Accidentally Under Your Tree (Grand Ridge Christmas #1)

4.William

Seven nights Before Christmas

"The marriage didn't last as long as the wedding planning." It was my canned remark anytime the subject of past relationships came up. First dates and podcast interviews received it well. It brushed over the worst year and a half of my life and made people comfortable. No one ever responded with, "I'm sorry." Or, "That must have been so hard." Information was received in the manner it was delivered. I didn't seem bothered, so neither were they.

"Hmm." Lizzy considered me. A mahogany ring circled the outside of her brown eyes, an endless circle for me to spiral into.

Before she could say something I didn't have an automatic script for, I asked, "What about you?"

"I had a live-in boyfriend for four years, but when I lost my job, he told me he didn't want to support me while I built my business. I moved in with my parents instead. We didn't last a month in different cities."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm not." She lifted her shoulders and let them fall. "At the time, there’d been so much that needed changing in my life. Broken systems. I should have seen it."

I took a sip from the beer I'd just ordered. The power had restored about forty minutes ago. Neither of us were in a hurry to leave for our rooms. I'd sit there all night if she'd just keep inching her knee a little closer to mine. The anticipation of contact was giving me more of a buzz than the alcohol.

She chewed on her plump lower lip, and my brain fizzled offline. "I can't believe I just told you that."

"Why?"

"I don't think I've told my best friend that."

"Why are you telling me?"

She held my gaze. Her lips were always slightly parted—soft, inviting. The opposite of her icy demeanor. It slowly thawed, and I slipped into the warmth she had just underneath.

I leaned toward her and breathed in the citrus scent of her perfume to hear her airy whisper, "It's probably the stranger in the dark of it all. It feels safe to tell you…things."

Looking over my shoulder, I took in the empty bar. "Not that dark, anymore."

The muscles in her throat flexed. Her words sounded squeezed as she spoke to the straw pinched between her fingertips. "Not much of a stranger anymore."

I rubbed my chest, trying to reach the ache her little vulnerability had put there.

She twirled the straw, tapping it on the bar-top. Her knee bounced near mine. The pink of her cheeks deepened and seeped to the skin of her neck. "I should probably call it a night."

"I should too."

She hesitated to meet my eyes, but when she did, the surrounding air filled with something different. Molecules shifted and adjusted. Energy crackled in the new chemistry. Realizing I'd paused with my beer halfway to my mouth, I lowered it back to the bar.

"I feel…" she trailed off.

I gripped the back of her stool, my hand close enough to feel the heat of her body. The desire to touch her was too much. She had a pull, a magnetism, a gravity. I wanted to sink into the curve of her neck. I could surrender to this attraction. Give in to the tug of her presence, a tightening string wrapping around her finger. It'd been there since the moment I'd sat next to her. The call of her body to mine was a whisper tickling my ear.

"What?" I nearly growled.

"Naked."

She didn't mean undressed. She meant emotionally bare. Exposed. I knew that. But my cock didn't.

I was hard as iron at just the insinuation of this beautiful, intelligent, and guarded woman stripped down. This woman whose last name I didn't know. But I knew the way she blushed when I complimented her on her entrepreneurship. Or how she smiled and rolled her eyes when she told me about her best friend.

I knew like I knew that I needed oxygen to breathe that I needed to know her.

Clearing my throat, I asked, "Would you feel better if I told you something I don't normally talk about?"

"If you want to." She exhaled a sigh. "Yeah."

I shifted, my sweater suddenly feeling tight. "I… My marriage was the worst time in my life and the divorce was a relief." There was a wrinkle in my beer's label, I couldn't smooth out. "She's a good person, and I think I am, too. But we were toxic together. We kept fucking everything up."

"Why'd you get married?"

It wasn't a question too far, as much as the answer was too complicated. My thumb swiped one last time over the folded ridge of the label.

My chest rose as I sucked in a deep breath of air before blowing it out of my pursed lips.

With a lopsided grin, I turned to face her again. "Should we leave something to unpack for the second date?"

She rolled her lips between her teeth, fighting her smile. Her knee inched a little closer. "We haven't discussed a first date yet."

"How do you feel about hitting fast-forward and calling tonight date number one?"

"Mm-hm."

"I could pick you up from your parents like your prom date," I joked.

She snorted. "God, no."

My smile was too big.

What is this woman doing to me?

"Can I get your phone number?" I would normally find her on Instagram and DM her, but my profile was full of lies at the moment. Comments from strangers celebrating me and Rose announcing our relationship.

It'd been spontaneous, and I was regretting it now. How single had I become that the prospect of meeting someone hadn't even crossed my mind?

Lizzy's eyes flicked to mine. She held her hand palm up, and my fingers grazed hers as I handed her my phone. Electricity shot up my wrist. Her fingertips were cold. I wanted to press them to my neck to warm them. I wanted to brush my lips over them. I wanted to draw a line along her jaw to her mouth with mine.

