His Heart for Christmas (Love is Back in Mistwood Hollow #1)

Chapter 3 - Emma

Josh’s expressions keep playing in my head. He was pissed about something, surprised about something else, but his eyes were so alive. So vibrant. Even if he didn’t give me a smile, even if his jaw barely relaxed the whole time we spent together, I think he wants more.

I can’t shake the scent of his cologne (so masculine and fresh), the view of him tossing trees around like they were nothing, or his gaze from my mind. It’s the only excuse I have for adjusting my covers in bed, closing my eyes and letting my hands trail over my body.

Massaging one breast, my other hand slips down over my belly and between my legs. I think of his hard chest, his intense blue eyes, and his thick, strong fingers. I need his fingers stroking my clit as he purrs my name against my ear, tells me how beautiful I look, promises me he’ll warm me up like this all winter.

Thrusting two fingers into my pussy, I gasp and arch. I can practically feel his stubble against my chest, feel his hot breath running over my skin as he tries to restrain himself and make me feel good first. A soft whimper leaves my throat as I add a third finger.

Josh would be rougher, more intense, so my hands obey. I pinch my nipple hard, biting my pillow to stifle the mewling groan that leaves my throat as I curl my fingers against my g-spot. Every thrust makes me want to pant his name, makes my fantasy of him on top of me more real.

He’d order, not ask me to come for him. He’d tell me to be a good girl, to enjoy it, to come and keep coming because he’s just getting started with me and –

I arch back as my thighs clamp around my hand. I cover my mouth, hoping my moans stay locked up in my room with me as I come. I whisper his name against my palm, then moan it when just that added hint of him makes my orgasm rocket higher.

When I come down from my pleasure, I feel ... wrong in a way. Like somehow Josh will know what I just did.

But I doubt he’d care if he did. He treated me like any other customer today, wanted me to buy, seemed worried that I didn’t. Sure, he’s gruff and grumpy by nature, but I would be too if I was doing the work of six people every day. He could use some help and even if I can’t manhandle trees on my own, I’d help him and I’d have something to do with my free time.

As I clean up, I nibble my bottom lip. Maybe if I work with him, I won’t fantasize about him constantly. Maybe ... just maybe I could see what’s under all that coldness in his eyes.

That final thought makes my decision. I’m going to work for Josh Harris.

***

In the morning, I head to Josh’s farm to avoid thinking of all the ways this plan of mine could backfire.

It’s early enough that no one but him and another worker are here. It’s a little warmer than yesterday, but still below freezing, so the snow crunches under my boots as I walk over to Josh.

He glances up, then stands when he sees me, his eyes taking me in. I tug my gloves on and put my hands on my hips. “Put me to work.”

“Emma,” he sighs. “I don’t need more help. If I did, I would get it.”

“Well, you have me here. I need something to do, so look at it as charity.”

“I donate,” he dismisses, his expression still hard.

“Please? If not for charity, then let me work and I’ll choose a tree before Christmas and we’ll call it even,” I offer.

Josh’s jaw tightens, but the more I pout and beg, and prove I know what to do, the more I see the reluctant ‘yes’ in his eyes. When he gives in, I hug him. I smile up at him even though his hands are still at his sides.

“I promise, if I become a problem or get in the way, you can just tell me not to come back,” I say.

He keeps watching me for a long moment, then motions to the wrapping station for the trees. “The manual is on the machine. Learn it and practice on a few of the three-footers.”

As I walk away, Tony chuckles from his place at the register. “Something wrong, boss?”

“She’s already trouble,” he answers coldly before getting to work.

I spend half the morning getting the machine to cooperate with me. I sweet talk it until I successfully wrap a tree, then beam. Josh stands next to me, since he can apparently walk around without making a sound.

I don’t know how a man as big, burly and ... imposing can be so silent. His arms are crossed over his chest as he inspects the tree. “Talking to the machine doesn’t do anything.”

“Sure it does,” I say, stroking the icy metal. “Being sweet does a whole lot more than yelling, based on my experience with technology ... and people.”

Josh watches me for a long moment. “Really? Being sweet, not firm, confident, assertive?”

“People are more willing to do something if they’re valued and feel appreciated,” I say with a shrug. “Thank you again for giving me a chance. I know I’m not all ... muscled like you are, but I’m determined.”

“I see that,” he says simply. “We need to haul some trees. You’ll take the top since it’s less heavy.”

“Don’t go easy on me, Josh. I can take it,” I say.

My voice is breathier than it should be, then I realize the implication of my words and blush. He arches an eyebrow, but leads me over to the trees we need to move. They’re easily taller than me, so when Josh gives me orders, I follow.

The last thing he needs is for one of us to get hurt. I make sure I have a good grip on each one we move, but considering he makes it look effortless, so easy, my mind continually wanders. Could he lift me this easily? Would he grip my thighs or hair the same way he grips these trees? Could I take all of him the way I want to?

Trying to corral my thoughts makes the day feel twice as long, but it’s nearly impossible either way. Josh is attractive, overwhelming when he’s right next to me, and he seems utterly resistant to being anything but bare-bones kind.

Josh walks up to me and glances towards the smaller trees. “It’s the afternoon rush, Emma. I need you making sure trees aren’t falling on the kids who run between them.”

“Sure! I love kids,” I say brightly.

He blinks at me. “Is there anything you’d say no to?”

“Well, you’re a reasonable man and you request reasonable things, so I doubt it,” I answer.

He steps closer to me and I stare up at him, the coldness in his gaze warring with some kind of indecision. He grabs my hand and I almost gasp at the contact. He’s so warm! I feel it through my glove, feel it all the way across my body and want to sink into it.

He takes my other hand and turns them palm up. “You need better gloves. You’ve nearly worn through these already.”

“Yeah. Silly me, I forgot how rough the bark is. But I’ll take care of it,” I assure.

“You can be done if this is too much,” he says.

I suck my bottom lip and look down at his thumbs rubbing over the threadbare spots in my gloves. A shiver teases my spine. “You gave me a job to do. I’m going to do it. I’m going to see it through until I physically can’t.”

He watches me for a long moment, then someone yells his name. He nods once. “Watch the kids.”

I take care of that, but when I do have to stabilize trees, or chase the kids to the smaller section, making it a game, my eyes flick towards the front. More than once, I catch Josh watching me with a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips. His blue eyes are still blazing, but softened.

“She’s a fun addition this year,” someone comments when I pick up a little boy and deliver him to his mother. The woman smiles at Josh. “It’s good to have some laughter and fun here. Someone with a gentler touch.”

“Twenty five dollars,” Josh says simply.

The woman pays, pats my cheek and tells me to say hi to my mom, then listens as her son tells her all about the fun he had. Josh moves closer to me, and I realize that the sun is setting.

“You’re ... doing well,” he finally says after a moment.

“It’s my gentle touch, you know,” I tease.

The corner of his mouth lifts. “Bring hot chocolate tomorrow.”

“You actually like sweets?”

His eyes dip to my lips before flicking back to mine. “I could learn to.”