Accidentally Under Your Tree (Grand Ridge Christmas #1)

29. Lizzy

twenty-nine

Lizzy

Christmas Day

"It's freezing out there," Will hissed, slipping back under the covers of my bed.

His toes touched my calf, and I yipped. "Jesus! Did you go to the bathroom or the arctic?"

"Oo"—he wrapped powerful arms around my waist, pulling me back to his chest—"you're so warm."

Giggling, I squirmed. "I was. You're taking my heat."

He shifted his hips, nestling closer to my ass, his erection against the round curve of my cheek. Suddenly inspired, I shifted closer instead of further away. Gliding a hand down my thigh, he groaned. "The wiggling is nice."

"You're nice."

"Not as nice as you."

I burst out laughing. He shushed me, pressing his rough fingertips to my lips.

My shoulders shook, but I managed to stay quiet. I whispered, "You're so much nicer than me. Remember when you met me?"

His fingers traced the seam of my lips. Heat pooled in my core. A call and response.

He ran his hand down the column of my throat. He had to feel my blood rushing hot just under the tender skin. "I remember everything about meeting you."

"Then you should recall that I'm not very nice." My words were barely more than puffs of air.

"Clearly, we have two different versions of that night." Palming my ass, he squeezed. "Goddamn."

In the back of my throat, I moaned.

"Stay quiet. I want to stay here, and I definitely don't want to wake up your family. This is the best Christmas morning I've ever had."

"The absolute best?"

"Couldn't get better."

I ground my hips into his, thrilled at his sharp intake of breath. "Couldn't?"

"I don't think you can stay quiet enough."

"I can."

"What about the basement?"

"That was one time."

My body arched at the progress of his touch.

"Lizzy," he breathed my name in my ear, then pressed a kiss to my neck. "We have time. We'll have other mornings like this"—he pulled me tighter against him, his arms solid bans around my ribs—"just let me hold you."

I sighed. The heat and tension in my body were still there, but his words helped calm me. With the intimacy I found just being with him, I snuggled even closer.

"This is more than enough," he whispered

"Will had the idea of giving you my favorite things." I handed Rose the heavy overstuffed basket. Initially, I'd felt trepidation about the suggestion. That was gone now. I wanted her to know me. They were just things , but we'd shared so many before. The line between hers and mine were blurred when we were young. This gift was a little like that.

"So cute!" Mom beamed. She cuddled into my dad's side on the loveseat, his arm pulling her closer. Logs burned in the fireplace. It crackled and smelled like past Christmases trapped in the amber of my memory.

Mom, Rose, and I had fuzzy socks pulled up our calves. We'd discarded the blankets that had been on our laps. They lay in knitted puddles on the carpet. Dad kept eyeing the windows behind me and Will. He would open one any minute now.

But the fire would continue burning.

Just another Christmas tradition.

I sat crisscross applesauce next to Will, with the tree on my other side. He had one leg stretched out in front of him. His elbow propped on the knee of the other. Every once in a while, I'd glance in his direction to find him looking back with the most heartwarming affection.

I couldn't stop grinning.

We were one of those weird families that took turns opening presents.

All eyes were on Rose as she unfolded the chunky knit blanket off the top of the basket. I'd had to wash mine before giving it to her. There wasn’t time to order a new one. It made me happy to give her mine. Being overly sentimental seemed to be the theme of the day.

She held it to her face. "My God, this is so soft."

"Isn't it lovely?"

"Hey," she exclaimed, setting the blanket aside and pulling two jars out, "I have these candles!"

"Do you really?!"

"Yes! They're my favorite too!"

We shared matching smiles, and Will rubbed a thumb up and down the back of my neck. My heart rate jumped, not just at his touch, but because it wasn't in secret. Once Will and I had made up yesterday, Rose posted about her and Will's breakup. She told their fans not to be sad, that they were both happier as friends. That their time trying out a romantic relationship had been the strangest few days of their lives. That it was a relief to be nothing more than pals again.

I hadn't ventured onto the Internet since then.

Rose's mouth pulled to one side, looking down at the basket's contents. "This is the weirdest chess set."

Mom lifted her eyebrows, her lips pursed.

"It’s so funny," Rose continued.

I shot my mom an, I told you so face.

She rolled her eyes, but there was a pleased glint in them.

"Why are the elves so happy?" Holding the box, Rose showed the front image to everyone. "They're pawns. They're being used."

"That's what I said! And the gingerbread men bishops? That implies a strange religion."

"Mr. And Mrs. Clause hold an interesting court."

"I love the reindeer knights, though."

"They are cute."

"What was the other one?" Will leaned forward for a better look. The curve where his neck and shoulder connected became my sole focus until I remembered he'd asked a question.

"The rooks are snowmen." Rose and I said in unison.

"Gotcha." Settling back, he draped an arm around my waist.

She nodded. "Yeah, they're kinda a bummer."

"The elves are the big winners," I agreed.

"Clearly."

The combination of my relationship with Rose repairing, and the love blooming in my heart for Will, had me giddy with Christmas spirit. I was practically Buddy the Elf.

Stop being so corny .

But I couldn't help it. My sister and I were not only on speaking terms, but friends again. My parents were being incredibly cool about the turn of events.

And Will, with his sexy hands, was mine.

I was happy and grateful.

Being bold was really paying off.

Will's arms wrapped around my ribs. I breathed in the clean smell of his skin.

He kissed the top of my head. "God, I want time to stop."

Laying my head on his chest, I tried to nuzzle into him as much as I could. "Me too."

"Maybe I could push back my flight."

He and Rose were scheduled to fly home in four days.

"I won't be far behind you. I'm going to start packing within the minute you leave."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

I ignored the movie on the basement television screen, too busy absorbing every detail that I could of Will. It would only be a few weeks of missing him. I could make it.

Even if I didn't want to.

Deprivation had never concerned me much. It did this time.

There are phones and the Internet. It'll be fine.

He might have been thinking the same thing or sensed how my heart was growing heavy because his arms pulled me in even tighter.

Footsteps moved down the hall. Unlike our first time alone in the basement, we didn't have to pray that we wouldn't be caught.

The door to the garage opened, and the sound of large boots on the floor overhead was distinct and out of place—considering it was well after midnight. A man's voice drifted down the stairs. I recognized it was Lawrence, but he and Rose were too quiet to make out any of their words. They went back and forth, their tones changing from irritated to vulnerable.

"There's no logic in the way I feel about you." His voice had notched a little louder, anger biting at every word. When he continued, he was too quiet again.

But his pain echoed in my head.

They must have been standing so close. Close enough to hold each other. It lasted for minutes.

Why can't they just be together?

I'd asked myself this question so many times over the years. Every time, I recalled all the steps that had brought them down this path. Even just the few fights I'd seen were full of words sharp enough to cut. They were never careful enough. Never kind enough.

Eventually, he left. One step after another was all it took, but the weight of him lingered. Rose remained, glued to her spot for a few moments after the door closed, before retreating to her bedroom.

When it was clear she was gone, Will said, "That seemed…depressing."

"I don't ever want to hurt like that." I used to think that I didn't want love like that either, but I suspected it was too late for me now.

Will hooked a finger under my chin. His eyes held mine with a burning intensity. He was staring into the deepest parts of me and wasn't looking away.

"I just want to be good to you," he promised.