When in December (Home Haven #1)

Chapter 17

seventeen

. . .

Poppy

This isn’t happening.

I’d said it more than once in the past few days. But this time, I meant it more than ever before.

This cannot be happening.

But it oh-so clearly was.

Just like that, Aaron Hayes was kissing me.

Again.

This time was so different from the last kiss, when he had been slightly drunk and I was not. Now, we both tasted like the bubbly bottled beer, which I normally hated, but currently, I felt like it was everything I’d ever wanted and more. Shifting forward, he angled his lips over mine to take the kiss deeper. His hand cupped the other side of my face, keeping me still for his mouth to continue its delicate exploration.

I was all too willing to give him full access. Through my lashes, I watched the way his lips parted and slid over my mine, heavy with want. But I wouldn’t miss this, not for a second.

Aaron Hayes is kissing me. This is real. This is happening.

And I realized it might’ve been one of the things I’d wanted so deeply for far too long.

Aaron let his mouth trail down toward my neck, skimming over the sensitive skin there before he pulled back. There was a single moment, giving us each a breath, before another kiss came down again—less teeth, more tongue.

He lavished me with this kiss, and I didn’t want to break away.

I didn’t want this to end. Once it did, I knew all too well that everything up to this point could all come crashing down. It would be just like it had been when I was in high school. Everything and then nothing. A grand reveal, only to feel like a certain spot in my chest was being yanked out and crumpled up.

Like it would with my plans for this stupid cabin, which was also now becoming one of my favorite places to be.

But it would end. It had to.

Did it have to?

Common sense taking over, I shoved him back. Or maybe he shoved me back—gently.

It didn’t matter so long as the kiss ended quickly.

Maybe not as quickly as it should’ve.

“We shouldn’t,” I gasped, trying to be quiet. It was only us in the room though, not another sound other than the heat kicking on.

“Did I make a mistake?”

“No. Don’t worry; you didn’t make another mistake,” I said.

This one was all on me.

It was all on me and yet …

Aaron pulled back as he looked down at me. “Another …”

My chest heaved forward, back arching, as if I could make it the rest of the way back to his mouth.

I wasn’t ready to let go yet.

Aaron’s brow creased with confusion.

“Poppy …” He said my name. A little strong. A little surer.

He didn’t call me homemaker or the bane of his existence. Not even teasingly, like the way he whispered the name Snow Angel—angel coming out like his last breath escaping his lungs, breathless for me.

“Poppy.”

Were my lips that memorable? They couldn’t be. They were just lips. Pink and a little chapped from being outside in the cold.

I couldn’t help it. I reached to touch them. Aaron watched me closely as I ran my fingertips along the bottom. They were damp and swollen compared to before.

Before Aaron kissed me.

And I didn’t want to let go.

Dropping my hands, I slid them up Aaron’s arms. They felt amazing. He felt amazing. I didn’t know if they were so toned because he had been helping me work and carry things all week or if they always had been and I was noticing because I was finally touching him, feeling the smooth blond hair over his forearms and higher, around the curve of his biceps.

When I traced up the side of his shoulder, Aaron was still staring at me. Waiting.

Honestly, so was I.

You know what? Maybe he was right. Professionalism? I really couldn’t see its virtues. I could barely see my own.

My hand cupped the back of his neck, and suddenly, there was no longer any hesitation. His mouth was back on mine. I hauled him as close as I could get him.

Where I was timid, Aaron didn’t hesitate. My hands glided over his neck and all through his hair, messing up any sort of effort that he’d put into it. He shifted himself further toward me, moving the couch that didn’t creak. It was good stuff, durable yet classy. I’d chosen it for that reason. I hadn’t chosen it for this, but everything was multiuse in the cabin.

I thought my nervous system might overload from all the sensations I was feeling right now. His hips were heavy against mine, and his chest was pressed flat on me. When I leaned my chin forward for a little more, a sound emanated from the back of his throat—a moan that rattled my bones—as he deepened the kiss.

I had never heard Aaron Hayes like this. Not in his laughter. Not in his glares. Not in his anger.

This was pure want and pent-up desire.

I’d never wanted anything more. At least, not that I could think of when he was holding me, kissing me.

The only thing I could think of was, Please don’t ever let this be over.

There was no space between us to spare for any other worry or anxiety that usually coursed through my head.

Aaron moved with a peck at the corner of my lips until he was peppering my jaw with tiny, wet kisses. His mouth trailed over my jaw and under my ear, continuing what he’d teased at before. I gasped, and his hands slipped to my hips, pulling mine against his.

“You look so good in my shirt,” he murmured huskily and almost a little mischievously.

For a second, he almost sounded like the Aaron I’d once overheard with his friends. Only he was older now, and I couldn’t help but think that maybe I liked Aaron better now than the one I’d held like a tightly kept secret in the corner of my mind. I liked his messiness he used to hide behind the golden boy persona. I liked the gruffness, surrounded by edges so sharp that I sometimes questioned whether I’d cut myself if I got too close.

All of him.

I cried out against his mouth from how much I suddenly wanted. Heat grew under the thick knit blanket that was tangled over us, making everything even hotter until I was sure I was about to break into a sweat from our feverish touches.

“Shh,” Aaron warned me, breathless. “God, why do you have to be so sexy?”

I had never been called sexy before in my life. Not ever. The idea of it made me bold.

I slid my hand up his shirt, feeling his muscles contract. I could feel the scars and puckered skin I had seen from a distance before. Aaron’s hands held me tight, gripping me against him. He pulled away again for air and came right back, as if he needed me to breathe as much as I felt like I needed him right now.

For so long, I’d been alone. Going from project to project. Working and combating problems, like mold or unruly clients. But now, like that night years ago, on top of a pile of coats, when I’d first kissed the boy that I convinced myself I was madly in love with at the age of fifteen, I never felt less alone.

But he hadn’t known that. He still didn’t know.

Something in my chest yanked hard, and it wasn’t from the lack of air.

When we pulled away the next time, my nose grazed his. Our eyes flickered toward each other’s and then back down to our damp, swollen lips. Mine parted, but not to kiss or quietly beg him for more.

Should I tell him?

I swallowed. What was the point? This was just a kiss. This was just a little more than a kiss. But that was all. That was all it could ever be. Right?

He was still going to leave. I was still going to be done with this project and?—

Aaron’s hands loosened from around my waist, sliding over my hips until he released me altogether.

Our breaths were deeper as I stared at him. He stared back at me, though the room seemed even darker than before. It was kind of perfect. The room. The scent of gingerbread. Him.

Aaron’s eyes started to close. I couldn’t tell if he forced them to or if they were simply too heavy to remain open any longer.

“You’re pretty good with them too, you know,” I whispered.

His eyes opened again, blinking a few times until he seemed sure that I’d said anything at all. “Huh?”

“The kids,” I clarified softly. “I think you’re good with them whether you realize it. I think you could be a pretty amazing uncle. You’re … you’re doing great. You’re a good man.”

And it was quiet again.

“Good night, Poppy.”

My chest was still heaving as I nodded repeatedly.

“Good night, Aaron,” I whispered.