Festive Hearts And Kisses (Hope Valley Christmas 2)

11. Reed

REED

The Sheffield office is similar enough to my last one that I feel almost at home when I walk in. The faces that fill the space are different than I’m used to, but not all of them are unfamiliar, and they all seem pretty friendly so far.

My desk is in the corner, so I have my back to the wall and look out onto the rest of the team. It’s such a prime spot I’m surprised someone hasn’t snapped it up before now. It means I can check my phone without fear of anyone seeing me. Not that phones are banned or anything—it’s not school—but I don’t want to be known as the new guy who’s always on his phone.

And I’m not. I just like to check my messages now and again.

Like now, for example, I’m hiding behind my monitor, reading back over my text exchange with Jerry from yesterday.

His response to my obvious innuendo still makes me smile. I wish I could’ve teased him in person, but he was at the farm longer than he expected and I ended up eating takeout on my own. Which, not gonna lie, was a little disappointing. But that’s the life of being a vet out here.

I left his portion in the fridge again with another note, and sure enough, one was waiting for me when I got up this morning. It’s sitting in my wallet with the first one. I’m not sure why I’ve kept them, nor why they make me smile so much, but I’ve decided not to analyse things too closely.

I feel lighter than I have in months, and I’m not about to go poking around to see why that might be in case I jinx it.

Another reason I’m sat looking at my phone is because I’m expecting a text from Paul any time now. My best friend’s coming to this office for a meeting this afternoon, and I’ve promised him lunch first.

His name flashes on my screen as I’m about to set it on my desk.

Paul : I’m downstairs at reception.

Paul: Chatting to Mel. Seems you’ve made quite the impression already.

Reed : Ok. On my way.

Reed : And be nice to Mel, she likes me and I don’t want that to change!

She’s the one who told me about the little café I’m taking Paul to, and she’s also the fount of all knowledge when it comes to office gossip apparently. I want to stay on her good side.

The café is about a five-minute walk and thank god because it’s cold today.

“Is it just me,” Paul grumbles, hands shoved into his coat pockets. “Or is it about ten degrees colder up here.”

“Up here? Where exactly do you think we are?”

“North enough that I’m fucking freezing.”

I snort and shake my head, because he’s ridiculous. And I’ve missed him. I tell him so and pull him in for a side hug.

“Missed you too,” he says softly, then nudges me. “How’s it going over here with your new team? Obviously, they’re not a patch on your old one.”

“Obviously.”

“But are they all right?”

“Yeah. They’re a friendly group.”

“Good.” He nods to himself, then adds, “For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing. The past couple of weeks the whole team has been in the office most days.”

Ahh.

By that he means Karl. And there’s no way I want to have to see him day in day out. And god forbid have to work with him.

“I think I did too.” I shrug. “It’ll just take a bit of getting used to, that’s all.”

We finally reach the café, and I find us a seat along the back wall.

To Paul’s credit, he manages to hold off until we’re sat down waiting for our food to arrive before he starts.

“So, how’s it going with Jerry? Have you fucked each other yet?”

Thankfully he keeps his voice low, but it’s still probably not the place for this conversation. Although no one seems to be paying us much attention.

Paul kicks me under the table. “No one’s listening. Come on... my life’s boring these days. I need to live vicariously through you.”

“I’m sure your better half will be thrilled to hear that.”

“You know what I mean,” he says with an eye roll, then adds, “but maybe don’t tell him I said that.”

“I like living with Reed.” I fiddle with the cutlery I’d fetched for us. “And no... we haven’t fucked.” I don’t look at him when I say that last bit, because he can read me easily sometimes and he’ll know .

Silence follows my statement, and when I dare to glance up, Paul is staring at me, one eyebrow arched.

“What?”

“Don’t what me. I know you. You can’t lie for shit.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Okay, so maybe you haven’t fucked. But you’ve done something, right? Things aren’t strictly platonic with your hot vet friend anymore, are they?”

I really regret the day I told Paul what I’d initially called Jerry in my phone.

I’m not about to tell him any details, but things have changed, and I want to tell someone. “No. They’re not.”

His eyes widen in delight.

“But it’s just casual, while I look for somewhere new to live.”

“And when will that be?”

I shrug, because I have no idea. “Whenever my house sells, I guess. It only went on the market a few weeks ago. I’ll start looking for a place after Christmas. For now, I want to have a bit of fun and enjoy the whole festive season this year, because god knows last year’s was a bit shit.”

“Fair enough.”

I narrow my eyes, because I’d expected more of an inquisition if I’m honest. “That’s it?”

