Accidentally Under Your Tree (Grand Ridge Christmas #1)

4.Will

Four nights before Christmas

"Is it true you might get on Netflix or something?" the man asked. I still hadn't gotten his name. But we'd talked about roof trusses at length. The whole time, I kept Lizzy in my peripheral vision.

The moment she'd arrived, she'd been a menace to my focus. With her navy pants following the curve of her hips and thighs. Her sweater accentuating her fullness. Even from a distance, I liked the way she moved. It wasn't necessarily graceful, but it was purposeful. There was an assuredness and efficiency to her steps. And those smiles that I'd fallen so hard for did not get handed out easily—making them that much more precious.

When that dickhead had touched her, I'd struggled with a nagging jealousy. I had no right to dislike anyone talking to her. Not while stapled to Rose's side, pretending to be a dutiful boyfriend. Lizzy's irritated expression had propelled me without so much as an, 'I'll be right back.' My vision turned red when she'd tried getting out from under his arm.

Watching her from afar, I grappled between only wanting to be with her and knowing that was the last place I should be.

"Somthin' like that." I'd emailed our agent, Elise, reporting our recent jump in followers a few hours ago, but I hadn't gotten a response yet.

"So how did you two get started?"

"Rose and I worked for the same builder, and neither of us liked the way he was doing things, so we bought a house and flipped it. She recorded the whole thing, and it's been going ever since," I explained.

"Oh, no, I know that from the show. I meant, how did you two start dating? Did you ask her?"

"Uh…"

Oh shit. How did we not discuss this question?

"It wasn't…You know…It just kinda happened," I stammered. "I think she asked me."

A crease formed between his brows.

I opened my mouth to stammer a better story when Lizzy strolled to the front hallway. Fear that she might leave gripped me, and my need to be near her grew too strong to fight. It overwhelmed all my thoughts. Just one more…I didn’t know what would satisfy me.

"Will you excuse me?" I asked, but I was already walking away.

Taking long strides, I made my way to Lizzy with the stealth of an old spy movie—shoulders hunched, and glancing side to side.

I turned into the coat closet and found her pushing her arm through her sleeve. The soft purple color deepened the brown of her eyes bringing out the gold. Her hair cascaded in waves. The tether I held on to my resistance broke somewhere within the part of her lips.

I had just enough presence of mind to search for a door to close. Some semblances of privacy. There wasn't one. But the racks sat further from the walls than was necessary. Just enough room. Probably.

Looking over my shoulder, I checked for anyone within sight. I put a hand on her hip. Her palms pressed to my chest. Her softly floral scent tickled at the back of my brain and woke something primal. I needed her pressed between me and the wall. I needed to run my hands up her curves. I needed her mouth on mine.

The hangers clattered together as I shoved my shoulder between them, creating an opening wide enough to fit behind them. She hurried between the fabric, and I followed. For a moment we froze suspended in time. On the other side the party continued. Noise. People.

But in our makeshift hiding spot, it was just us.

"It's a bad idea," she whispered, understanding my purpose without explanation.

"It is," I agreed, but her mouth on mine swallowed my words.

I bit back a groan. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders. One of her hands raked through my hair. I leveraged her tighter to the wall, holding onto her soft waist. The desire to drive our forbidden kiss deeper was a deafening thunder throughout my body. Her head fell back as I ground my hips into hers, my erection seeking her warmth.

She tasted even better than I remembered.

How could a memory fade in only a few days? Especially as I clung to it, as if it might have saved me from a breaking point just like this.

I pinched her bottom lip between my teeth, and then let it slip gently free.

It wasn't enough. It couldn't be. It was a drop in a desert when I was dying of thirst.

Her breaths wracked through my chest.

I took in the garments hiding us. Regret turned just below my ribs. How could I protect her if we got caught? She deserved so much better than this.

"I want more," she said, barely loud enough to hear.

"I want to give you more." I hoped she could see the truth of those words. That the word 'more' could be replaced with 'everything.'

Pressing my forehead to hers, I struggled with my shame. “I’m sorry, Lizzy.”

“I…understand.”

Her acceptance brought me even lower—I would be underground soon.

