My Greatest Joy (Maplewood Falls #2)

Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

LEVI

“Ready, set…go!” I throw a tennis ball as far as I can for Dasher.

He runs at full speed toward the pond.

The snowfall has stopped, but the wind still feels like sharp blades cutting against my skin. However, Dasher loves it outside and still needs his exercise.

Plus, it gives me a moment away from Fallon’s delicious death glare and gorgeous face. And those lips that I so desperately want to see form a smile, preferably around my cock.

Every time I’m around her, I prepare for a verbal punch in the gut, and she hasn’t disappointed me yet.

Whatever her problem is, I’m determined to find out why this holiday puts her in such a sour mood. Still, her pouting and dislike for it amuse the hell out of me. She’s trying so hard to be upset, which I know isn’t an ideal situation for either of us, but she’s succeeded at taking it to the next level. The difference is I’m making the best out of it while I can.

Before I stepped outside, I got fully dressed and put on my winter boots. Now that I’ve been running around with Dasher and throwing his ball, I’m sweating.

When I finally coax Dasher to come inside, I refill his water bowl, then head upstairs to shower.

As soon as I walk into the bathroom and see Fallon soaking in my tub, I come to a stop.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Her eyes blink open as she sinks deeper under the suds. But I already saw the tops of her breasts before I spoke.

“I thought you’d be outside for longer. Just wanted to relax and warm up.”

“That costs extra. Should I add it to your tab?”

She groans with an eye roll. “Very funny.”

I shrug, yanking my shirt over my head and kicking off my boots. Then I unbutton my jeans.

“What are you doing?” Her voice wavers as her gaze lowers down my body.

“I came to take a shower. Dasher made me chase him around the yard before he’d come to the door.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“It’s my house. Don’t look if you’re shy.”

“I’m not…” She stops herself as I lower my pants, then my boxers.

I glance over as I turn on the water and catch her staring. She quickly averts her eyes, but I see the way she’s looking.

For someone dead set on being miserable, she’s not as good at acting as she thinks. I’ve had my fair share of women in my thirty-five years and can typically read them quite well.

Figuring out Fallon has become a fun new challenge.

“Can you at least turn around so I can get out, then?” she asks, draining the tub.

“Trust me, sweetheart. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”

She scoffs as I focus on her every step. Once she wraps a towel around her, she eagerly walks out, slamming the bathroom door behind her. Chuckling to myself, I lather soap over my body, then rinse off.

Fallon opts to skip lunch by ignoring me when I knock on her door, so she’s starving by the time it’s dark out.

She looks pitiful in her triple layers of clothes even though the roaring fire has heated the entire floor. So much that I’m sweating in athletic shorts and a T-shirt.

“Do you eat chicken?” I call out from the kitchen while she sits on the couch. She found a few books in my office and has been reading next to the kerosene lamp for the past few hours.

Though I assume out of pure boredom because they’re all historical fiction. Fallon doesn’t seem like the type to read anything that isn’t about modern-day fashion or celebrity memoirs.

“Yes,” she answers wearily.

“So you’re not a vegetarian?” I ask.

“No.”

“Interesting.”

“Why’s that?”

“You eat chicken but not pork,” I reply, and her head whips around to face me.

“How’d you know that?”

“You’re more transparent than you realize.” I smirk. “And not as sly as you think.”

Fallon frowns, biting the inside of her cheek.

“Pork is poisonous to dogs,” I tell her. “You could’ve killed him. Good thing I had meds so he’d puke it up.”

“What?” The color drains from her face as I move around the kitchen, holding back the urge to laugh. Fuck, she’s cute when she’s gullible.

She looks around for Dasher as if she’s truly worried, and guilt floods me for making her panic.

“Fallon.” My deep timbre grabs her attention. “I’m kidding.”

“Goddamn you!” She stands and stomps over, then throws her fist against my shoulder. “That was mean .”

I snicker at her attempt to hurt me. “I’m sorry. You make it too easy to rile you up.”

She stands in front of me with her arms crossed, pouting as she narrows her eyes in anger.

“I think you like him more than you want to admit,” I taunt.

