almost ran you over.”

“And besides the fact he’s been rude to you?”

“You didn’t like him before that. And I get a feeling you disliked him before the car thing.”

“He disrespected my dad in his own shop.”

I gasp. “Not your dad! We must protect him at all costs.”

“Yeah. He threw a fit like a toddler because his tree fell off the roof of his car as soon as he started driving away. My dad didn’t tie up the tree. Finn did. Badly. Because he didn’t trust anyone else to do it.”

“Now I want to punch him too.”

In two more bites, Joel cleans his plate and discards it. He rests his elbow on his bent knee, studying me. “How come you don’t stand up for yourself the way you stand up for other people? You’d punch Finn for disrespecting my dad but not for disrespecting you?”

Because I’m not worthy.

The thought shoots through my head, unwelcome. I push it away. “I did stand up for myself tonight. Well, kind of. I paid for the meal to prove a point, but now that I think about it, I wasted a hundred bucks on a crappy date, so… Yay me.”

I let my gaze get lost in the flames for a moment, and when I look back at Joel, I realize he’s been watching me this whole time, the light dancing in his eyes. He reaches out, his fingers delicately tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His thumb brushes my jaw, lingering under my chin, as he leans forward a little.

“If you can’t stand up for yourself, I’ll do it for you,” he says, his low voice sending a warm rush through my body.

He closes the few inches that separate us, and his lips claim mine. His kiss starts out soft, but I want—no, I need —more. My hands find his jaw, my fingers brushing over his beard before I clamp them behind his neck and run them through his hair. Joel’s strong arms pull me closer, one arm hooked behind my back and the other hand sliding under my butt. Two seconds later, I’m straddling him, my legs circling his waist.

Joel lets out a groan, the both of us breathing into each other’s space. He grabs the hem of the sweatshirt and pulls it off my body. I do the same with his shirt and run my hands over his chisled chest and shoulders, his skin hotter than the fire next to us.

Joel kisses me again. Goosebumps run over my arms as his lips trail down my neck, collarbone, the swell of my breasts. I gasp, holding him closer, my fingers tangled in his hair. The scratching of his beard and the softness of his lips and tongue on my body paired with the crackling fire and the smell of chocolate on his breath overwhelm me. This giant of a man, who intimidated me the first time I met him, now lays me down on the rug with a gentleness I didn’t know someone could possess, and I let myself get lost in the heat of his burning kisses.

Maisie’s green eyes are fixed on me, her expression soft. Her hair rests on the pillow and the heat from her skin radiates against mine. The blanket covers the lower part of her body, giving space for my hand to rest in the crook of her waist.

Somehow, we managed to move from the rug in the living room to my bedroom without ever letting go of each other, discarding our clothes as we went. I haven’t felt this good in years. Maybe ever.

“I was thinking about maybe putting up a tree in my living room,” I say.

She cocks an eyebrow. “Really? It’s surprising, coming from you.”

“You gave me the Christmas bug. I blame the singing snowman in your front yard.”

Maisie laughs, then her delicate fingers brush my jaw before resting against my chest. “Well, hurry up. Only twenty days left until Christmas.”

“Will you come to the mountain with me to find the perfect tree?”

She smiles again, knowing full well I don’t need help but just want her with me, and kisses me softly. “Of course.”

“We should invite your friends too if you want. You wanted to show them the view.”

“That doesn’t bother you?”

“Of course not.”

“Thank you. I’m sure they’d love to come.”

A phone beeps somewhere in the house.

“Oh, that’s mine,” Maisie says. “It can wait.”

I hold her close, letting my lips trail over her neck and shoulder. She moans, wrapping one leg around my waist.

The phone beeps again.

I look at her. “Do you want to get it?”

“No, it’s fine.” Maisie wraps a hand behind my neck and kisses me, then her phone beeps again, breaking the spell. “Damn it.” She sighs. “I’ll be right back.”

She gets out of bed, leaving me feeling empty. I watch her go, looking at her curves, and already missing her body. I decide to get up too and join her in the living room, pulling on my jeans once I find them lying in the middle of the hallway.

Maisie has pulled my gray sweatshirt back on and is now looking at her phone. “My mom wants to know when I’m coming back. She says the date must be going well if I’m taking that long to come home. And that she was right.” She chuckles, giving me a mischievous smile. “She has no idea.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

She thinks about it for a second, then shrugs. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t seem to like me much.”

“To be fair, she doesn’t like a lot of people. She doesn’t even like me most of the time.”

I stand close to her and hook my arms around her waist. “Stay with me tonight.”

She wraps her arms around my neck, looking up at me. “That’s very tempting, but I think I should go. So she’s not alone, you know?”

I don’t, but I don’t want to be pushy, so I nod. “Alright. Next time, maybe.”

“Yeah.”

We kiss again. Her breath smells of chocolate and her hair of green apple, and I want to lose myself in those scents. I lift her, getting a little cry followed by laughter out of her. She hooks her legs around my waist as I push her against the wall.

She may have to go home, but I’m sure we have some more time.