I shifted, my pants were uncomfortably tight.

She tapped her number into my contacts and handed the phone back.

It sat between us on the bar top, forgotten by the conversation happening between our eyes. Hers questioning and tentative. Mine wanting—offering. After a few silent breaths, she entwined her fingers in mine, our palms pressed together. My other hand gripped white knuckled to the back of her seat.

All my blood rushed to where her knee connected with the inside of my thigh. The anticipation finally brought to volition. Every sensation and thought came from that single point. Sparking, muddled ideas. Half-formed impulses barely restrained.

With each breath, we found space and drifted inch by inch nearer. She tilted her head. Sweet and tart air drifted around her—cranberry from her drinks.

When her lips touched mine, tension broke loose in my chest. A fresh need finally fulfilled.

She sighed, and I felt it in my core.

Lizzy

Seven nights Before Christmas

I had never been so bold.

I pressed my palm to Will's. It was just as strong and rough as I'd imagined. I'd started the descent into the space between our mouths. I did that.

Goddamn, boldness was paying off.

Will kissed like my mouth was his last meal, and he needed to savor every taste and texture. Like I was sacred. Invaluable.

It was heady. Drifting on the current of sensations—the ache throbbing between my legs, the heat of his other hand drifting from my back to my hip—my mind blissfully empty. There weren't any self-judgments. They'd evaporated to make room for the bombardment of desire.

Had I ever wanted anything this badly? I didn't know whether to curse this bar for being public or thank it. If we were alone, I would have climbed on his lap by now. Where would his hands go if I straddled him? His mouth?

Then he groaned deep in his throat, and his thumb ran along the tender flesh over my pulse, and I cursed this public place. Fuck this bar. Fuck polite society. I wanted to wrap my naked body around his. If I could will my clothes to disappear, they'd be gone.

If I had magical powers, he wouldn't even own clothes.

I snorted, instantly changing the mood.

He went from inviting ease to stiff backed, and still, all firm muscle—impressively firm…

"That wasn't at you," I whispered.

"It's okay." He pulled back, his green eyes searching mine. "Are you okay?"

"Yes!" I practically screamed three inches from his face. "My God, I didn't mean to yell at you."

One corner of his lips curved up.

I probably should have taken as a sign to relax, but the flutters in my stomach were sharp-edged and there were too many of them. "I thought something funny, and I laughed. But it's not like I meant to laugh. I wasn't laughing at you. I just…laughed."

Crinkles deepened at the corners of his eyes. And thank God he was so pretty. He took the words out of my mouth, when clearly nothing else could have made me stop yapping.

"As long as you're good, I'm good." His words rumbled at the back of his throat. They climbed up my spine.

"You're very good."

Oh my God, woman. Could you pretend you've kissed a man before?

I stood too fast. My face was too hot. I'd been lulled into an unusual state of comfort, and this was the inevitable consequence. People didn't generally like me right away. It took months, sometimes years, for me to let people see me. It was a lesson learned either from my natural introverted nature and anxiety, or because of the loss of the friendship I'd had with my twin sister. A loss that had shaken the very core of me. It'd been eight years, and I was still figuring out who I was if I wasn't someone she loved anymore.

But somehow Will had turned the dial down on the noise in my head. The voice saying, "That was a weird thing to do with your hands." Just one faux pas on my part and the voice blasted full volume in my mind.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

"I'm going to go to my room." Then I wondered if that sounded like an invitation, so I added, "Alone."

Eyebrows raised, he blinked.

I couldn't even blame him. He was normal—better than normal. He was like the whisperer of skittish women, or at least, woman. I was the one freaking out.

"Sorry," I whispered. Embarrassingly, my eyes stung.

"You have nothing to apologize for. You don't owe me anything."

"God… please don't be nice."

"I'm not."

I rolled my eyes, and I almost wanted to smile.

"I'm not," he repeated. "I promise."

"Then what are you doing?"

"The bare minimum." He nudged the toe of my boot with his. "It's okay to change your mind."

I pinched my lips together, disappointment a heavy ball in my gut. I hadn't changed my mind. My mind wanted…all of it. Anything Will would give me—a second date, more of that kiss, a tour of his hotel room and naked body.

He tipped back the last of his beer, his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. Setting his empty bottle down, he said, "I have an early day tomorrow. I should head up too."

"Excuse me," he called to the bartender. "Will you charge this to room 1008?"

She nodded and waved.

"You don't have to pay for my drinks." I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Seems like the right thing to do on a first date." He grinned in that unarming way of his. "I'll walk you to the elevators."

He still seemed interested in me, despite my sporadic behavior. I could turn this around.

Be bold , I insisted in my mind. But I'd used up my lifetime supply on one perfect kiss.