Page 28 of Christmas in Coconut Creek

Thankfully wedidown a staple gun. And a few long orange extension cords that came in handy as I reluctantly climbed a ladder to the tallest point of the house while Mateo coached me across the gutters from below.

The women made a show of pulling a couple lawn chairs out of the garage and setting up camp in the driveway, watching the shitshow unfold. Me, sweating like a greased pig and focusing on not putting a staple through my fingers, and Mateo, getting more frustrated by the minute trying to un-fuck the tangled lights and feed them up to me.

By some godly entity they were in place by the time the daylight decided to start creeping below the horizon—leaving just enough time for Ophelia to add some finishing touches while Cap and I sulked inside to clean up for dinner.

“We’retheonlyhouseon the block with this many lights up. We’re running more electricity than the casino,” Mateo mused around a slice of pizza as he ate it over the box.

“But it looks amazing,” Tally complimented. “It’s so homey and warm in here now. Doesn’t it make you so much more excited for Christmas?”

Music played idly and a cranberry-orange candle burned in the middle of the coffee table.

It did look amazing.

Our house was nice on its own, but with these classy touches of festive decor it really felt like a place where we could relax and enjoy the season. The sun had long set on the day, and from outside, the hue of bright lights poured in through the windows and circled the wreath on the door.

“Let’s see how the lights look in the dark,” Ophelia suggested. “I have a surprise for you guys.”

Tally pulled Mateo by his arm out the front door while Cap’s grumbling voice complained the entire way. I hung out in the little arch between the kitchen and the foyer waiting for Ophelia to dry the last of the sink water from her hands on theusablekitchen towels before she joined me.

“The house looks great, O.”

Her cheeks flushed. She had to know it looked good, because I wasn’t being facetious at all. I’d genuinely forgotten the magic of the holidays until that very moment, staring out at my candle-lit living room under the golden blanket of light. It wasn’t like Mateo and I didn’t celebrate, but we weren’t the types to decorate on our own. Up until a few years ago most of our Christmases were spent on a deployment somewhere, and it had always been secondary on account of it. But this… This was nice.

“Thank you.” She smiled up at me. Her eyes were crystal blue, but that close I found yellow in them. Sunshine in the sky.

There was a singular part of me that knew I was fucked at that very moment. Comparing a woman’s eyes to the goddamn sky. Most of me, though, was in complete denial. All I knew was that I wanted to kiss her. Which was a very normal, healthy, biological reaction to a beautiful girl looking up at you like an innocent little doe. Wasn’t it?

Fuck, I was going to kiss her.

I had to know if I was reading things wrong.

Just a kiss. If she rejected me, then that was that. We could have a very friendly, PG Christmas, and I could move on to the next dead-end dating app that Mateo found to haggle me about.

It was like the fat man himself was rooting for me when I glanced up and to find a mistletoe hanging from the archway. Surely Ophelia didn’t intentionally meet me underneath it.

“How’d that get there?” I pointed toward the hanging leaves.

Her attention flitted upward, eyes narrowing. Another creeping flood of blush pinkened her fair skin, but she didn’t react negatively. In fact, that bright gaze drifted down to my mouth after a moment before leveling with me again. I still saw the ample curiosity in it, no matter how fleeting the moment.

I wanted to know exactly what Ophelia tasted like so badly, it almost fucking hurt. Was she tender? Would she wind her arms around my neck, or hold my face? Would she tease with her tongue or leave the pace up to me? I wanted to know these things the same way I wanted to know why, despite all, I was harboring this grade-school crush on a woman so inconveniently unavailable to me.

“You’re always up to something,” she murmured.

That mistletoe had nothing to do with me, but I’d let her believe it. “And you’re always just out of my reach.” She darted her eyes away. Self-conscious, embarrassed, nervous—who cared. I wanted her to look at me again, and I didn’t want to wait. “Ophelia.”

The second her chin lifted I leaned down and cut whatever string of words she was about to say in half with a sweet press of my lips to hers. It blindsided her. Our eyes were slow to shut, but when they did, the rest of her opened up. It was like the warm buzz of a first sip of whiskey, the kind that tempted you into drinking a whole lot more. Her body pressed to mine. My hand tangled in her hair. With little coaxing, Ophelia tilted her head to better reach me, dragging a curious palm up my neck that settled on my jaw as she slid her tongue against the seam of my lips, asking to be let in.

Gotcha, baby.

I was on the verge of giving her exactly what she was asking for. I’d have gladly swept that sweet ass right up and made a night out of getting her naked down the hallway behind closed doors. But that was too much, too fast, and this was just testing the waters. I wanted her, but I wanted her to wantmemore. If not because that kind of shit made me hot—because then I wasn’t the only one in danger of getting too involved. As selfish as it was.

Instead I pulled away, eyes remaining closed for a prolonged second with our foreheads connected. “Easy.” I smirked. “Don’t let me catch you slipping, O. Wouldn’t want me getting any ideas now.”

She hummed in response, recognizing she’d let those ice-cold walls down at my first touch, but hardly caring in the moment. “Definitely not.”

“Let’s get outside, Trouble.” I pulled her along behind me and whisked us out the door.

“All right, what’s this big surprise?” Mateo asked impatiently as we congregated in the driveway. I stood skeptically beside my roommate and his girlfriend, analyzing O’s expressions under the glowing Christmas lights.

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