Page 39 of Holiday Star
I want him.
In a way that I haven’t wanted anyone in a very long time.
We stay like that, kissing in the car like teenagers, for another fifteen minutes before we finally pull apart. I’m panting, staring glassy-eyed at him in the glow of the streetlights.
“We should probably go inside.” His chest is heaving the same way that mine is.
Hoping that he means go inside and make out some more, I’m highly disappointed when Caleb stops at the bottom of the stairs. He gives me one last panty-melting kiss before he says goodnight and walks away.
23
The next morning a bleary-eyed Caleb is in the kitchen when I come down. He’s shirtless, muscles on full display, a dusting of freckles across his shoulders.
I’ve seen him with his shirt off before, when he swims or comes out of the shower, so it shouldn’t distract me like it does, but now all I can think of is how I touched that firm chest through his shirt last night. How I bunched the fabric in my hands as I pressed my lips to his and slid my tongue into his mouth.
I’m so busy staring at his body that it takes me a minute to notice the mug of coffee that he wordlessly holds out to me. With a start, I grab it and watch as he carries his cup of tea over to sit at the puzzle-covered table.
I hang back, not quite sure if I should join him. I’m worried things will be awkward between us. What if he regrets kissing me? What if he wants to leave now that we’ve crossed that invisible divide between being friends to…I don’t know what we are.
It was easy to be brave in the heat of the moment, in the darkness of that cheap dive bar, in the dim of the car, but my courage is nowhere to be seen in the light of this sun-splashed kitchen.
Before I can decide if I should sit or stand, a loud banging comes from the front door. “Open up,” someone yells and then kicks the door, making it rattle in its frame. “I need some help out here.”
Caleb and I both go to answer. When the door opens, Jenny’s there, bowed under the weight of an enormous Christmas tree. Twigs and pine needles are caught in her hair and sweater.
“Jenny!” I exclaim. “What is this?”
She snorts, unladylike. “You need to get your eyes checked, Gwendolen. It’s obviously a Christmas tree. One that I got for you. Surprise!” She takes a few steps forward, lugging the tree after her.
A snigger next to me. I turn to see Caleb’s amused smirk. “Gwendolen?” he whispers and raises a taunting eyebrow.
“What did you think Gwen was short for?” I hiss back, already feeling off balance with him this morning.
“I’m not sure, but it definitely wasn’t Gwendolen.” He chuckles as he moves forward to help Jenny.
With her at one end and him at the other, they drag the tree into the house. I scurry ahead of them, moving chairs and books out of the way to clear a path.
Once we place the tree on its side in front of the fireplace, Jenny turns to look at us. Her gaze examines each of us and then moves to the couch where Caleb’s pillow and blankets lay in a jumbled heap with Pip sleeping on top of them.
It’s obvious that he slept there last night.
Alone.
Jenny shoots me a disappointed glare, which I shrug off. Her sharp eyes sweep over to Caleb. “You look like crap this morning,” she tells him, heading into the kitchen to grab herself a cup of coffee.
Caleb runs a hand through his thick golden hair. His eyes shift to me, heating my skin everywhere they touch. Voice rough, he says, “I couldn’t sleep last night.”
Please. Please let me be the reason for his sleeplessness.
If that’s the case, he wasn’t alone. I laid awake for eons last night. The master bed had felt much too big, while, conversely, the room had felt much too small. My window was lightening with dawn by the time my eyes finally dropped closed.
Jenny paws through the cupboards, looking for something to eat.
Caleb yawns, stretches, and scratches his bare chest. Every motion makes those muscles and that tan skin shift in ways that are almost erotic. I stare, breathless, my body filled with yearning. I’m aching for him. I want to run my hands over every inch of his flesh, followed by my mouth. I want to feel that sweat-slicked skin gliding over mine. I want him all around me, in me. I swallow thickly, trying to get hold of my raging desire.
Oblivious, he blinks sleepily. “I’m going to go take a quick shower. Don’t start on the tree without me.”
Great, now I’m picturing him naked in the shower.
