Page 63 of Say It Isn't Snow
Holly
Longest day ever is over. I got so much done! Time for fuzzy slippers.
Caleb
I’m proud of you, sugar. Sounds like you’ve earned a massage.
Holly
Oh my god, that sounds so nice. A massage might bring me back to life right now.
Caleb
You don’t have to ask. My hands are all yours.
Holly
I’m going up to my apartment to take a shower, but I’ll call you after if you’re not asleep yet.
When I exit into the alley behind the block of shops, I halt in my tracks.
Caleb’s crouched to pet one of the cats Marjorie, the bookstore owner, feeds. He tilts his head and gives me a charming dimpled smile.
“Hi beautiful,” he murmurs.
“Wait—I thought you went back to your hotel after touring the practice rink for the Mavs.” I glance from my phone to him. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you. I came to make sure you get home safe.”
A warm glow fills me from within at his heartfelt tone and expression.
“I don’t have far to go. You want to walk me upstairs?” I tease.
“I want you,” he replies.
I can’t help the grin that breaks free when he gathers me in his strong arms and presses me against the building for a sweeping kiss.
All my stress melts away once I’m in his embrace. I worry too much when I’m left to my own thoughts, but when he holds me I no longer feel the weight of everything I carry.
I sigh, grazing my nose against his. “I don’t do well with surprises from others. But from my boyfriend? I understand the appeal.”
“Call me your boyfriend again. I like the sound of it,” he rasps.
I suppress a shiver. “I think I like having you waiting for me after work.”
“Yeah? That’s good. You should get used to it.” His lips brush mine again.
“Ah, but if I do, how will I survive without it when you’re on the road for away games?” I wrap my arms around his shoulders. “Cake. Cake makes everything better. And I suppose I have my vibrator to keep me company whenever you’re gone.”
He buries his face in my neck with a smoky rumble. “I’m going to buy you one of those ones for couples to use over long distances. It doesn’t matter where I am, I’ll always make you come.”
I bite my lip, tipping my head back to give him better access. My breath hitches as his hands wander beneath my sweater. Since I live above the shop, I don’t bother with a coat.
“If you don’t take me home, we’re going to scandalize the other shopkeepers and Marjorie’s cat army,” I warn.
“You’re too hard to resist,” he protests against my skin.
I giggle, pushing against his chest. He straightens, cupping my cheek and flashing me a wry tilt of his mouth.