“No,” she quickly responds. “I don’t want a dog’s death on my hands. That can’t be good karma.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you don’t eat pork? You don’t have to sneak around, Fallon. You aren’t going to hurt my feelings because of something I made. My ego isn’t that fragile.”

“I didn’t want to seem ungrateful,” she says timidly. “Plus, it’s not like you asked if I even wanted an omelet, so I accepted what you made.”

“Fair enough. But from now on, say something, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Chicken fettuccini, do you like that?”

“I try to avoid pasta, but considering the circumstances, I’ll eat some while I’m here.”

“What in the world do you even eat in Seattle? Tofu?”

“For your information, I have a gluten allergy, which is why I limit my pasta intake. It’s not because I deprive myself of carbs. You’ve seen my thighs. Do you think I’m a health nut? If I have it, I’ll be uncomfortable and bloated.”

At the mention of her luscious legs, I imagine kneeling between them and licking her pussy until she explodes all over my tongue. Her body confidence is as sexy as her curvy hips.

Quickly shaking away the thoughts of her sitting on my face, I nod. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.”

“I’ll have a little. It sounds good,” she replies, no longer shooting daggers at me.

“Okay, it’ll be ready in a half hour. Think you can make it until then?” I smirk when her stomach growls.

“I hope so.”

“You wanna help? I’ll cook the chicken if you want to start on the sauce.”

“Do you have a recipe for me to follow?” She looks truly concerned that she’ll fuck it up.

I tap my temple. “All up here, babe. I’ll walk you through it.”

For the next thirty minutes, we work side by side. She mixes and stirs the ingredients in a pot while I cut and sauté the chicken.

As the sauce simmers, I guide her through boiling the pasta. While she does that, I grab some plates and make our drinks.

“My stomach is going to eat itself soon,” she whines, inhaling the scent of our food.

I laugh, enjoying this side of her. She hasn’t glared at me once since we started cooking.

Once the sauce is done, I add in the chicken and let it marinate for a few minutes before she makes a plate. As soon as Fallon makes it to the table, she digs in.

“This sauce is so good.” She moans around a piece of chicken, and I have to adjust myself as I sit across from her.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” I tease since she technically made it.

“Don’t be rude now,” she quips.

“Me? Look who’s talking. I’m the nicest guy you’ll ever meet.”

She snorts, devouring her food. “Like I haven’t heard that one before.”

“Yeah, but I’m not like other guys.”

“Oh really? Give me your exes’ numbers, and I’ll find out for sure.”

I raise a brow. “Oh, we’re having the exes talk already? Wow, you do move fast.”

“Why are you so surprised? We’re already living together.” She scoops a forkful of food and devours it like she hasn’t eaten in days.

I bark out a laugh. This flirty banter is something I haven’t seen from her, and my cock likes it— a lot .

Maybe the key is keeping her fed. Perhaps she’s been hangry this whole time.

One can dream.

“How many exes are there?” she blurts out.

“So we are having this discussion?”

“Sure, why not? Unless there’s been a lot, and you can’t count that high?”

I scratch my cheek in amusement, shoveling more pasta into my mouth as I pick my next words carefully.

“I haven’t had… relationships , per se. Not sure they can be considered an ex if it wasn’t ever serious.”

“ Oh , I get it now.”

I eye her curiously. “What?”

“You’re a fuck boy.”

Her bluntness has me smirking. “I’m too old to be considered a fuck boy. I date women to see if we’re a good match, and none have worked out long-term.”

“Fine, fuck man .” She shrugs, taking a bite of chicken and moaning. “Serial dater who’s too afraid to settle down or commit—like every other man in this world. I’m sure you had no problem sleeping with them first before deciding they weren’t the one .”

“Sounds like you have me all figured out.”

“Don’t tell me I’ve hurt your feelings?”

“Yep, I’m gonna cry myself to sleep tonight.”

She rolls her eyes as I crack a smile.

“I doubt you’ve ever cried over a woman in your life.”

Jesus Christ . Says the one who’s currently giving me emotional whiplash.

“Do you want more water?” I ask.