I took in her swollen lips and the pink smear of her lipstick. Before I could change my mind, I took a step away. "You should leave first."

She tilted her head. For a moment, it looked like she might pull me back. And God knew I wouldn't resist her. But she slipped out, leaving me to pull upon every ounce of willpower I had not to follow her.

The coats swung on their hangers, and I wrestled with the possibility that I was making a huge mistake. Lying about my relationship with Rose, might land us a streaming deal. But it could also cost me a chance with Lizzy.

The clock in Rose's, and my bedroom continued to tick. Before she'd fallen asleep in the bed, she'd whispered, "I think you'd be good for Anne."

After a half-second to remember that Anne was Lizzy, I asked with too much enthusiasm, "Why do you say that?"

"Well, I know she'd be good for you. She'd help you plan better and be less spontaneous. Which obviously isn't a bad thing, but there's an argument that you and I could be more thoughtful."

"You mean like, not pretending to be your boyfriend for Internet clout?"

"Perfect example."

I grinned up at the ceiling. "Why would I be good for her, though?"

"You're loyal, and honest. And Anne deserves someone who is…captivated by her."

I was. She'd trapped me and I just wanted more of her captivity.

I swallowed, preparing myself. "I kissed her tonight."

"You did what?" Rose sat up in the bed to glare down at me.

"Yeah, I know. I'm a jackass."

"Yes, absolutely. But did she kiss you back?"

I thought of her fingers in my hair and her hungry mouth on mine. "Yeah."

"Wow." She fell back onto her pillow. "I might be wrong. You might be a terrible influence on her."

"Do you actually think that?"

“No, but you really are being a jackass.”

I didn’t bother to argue.

Rose fell asleep shortly afterward. I'd spent an unknown amount of time with my eyes closed, counting my breaths, praying for sleep. But it wouldn't come.

It was growing increasingly difficult in the quiet hours of the night to resist the urge to find Lizzy. To tap quietly on her closed door. To wait with held breath for her to allow me into her room. Praying to go unnoticed.

It was reckless. Getting caught fooling around with Lizzy would be immature at best. Her parents would never forgive me. It might salvage the situation if Rose and I came clean with her parents, but it wouldn't endear them to me. And my long game was to date Lizzy, to get to know her. Although we didn’t need their approval it would help.

There was something right between Lizzy and me. Even if wanting her was sweet torture.

I knew the taste of her, the way she gasped at my touch. She was everything I craved. Needing her was in my veins like fire. There was no putting it out. I just had to withstand it.

I could.

I would.

But I found myself throwing the covers off my torso and pushing to stand.

On bare feet, I padded out of the bedroom into the hallway.

Go back. You've already fucked up once today. Don't push your luck , the wiser part of my brain urged. I didn't listen.

The wood floors were cold on the soles of my feet. I stepped as quietly as manageable. My heartbeat like thunder shaking the earth. Every breath boomed down the quiet hall. It was in my head. I knew that. But just like I knew it was a terrible idea to stand outside of her door, I paused anyway.

Pressing my ear to the wood, I tapped twice with my fingertips. Waited.

Nothing.

She was probably sleeping. I should be too.

Go back to your room .

I'd dodged a disaster of my making. No one had seen me outside of her room like a desperately horny teenager. The possibility of a future with Lizzy hadn't imploded in my face. Really, it was only a few more days of staying under the same roof and then there'd be…so much space between us. States upon states between us—a quarter of a large country.

I missed her already. The feeling unjustified and confusing. If having her this close and out of touch was torture, the concept of so much distance was definitely worse.

I continued down the hall toward the dim light over the kitchen sink. Less careful to be silent, I opened a couple of cupboards, searching for a cup. I filled it and clung to the cold glass like it was a grip on my sanity. Lifting it to my mouth, I considered tossing it in my face. Something to break me out of this daze. Life was out of focus and hazy, and she was in vivid detail. The red and gold strands amongst the brown of her hair. The gentle press of her clavicles against her skin. The dimples at the base of her spine hidden under her clothes.

Running a hand down my face, I begged to a higher power for strength as I downed the glass of water in thirsty gulps.

