Page 29 of Hooked

The tension is unbearable. His name escapes my lips in a quiet murmur.

He curses under his breath, leans down, and kisses me. It’s gentle and sweet, and I part my lips, caressing his tongue with mine. His beard is rough against my cheek, but perfectly so, and he sweeps his thumbs over my jaw and back into my hair. He pulls away and runs a knuckle down my temple.

The tenderness of his touch surprises and delights me.

“You’re shaking,” he says, smiling softly. “You hungry?”

I am. Though not in the way he means.

“I’d cook us something,” he continues, “but I lost power the other night.”

Finally, something I could do for him. I’d grill Danny about what he likes and doesn’t like and replace his stock.

“I hear you’re a fabulous cook.” My stupid grin refuses to leave my face.

“I do okay. Pizza?”

He gestures for me to walk ahead of him. His hand slides down my back as I pass, momentarily grazing my ass. It could have been a mistake, but I hope it wasn’t.

I hope none of this is.

12

Vinny

“I’ve never gone Christmas tree shopping before.”

Sia gasps like no one has ever suffered so cruelly in the history of humankind. A few days ago, I would’ve counted it as evidence of her superficiality. I’m a little embarrassed at my former self. She’s not superficial.

She’s lonely and creates shiny spaces to bring people in, like a magpie decorating its nest.

It’s not how I’d deal with loneliness, but I don’t blame her for trying.

“You’re going to have to tell me what to look for,” I say as we pull up to the local Boy Scout troop’s pop-up tree stand.

You’d think there’d be slim pickings since Christmas Eve is two days away, but there’s a surprising number of trees left. A little farm stand sits nearby, and I know we’re going to have to visit that as well. Sia’s eyes had lit up, and she’d grabbed my arm before self-consciously pulling back.

Before we leave my truck, I ask if she learned how to choose trees from her parents.

She stiffens, but only for a moment. Doesn’t stop me from noticing, though.

“No,” she says. “I used to go with Kieran’s family.” She lets out a little laugh. “The first time we went I think I was around seven? It was the first time my folks had left me by myself so they could take their annual vacation. They’d told me Murphy was going to pick me up, but I found out later that they’d forgotten to ask him. I didn’t know what to do, so I just watched Christmas movies until I fell asleep. The next morning was Christmas Eve. The entire Doyle clan showed up at my house because Kieran had accidentally set their tree on fire, and they were going to pick out a new one and thought I’d enjoy going along.”

I want to ask about how Kieran managed to do that but now isn’t the time. Sia very rarely talks about herself in a substantive way, and this is answering some of the questions I’ve had.

“Murphy asked where my folks were, and I said Mexico. You know when you’re a kid, and you know an adult is absolutely furious? And it’s not like they’re yelling or anything, but there’s just something in their posture that clues you in?”

I nod, and she cringes.

“Of course you do. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be such an idiot. It’s just.” She pauses.

It’s just that she’s not used to sharing this part of her. And I understand that too.

“You’re not an idiot,” I say. “Kieran’s an idiot for setting the tree on fire.”

She laughs, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. She’s still looking at me like she’s betrayed me in some huge way by exposing her pain.

Like how Danny told her she’d betrayed Drew by not dying with him?

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