She furrows her brow at my abrupt subject change.

“Or should we talk about your dating history now?” I taunt.

“Absolutely not.”

“I can’t imagine why you’d have relationship issues,” I say dryly, earning me a scowl. “With you being so pleasant and sweet, it’s a mystery to me.”

“Are you done?”

Her resting bitch face has me fighting back a smile because she’s a natural.

“Dessert?” I ask, grabbing my plate and bringing it to the sink.

“Depends. Does it come with your sarcasm and bad jokes? Because if so, I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself. Thirty-eight women think my jokes are fuck-worthy .”

Her eyes widen in horror as she nearly chokes on her pasta. “Total or… this year ?”

Instead of answering her, I grab a fudge pop from the freezer, then shoot her a wink.

I’ll let Judge Judy overthink that one for a bit.

Fallon clearly has some serious past relationship trauma that she’s externalizing onto me for the simple fact that I have a dick. She acts like every guy is out to hurt her, and if that’s the case, I’ll tread lightly. I want her to feel comfortable enough to drop the act and, eventually, her guard. Her brick walls are tall and built to withstand a Category 5 hurricane.

I’d like her to trust me and know I only have good intentions.

And in order to do that, she’ll need to open up.

After dinner, we go our separate ways. She curls up on the couch, and Dasher, the traitorous shit, stays down with her while I go upstairs. It’s pitch-black in my room, but I know every inch of my house like the back of my hand. But since Fallon doesn’t, I make sure to leave a flashlight on the coffee table so she can find her way to the bathroom.

I strip down to my boxers and slide under the covers, hoping the power and phone service will return tomorrow.

Since the storm has fully passed, the state snowplows should be out to clear the roads for the lineman. As long as the wind stays calm, I’ll be able to clear the driveway so we can get out of the house. I’m ready to go back to the farm and show my favorite Ebenezer Scrooge around town.

I fall asleep with thoughts of Fallon on my mind, but when I wake to her soft voice, my first thought is that I’m dreaming .

“Levi,” she repeats my name, shaking my arm.

“What is it?” I murmur.

“The fire needs more wood, and there’s none left in the house,” she tells me.

“How’s that possible?” I turn toward her with half-opened eyes.

“I don’t know. It’s been burning for three days straight. Can you grab some more?”

“It’s the middle of the night, Fallon. I’ll do it first thing in the morning.”

“But I’m freezing my ass off now. What do you expect me to do until then?”

I roll over and pull back the covers. “Get in.”

“What?”

“I’ll give you my body heat so you won’t freeze to death.”

My eyes adjust to the dark, and I see she’s wrapped tightly in her blanket.

“How are you only wearing shorts?”

“The cold doesn’t bother me, Fallon. You climbing in or what?”

“I guess you leave me no choice,” she mutters bitterly, and I stifle a laugh.

There’s the Fallon I know.

“You’re welcome to take off your clothes, too.”

“Oh my God, you’re a creep.” She whacks my chest.

“Jesus Christ, woman. Do you know any survival skills?”

“Huh?” She pulls the covers up and snuggles underneath.

“Skin-to-skin contact helps regulate temperature so you warm up faster than you do wearing clothes,” I explain.

“Oh, well…no, thanks. I’m good.”

“Okay, but if your razor blade nipples cut me, I’m suing.”

The back of her hand finds my chest again, and I snicker.

“You sure you want to sleep next to a fuck boy?” I tease, throwing her own words at her.

“You gonna cry if I say no?”

This time I bellow out a laugh.

“You wound me, Fallon Joy .”

“Oh, please. By your extensive condom collection, I doubt a woman has ever hurt your feelings.”

“You went through my drawers, did ya?” I ask with amusement.

“That was before when I was unpacking some of my things. There were so many, I figured it was a perk for the renters or something. Didn’t realize it was all for one lumberjack of a person.”

“Careful. You sound jealous.”

She scoffs. “You wish . Now stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine.”

“The whole bed is my side.”

“Unless you want a knee to the dick, you’ll stay over there.”

I chuckle. “Good night, Little Miss Seattle.”