“Yeah.” It’s Paul’s turn to shrug. “You said you’re just having fun. If it starts to get serious, I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

I hum in response, deliberately not thinking about the notes in my wallet. It is just a bit of fun.

Our food arrives and both of us tuck in. An easy silence settles between us, broken only when Paul sits back with a contented sigh. “Mel was right. The food’s great here.”

“She’s not steered me wrong yet.”

Paul frowns. “You’ve been in the office a lot since you joined. I thought it was one or two days a week at most?”

“Yeah, it is. I’m doing a few more to start with while I get to know everyone. After today, apart from our Christmas party, I don’t need to come back in until the new year.” Which is great because, while it’s not a long drive, distance wise, the roads aren’t the best.

Paul’s face goes through a range of emotions until he settles on curious. “So it’ll just be you and Jerry from now until Christmas?”

“I guess. Why?”

“Just wondered.”

I narrow my eyes and fold my arms across my chest, waiting him out.

“I bet it’s all cosy with the Christmas decorations and everything.”

“It is.” Just last night I snuggled on the living room sofa with only the tree lights on watching TV. I had Frank on my lap, the other two sprawled out on the rug. The only thing that could’ve made it any better was if Jerry had been there.

And I guess that’s his point, but I’m not about to admit that.

“I’m not about to jump into a relationship, Paul. I’ve only just got over the last one. I like Jerry. We have fun, but it’s nothing serious.” Only half of that sentence rings true, but I can’t think about that now.

Paul holds his hands up. “Fine, I can take a hint. I’ll shut up about you and the lovely vet.”

“Thank you.”

“So, you coming back to see your parents at Christmas?”

“Yeah. Planning on driving over on either Christmas Day or Boxing Day, not sure yet.”

“Gonna come over and see me too?”

I roll my eyes. “Like my mum hasn’t already invited you over for Christmas dinner.” As soon as she discovered Paul’s parents were no longer with us, she made a point of inviting him over for all the holidays. I doubt this year will be any different. “In fact, I bet she’s invited both of you, right?”

He laughs. “She has.” His eyes twinkle with amusement. “What about Jerry? What are his plans for Christmas?”

“Er...” It only occurs to me then that I have absolutely no idea. “Not sure.” I remember him saying his parents don’t live far from him, so I assume he’ll see them at some point. For some reason, it bothers me that I don’t know.

Paul and I head back to the office together but part ways in reception after he makes me promise to let him know my plans for Christmas.

The afternoon drags, and I spend most of my time daydreaming and wondering if Jerry’ll be there when I get home later.

It’s dark when I leave work. The drive back to Charnwell isn’t the nicest when I’m still not sure where I’m going, but when I turn onto Jerry’s street, all that’s forgotten because the houses on either side are lit up in all their festive glory.

All very tasteful and understated but it’s worth slowing down for, and I take the last few hundred metres home at a crawl. It’s like I saved the best for last though, because there’s something about Jerry’s house that’s extra special.

Maybe it’s the beautiful Christmas tree in his garden, strung with coloured lights that fade in and out in a gentle wave. Maybe it’s the way the path is lit up, inviting you to take a walk up to the front door. Or maybe it’s because I know Jerry’s inside, because his car’s parked on the driveway.

It’ll be the first night we’ve both been home together since we decided we’re doing... well, whatever it is we’re doing. I’m still not clear on what to call it, I just know that I want to keep doing it.

And maybe now we’re both in the same space, we can.

I park my car behind his and get out, a little spring in my step.

Jen greets me as I unlock the door, so first things first, I crouch down to give her some fuss. I never thought of myself as a dog person before, I mean, I like them well enough, but cats were more my thing. The longer I’m here, though, the less I think that’s true.

There’s the soft clanging of cutlery coming from the kitchen, and now that I think about it, the most delicious smell. One deep breath in and I’m groaning because I’m suddenly ravenous.

I glance up to see Jerry standing in the kitchen doorway, watching me, and food is all but forgotten. His eyes are dark, bottom lip caught between his teeth, and he’s looking at me like he’s two seconds away from hauling me to my feet and kissing the hell out of me.

A prospect I’m very much here for.

I also spot a familiar little something above his head.

When I stand and Jerry stays put, still watching, I walk over and come to a stop in front of him. “Tsk-tsk,” I murmur. “You’re just asking for bad luck, aren’t you?”

He frowns for a moment before glancing up and huffing out a laugh. “I forgot it was there.”

“Well, it is.” I take a step closer, feeling bold because that hungry look in his eyes is back in full force. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I whisper, “Rules are rules.”

He smiles as he slides his hands around my waist and down to cup my arse. “I’m not one to mess with tradition.” Dipping his head, he trails gentle kisses up along the side of my neck. “Especially this time of year.”