I braced my hands on either side of the sink, glowering at my reflection in the window above it.

My smarter half was about to win out when an uncorked bottle of red wine on the counter caught my attention. From behind the basement door, came muffled Christmas music.

Even my smarter self fell quiet.

Lizzy

Four nights before Christmas

A slice of dim light cut down the stairs when Will opened the basement door. I knew it was him, like I knew the thrum of my pulse. My fingers tingled, remembering the strands of his hair between them, the press of his powerful body. I was foolish when it came to him—If we'd been caught making out behind coats…I wouldn’t survive the humiliation. I couldn't find it in me to care.

Not when leaving him had felt like deprivation.

My aching need grew with every detail I learned about him. He'd been so sweet in the car on the way to the stable, maneuvering the conversation to include me and Rose. Asking us questions about our favorite Christmas gifts, we had the same answer: a trip to Hawaii for our senior year spring break. We'd talked over each other, recalling hiking to waterfalls, and snorkeling, and laughing at our dad discovering he loved fresh ocean fish. Both of us doing our best impression of him repeating, "This is ridiculous."

Will's favorite gift was from his mom, his childhood dog, Scout. "She was a good dog," he'd said, his voice etched with reminiscence.

He had a comfort with vulnerability that most people struggled with—me included. But in the presence of his openness, I found my guard dropping—allowing the shattered pieces of my heart to fit back together.

And then the way he'd swooped in and handled Mitchell. Will's protective side was just as sexy as every other angle I'd seen of him.

"Hello," he whispered from the top of the stairs.

"Hi," I whispered back.

I barely heard him close the door over the softly playing music. His descent was near silent, each step punctuated my anticipation, amping up my excitement.

We were alone.

Finally.

Taking the last step, he planted his feet shoulder width apart. His white T-shirt was loose around his waist but fitted to his shoulders and pecs. His gray sweatpants sat low on his hips. He looked perfectly confident, except for his bare toes curling and uncurling on the carpet.

With the tilt of his head, he lifted the wine bottle I'd left upstairs. "Can I top you off?"

I resisted the corny urge to answer, Thought you'd never ask . Instead, I nodded and lifted my nearly empty glass.

"What are you doing down here in the dark?" he asked.

I jerked my head toward the laptop open on my lap. "Working."

Heat burned my cheeks as I realized that was what I intended, but I was actually scrolling through his Instagram. It'd lured me like a moth to the flame when I'd gone to the show's profile. The top post was the picture I'd taken earlier of him and Rose. In it he was looking at, or possibly just past, the camera with an intensity I recognized.

The top comment was from @iliketodoitmyself saying, If Bill looked at me the way he's looking at the camera I would combust.

Girl, same, I thought, but I didn't respond.

I sat my glass on the side table angling my computer away from Will. Judging by his lifted eyebrow, I didn't angle far enough.

"Is that me?" He leaned down, putting a hand on the back of the sofa, the knuckle of his thumb touching my shoulder. That one point of contact was enough for my heart rate to jump. My lungs wanted more air, but I was sure he'd notice if I started panting.

"It's pro bono work," I lied.

He lifted a skeptical eyebrow.

"Your social media presence is the bedrock of your advertisement efforts. Should you ever suffer from scandal or a change in algorithm, it'd be wise to establish a few other avenues to drive business."

He straightened and grinned down at me. "Nice save."

"Thank you." I closed the laptop and set it down on the coffee table.

"Have more thoughts?”

"Always.”

The sofa was old and beaten in, and I sank a bit in his direction when he lowered onto the opposite cushion. I propped my elbow to rest my chin. I was overly aware of the space he took up, the negative space that I could fit into. My sudden lack of confidence caught me off guard. Just a few hours ago, I'd been willing to risk it all for the quickest make-out session in a coat closet.

"Here." Will patted his thigh.

"You want me to sit on your lap?"

He cocked his head to the side as if to say, Kinda . But what he said was, "Prop your feet on me so you don't have to be all corkscrew."

My pulse lost a beat or two. A fresh surge of energy lit me up from the inside. I was going to get to geek out about one of my favorite things, while touching him without having to pretend it was an accident or hiding.

