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

Chapter 5 - Emma

Josh seems to shut down slightly over the next two days. He doesn’t say much, barely does more than grunt at me, but I can actually feel him watching me. Twice, he keeps me from hurting myself when I’m too busy talking to other people to pay attention to all the dangers around me.

The second time, I only notice because the woman I’m trying to convince to buy a seven-foot Christmas tree gasps, then gets a look on her face that shows exactly how turned on she is. I feel movement behind me, and when I look over my shoulder, I see Josh there—his biceps straining against his flannel shirt, his thighs braced and bulging as he manhandles an eight-footer back into place.

His gaze flicks to me as he pants, looking me over as if taking inventory, then he growls, “Pay attention, Emma. That could have crushed you.”

“ That’s not what I want crushing me” I think, realizing I’m no better than the woman ogling him.

He’s a force of nature, a constantly renewing fantasy of heat and growly prowess that I want to possess. I’ve masturbated to him almost every single night since starting here. Just hearing him say my name has me wet now, but it makes my heart beat faster too.

My body and brain aren’t in line. I want him to fuck me, to kiss me, to smile at me and call me his. I want to have a sweet winter morning curled together with him, but I also want him to tear my clothes off me and show me exactly how he could keep me busy all night.

Josh’s eyes smolder in the shade of the trees, as if he’s reading my mind and adding his own revisions. Then he stands up, pats the tree to make sure it’s in place and walks away.

“As hot as he looks, he’s colder than a blizzard, isn’t he?” The woman asks.

I blink a few times, shake my head, then shrug. “He’s not cold, he just has very ... defined boundaries. Some people say that selectiveness is a good thing.”

“What do you say?” She asks with a smirk.

“I say that a seven foot tree will handle all the ornaments you have in mind, especially since you’re celebrating with your son’s fiancée and her family,” I quip, turning the attention back to her.

She ends up buying it and I drag it into place with a sled and sheer determination. I don’t want to need Josh for everything. I know if I ask, he’ll drop everything to help me. I’ll get turned, get distracted, get a little clumsy, and then I’ll be just a problem rather than a help.

I pant and take off my jacket as the woman pays, thanks me again, and heads to her car. I see Tony struggling to get the tree on the roof of her car and hurry to go and help, only for two brown gloved hands to beat me there.

Josh moves against my back and every nerve in my body comes alive. A little gasp leaves my throat as he pulls the straps lower so I can tie this part of the rope to the one I’ve been holding through the back window. I tie quickly, trying not to let my hands linger against Josh’s.

When I freeze, he puts his hands on my hips and pulls me back against him. He’s so warm, so big ... so ... perfect. And maybe I am imagining it, but he seems also so…hard. God, tell me he is hard for me as much as I am wet for him .

Josh pats the car, then lets me go. He lowers his voice, so Tony doesn’t hear. “When I said I was going to protect you, it wasn’t a challenge, Emma.”

I turn around and see him closer than I thought. Every breath I take forces my breasts against him. “I know. You ... you do it well.”

“I do plenty well but I’d rather you be careful,” he says.

I lick over my bottom lip and Josh takes off his coat to wrap it around my shoulders, He adjusts the collared neck, running his fingertips over my throat until my pulse is hammering in my chest.

This kind of immediate attraction, the all-consuming lust I feel for him distracts me from everything. When he shows his playful side, teasing me and captivating me with those rare, gorgeous smiles, I know I’m completely lost in him—it’s more than just lust. I want to show him how happy I could make him, to go to the winter festival by his side. I want to share so much with him, to bask in his presence, to learn everything about him.

“Look at me like that all you want,” he says, his voice an octave lower with a rough edge, “I’m not letting you off the hook for inventory tonight.”

“Yeah, I know,” I reply. “And maybe you’ll show me what’s under all this roughness.”

He arches an eyebrow. “More roughness.”

“Sure. That’s why you always take at least a sip when I bring you hot cocoa,” I tease.

Again, his lips almost turn up, but he shakes his head.

“I’m actually excited to stay later,” I inform. “I like the lights you have strung up. They’re pretty and warm. I like the way they reflect on the snow.”

“Is there anything you don’t like?” Josh snorts, lingering near me even though he doesn’t have any reason to.

I think about it for a moment. “I don’t really like rude people.”

“You tolerate me,” he comments.

I look him over slowly, then meet his churning eyes. “You’re not rude. You’re direct. I appreciate directness.”

He steps closer to me, his eyes heating. “Emma ...”

“What about you? Is there anything you do like?” I ask.

“Being outdoors, finishing difficult projects, the holidays, and ...” he leans towards me for a moment, making my throat tighten. “And getting home before midnight. Let’s take care of inventory so I can make that happen.”

I count one side and Josh counts the other, but every time we meet up, I tease him, turn our counting into a game, and find different ways to flirt. Once we’re back at the front, standing in the gentle yellow light of his hanging bulbs, we give our total and I move closer to him. “You need your jacket back.”

“Do I?”

“You look freezing,” I murmur, stepping closer to him and pulling his sleeves further down. I brush my hand over his shoulder. It’s so broad, so muscular, so tense. I narrow my eyes at his shoulder. “And you’re tense. Do you ever relax, Josh?”

“How should I do that?” he asks, stepping closer.

“There are so many ways. Reading, a bubble bath, sitting by the fire, maybe something ... more,” I whisper, my face burning as I think of all the ways I want to relieve his tension.

“More?” He takes another step forward.

“Yeah, um. You know, there are so many options, positions, um ...ways,” I whisper.

Why do I lose control of my tongue when he’s around? I can’t choke out a coherent sentence when he’s this focused on me.

Josh smirks, his eyes filled with mischief. “Show me.”

I try to force my confidence under his intense stare.

I take his hand, starting to wrap his arm around me, but instead, he pulls me against him and kisses me. It’s not gentle, not soft—it’s a release of every lingering look he’s pinned me with, a swirl of every fantasy that’s filled my head this past week, and a decisive answer to every touch, flirtatious line, and all the innuendo we’ve tried to ignore. And I just want more.

His tongue slicks across mine as he backs me against the main building, growling and groaning into my mouth. I suck his tongue as I melt against him and he bites my bottom lip before gripping my hair tightly, pulling back to feast on me more fully, intensely, hungrily. Oh god, he’s so much better than even the dirtiest fantasy I’ve had. I’m soaking wet, hot all over and desperate to have more than a taste of him.