I shiver as he reaches that spot behind my ear. This close I can smell the faint traces of citrus shower gel, and the floral scent of his shampoo. He’s all clean and freshly showered—and I want to dirty him up again so we can share one together.

His teeth graze the shell of my ear, but it’s not enough. I want to feel his lips on mine, to kiss him like I’ve imagined doing all day. I tug him up enough to kiss him properly and close my eyes.

It’s as all-consuming as the first time. And every time since.

He tightens his grip on my arse, drawing me against him so that I’m very aware of exactly how much he’s enjoying this. Pretty sure I’m not hiding anything either, and I give in to the urge to grind against him.

He’s a gorgeous mix of hard muscle and a softness that makes for the best hugs as he holds me close.

Jerry kisses like we have all the time in the world, like I’m the only thing that matters in this moment, worthy of all his focus, and it’s so indescribably good I don’t want it to ever end.

But the oven timer has other ideas, the shrill beep making me jump and Jerry laugh.

“Dinner’s ready,” he says, but he doesn’t let me go straight away. He smooths my hair back and then cups my jaw. I wait for him to say more because the intensity in his gaze implies he has something on his mind, but then he blinks, and smiles, and it’s gone. “Hungry?”

“Yeah. Starving.” I’ll file that away for later. Or maybe I’ll just let it go, because if he wanted to tell me whatever was bothering him, he would’ve done.

He steps back but takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen. His grip is firm and warm, his fingers slotted with mine, and I miss his touch when he lets go to get dinner out of the oven.

I add holding hands with someone to the list of things I didn’t realise I’d been missing. It’s not lost on me that I only started that list after meeting Jerry. But that’s something for future Reed to worry about.

Right now I have food and an evening with Jerry to enjoy.

“What do you want to watch?” Jerry passes me a glass of water and settles on the sofa next to me. Watching TV wasn’t on my list of things to do when Jerry kissed me under the mistletoe, but with a full belly, Frank on my lap, and the day catching up to me, I need a minute—or thirty—to just relax and sit. Judging by the groan Jerry let out when he sat down, I’m guessing he feels the same. Probably more so, considering the dark shadows under his eyes.

The living room is warm and cosy, the fairy lights on the tree giving it that magical feel that you only get at Christmas. Given how comfortable Jerry’s sofa is, I think the pair of us are in danger of falling asleep if we’re not careful.

When I still haven’t answered, Jerry nudges his knee against mine. “Well?” His leg stays pressed against mine, and I’m instantly aware of every place we now touch. Even through two layers of clothing, that small area of contact is enough to send a thrill through my veins.

“Um...” I’m still not ready to move yet, so I try and think of something I’d like to watch, but honestly? Right now I don’t care. “Do we have to turn the TV on? I can’t be bothered to concentrate on anything.” I yawn as if to prove my point, making Jerry do the same. It always amuses me when that happens. “I’m happy to sit here and just talk, if you want?” My head’s resting against the back of the sofa, and I turn to face him.

He’s got this soft look in his eyes as he smiles at me. “We can do that.”

“Okay.” I take a sip of my water, then hand it to Jerry to put on the coffee table. He does it with a raised eyebrow.

I gesture to Frank, stretched out lengthways like a long black something . I’m too lazy to think of an apt description. “I can’t possibly move now.”

Jerry shakes his head at me, but he’s still smiling when he reaches over to stroke down Frank’s back.

His hands are big enough that his fingers trail along my inner thigh. I inhale sharply, my body waking up in all the right places. I think Jerry did it by accident, but then I catch the gleam in his eyes.

He strokes Frank again, and laughter bubbles out of me. “I can’t believe you’re using my cat as an excuse to touch me. I’m shocked on Frank’s behalf.”

Jerry grins and tickles Frank under the chin instead. “Sorry, Frank.”

I love my cat, but at the minute he’s three and a half kilograms of cock-blocking feline.

“Yeah. Sorry, Frank.” I gently pick him up and move him to his overpriced but ridiculously comfy-looking cat bed on the floor. He grumbles once, then curls around and settles down to sleep.

I’m not sure where Jen and Kyla are but hopefully they’re asleep somewhere.

When I turn to face Jerry, his gaze quickly snaps up from looking at my arse. With his thighs spread, arms tucked behind his head, and body sunk down into the sofa, he’s the picture of relaxation.

All apart from his eyes.

His gaze is sharp, intense, as he watches me walk towards him. I’m not sure what the etiquette is for whatever it is we’re doing, but based on the way he’s looking at me right now, I think we’re on the same page.