I rotated, setting my bare feet on his firm thigh. One of his big hands circled my ankle, and it took me a moment to recover.

"What were you saying about algorithms?" he asked, running his thumb from the top of my foot to the bottom of my calf.

I swallowed. "Um…A better place to start would be, how much of your finances are based on your flips and how much is based on your YouTube channel?"

A crease formed between his eyebrows. "It's still primarily flips. I'd say 75-25."

"Okay, so a significant amount from the show. One benefit of it is that it's evergreen material. Even if details of a video fall out of fashion, there's still helpful information there. And obviously its residual income. But you also sacrifice privacy."

His hold on me tightened, then relaxed. "Would that be a problem for you?"

"No, it's no problem to create an infrastructure for your business. We just have to be strategic."

He bit his lower lip, his teeth glinted in the lights of the mini Christmas tree in the corner. "I meant, would it be a problem for you ?"

"Oh." I pinched the hem of my sweatshirt between my fingers, folding it over and over. "It would…be challenging."

A muscle ticked in his jaw.

"But um…" I began reminding myself how rewarding being bold had been. "I would be willing to try."

His eyes flicked to mine. It was too dark to make out their color, but there was no missing the heat in them. "You would?"

"This is," I searched my mind for the right word, "complicated."

He scoffed.

"But it's given me a chance to see you, the way you help my sister, how genuinely kind you are. I like you."

He tilted his face away from me, hiding his expression. "You deserve better than this."

A million partial thoughts flitted through my mind, but they all agreed with him. At the same moment, I didn't feel used, just dissatisfied.

I finally said, "It's temporary."

I glanced down at my fidgeting fingers. "It'd take some finessing. You and Rose would announce your break-up"—I put finger quotes around break-up—"You and I could date in secret for a few months. I wouldn't want to go public because it's just not me."

"So, you wouldn't openly date me?"

"That's not what I'm saying." I wrapped my hands around my thighs and pulled myself closer to him. "I wouldn't want to be on your show, or on any of your social media. We'd be public in our lives, but not on the internet."

"Given some thought?"

If you only knew how much I think about you…

"Some," I conceded. "Would that be enough for you?"

"Yes." He answered without hesitation. There was something so earnestly sweet about it. I fell a little further for him.

I nodded.

His thumb went back to its up and down motion. I was robbed of my ability to think. There was still more to discuss. Long-distant relationships were hard, and I didn't know how it would work, but he had a way of keeping me in the present. At that moment, we had an opportunity I wanted to take advantage of.

"No one knows we're down here," I whispered.

He froze before his eyes drew searing lines up my legs and body. His eyes bore into mine.

"If anyone walked down the hallway," I continued, "we'd have enough warning."

He swallowed. His shoulders clenched. I wanted to run my hands over the bound muscles. To wrap my legs around him. To have his mouth on mine and not deprive myself.

It had only been a few days, but the memory of his body on mine, in mine, kept me awake at night with need. My pulse drummed a beat through my whole body.

His eyes flicked to the ceiling, then to me.

The graze of his fingertips up the thin layer of my leggings sent shivers down my spine.

He gripped the back of my knee. "We have to be quiet."

"I can be quiet," I promised.

The press of his lips on the inside of my knee burned through fabric. My back arched. My nails scraped against the sofa cushions. I gasped.

Already too sensitive to his touch. It would have been humiliating if I wasn't so incensed.

"Shhh." He breathed down my thigh.

He pushed my leg between his body and the backrest.

With every kiss he pressed to my stomach, my chest, my throat, bound my heart. Until he brushed his soft lips along my jaw.

I bit my lips between my teeth to keep from calling out.

Hooking my legs around his waist, I pulled his mouth to mine. The brush of his tongue pulled me from underwater. My lungs filled with air, my body desperate for the oxygen that only he could provide. The soothing clarity that he was just as needy for me. I couldn't explain how I knew. Whatever called from within me found its answer in him.

His fingers dug into my waist.

We both groaned as I rocked my hips. The pressure of his hard cock against my sensitive clit sent shivers down my spine.

A floorboard overhead creaked.

We stilled except for the rise and fall of our chests.