I take a chance and climb onto his lap, straddling him, with my hands on his shoulders. His big, broad shoulders. And I take a second to run my hands over his muscles. We’re so close like this, there’s nowhere to hide, and I’m surprised to find I don’t want to.

Right now, there’s nothing about me that I don’t want Jerry to see. I wonder if he senses it, because his smile softens into the one he rarely lets out.

My favourite one.

“Changed your mind about talking?”

“Yep.” Whose stupid idea was that? Oh right, mine. “We can do that later, maybe.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, ducking his head to kiss the base of my throat. It seems to be a favourite spot of his, and it’s fast becoming one of mine too.

He runs those strong hands of his up and down my back and I arch into his touch, wanting it all over me. There are far too many clothes in the way for my liking, but I’m enjoying this too much to do anything about it just yet.

Jerry’s not so patient. He grabs the bottom of my jumper, tugging it up and over my head. My T-shirt follows, along with Jerry’s clothes, until we’re both naked from the waist up.

The pyjama bottoms Jerry’s got on are soft and easy to pull down. I’m wishing I’d gone upstairs to change when I had the chance, because my jeans aren’t made for easy access.

Only one way to fix that.

Jerry watches, amused, as I stand, then nearly fall over in my haste to get my jeans off. I end up standing on them and lifting alternate legs, dignity long gone, and he’s grinning at me by the time I’m done.

Nothing to do but embrace it. I shoot him a wink. “Sexy, huh?”

He laughs. “I’ve never been more turned on.”

Despite the levity of the moment, I really want that statement to be true. I’m still in my tight black boxer briefs. I can work with that. I slide a hand over the front of them, palming my cock through the material. I’m only half-hard after wrestling with my jeans, but a little attention soon has me thickening up.

Jerry’s gaze drops to my groin, and I notice with satisfaction that he’s slipped a hand inside his pyjamas and there’s a definite bulge under there.

“Take them off.” His eyes meet mine, dark and radiating enough heat to make me swallow hard. “Then come here.” He nods to his lap, where his hand moves slowly back and forth under the material.

He’s so fucking hot, it takes me a moment to realise I should be doing something other than watching. I slide my boxers off and step out of them, my cock now hard and desperate for the same treatment Jerry’s is getting.

He pushes his pyjamas and underwear down and off, and my mouth waters at the sight of him. I want to taste him.

Instead of climbing back onto his lap, I drop to my knees and Jerry groans as he realises where this is heading. He spreads his thighs a little wider, giving me room, and I run my hands up them, loving the feel of the soft dark hairs under my palms.

He’s still stroking his cock, slow and lazy, and he has his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he watches me. Waiting.

I dip my head, letting him feed me his cock.

“Fuck,” he grits out as I sink down and take him into my mouth. I replace his hand with mine, holding him steady as I take my time tracing his length with my tongue. His fingers find my hair instead, tugging gently each time I suck him deep, like he can’t help himself. I want more, though. I want him to lose control and forget the need to be careful with me.

I don’t want careful.

I do my best to get him there, my hand and mouth a coordinated assault that has him fisting my hair tight, the sting sharp and wonderful, and I’ve never felt so alive.

Or so hard.

Before I can do anything about that though, Jerry grabs my shoulders and eases me back off him. “Get up here.” His voice is rough, like he’s so close to the edge it’s taking everything he’s got not to come.

I scramble onto his lap, and into the kiss he lays on me. It’s desperate and wild, and I cling to his shoulders as he wraps a hand around us both, moaning at the slide of his cock against mine.

I break for air, gasping as I grind my hips, chasing the feeling building inside me.

“Gonna come,” Jerry whispers, face pressed against the crook of my neck, his breath hot on my skin. I’m almost there when he shudders, cock pulsing as he comes between us. His teeth scrape over my collar bone, and that’s all it takes to tip me over the edge too.

We stay like that, our breathing the only sound in the quiet of the room.

Until the peace is broken by a loud, mournful meow.

We both turn to glance at the floor where Kyla is looking up at us, glaring, actually, like we are the absolute worst.

There’s another beat of silence and then we crack up laughing.

At least there’s no post-sex awkwardness now.

But there’s no cuddling either, because there’s no way I can sit there, naked, with a judgemental cat watching me. Maybe that’s for the best, because it also means it’s easier to part ways at the top of the stairs later that night and go to our respective bedrooms.

We’re not a couple.

I’m not ready for that after Karl.

And while I like Jerry and the sex is hot as fuck, I need this small degree of separation to keep myself from panicking.

I want to enjoy this for what it is, not worry about what it can’t be.

But as I settle down in bed, the thick quilt pulled up to my chin and my two feline companions in place, I drift off imagining what it would be like with a solid warmth at my back and a strong arm slung around my waist.