Page 26 of The Christmas Cover Rule
“Ooo. Tight glutes.” Her rough hands glide under my towel, and that’s enough for me.
I swing my legs over the edge. “Thank you,” I say, sitting upright. “Thank you, but I’m done.”
“Done?”
“Yes. Done. I’m all relaxed now. No more.”
Her face never moves, only continues to scowl at me, and I nod, holding my hand to the door, encouraging her to leave. Thankfully, she grabs her bag and heads to leave. “I’ll come clean up when Mrs. Jonas is done.”
My cheeks fill with air before I deflate them and look back over to Stella, whois now sitting up.
It takes less than three seconds for her to fold over, and tears begin spilling out of her eyes.
STELLA
The table is set, the carols are playing, and now I just need my fuzzy socks. I make my way to the closet and begin digging through my suitcase that I’ve been living out of for three days, when the bathroom door opens. Jonas stands in the doorframe in nothing but a towel that hangs so low, his thick V cut is like a beacon for my eyes.
“Hi,” I say stupidly.
“Stella.” His voice is like gravel, and everything twists inside me when he says my name.
“I, uh…I set up a gingerbread decorating station for us,” I say, holding my hands out like Vanna White.
He follows behind me while throwing on another graphic T-shirt. This one is an oversized white shirt with Japanese writing down the back, and just from looking at it, I can tell it’s thick, which is not surprising. I’ve learned Jonas is a man who likes nice things, so nice that even his T-shirts are high quality.
After pulling his briefs on under his towel, he lets it drop, and I try to avert my eyes, but his leg, covered in some of the most beautiful art I’ve ever seen, draws my attention right back. Intricate dragon scales, tropical flowers, leaves, and an unbelievably technical mandala cover the entirety of his leg. He covers the top half of his sleeve when he steps into some shorts, and it’s enough for me to give a sharp shake of my head and focus back on the table in front of me.
“What do we have?” he asks, sitting down beside me. I pick up one of the gingerbread men, look at Jonas, and now I know I’m in deep becausefuck, even the way he sits is turning me on. Just casually bending forward with his elbows on hisknees, but it’s giving a clear view of how broad his shoulders actually are, and I start to imagine him holding himself above me, while my fingers rake down the long planes of muscles along his back.
“Stell?”
“Sorry.” My voice cracks, and I clear it. “Okay, so this one is for you,” I say, handing the cookie to him. “I’m going to do this guy here, and we’re going to make each other in gingerbread form. You’ve got your frosting, your candies, and when we’re done, we’ll see who made the other the best.”
Jonas reaches for the red frosting first, with a look of determination on his face. I turn up the volume on the remote, lettingWonderful Chritmastimeplay through the room and get to work.
When I’m done, I lean back, not looking at Jonas’s work. I pick at the M&Ms on the table as the minutes pass, and when Jonas says he’s almost done, I realize fifteen minutes have passed, and neither of us has said anything. It hasn’t been an awkward silence, but rather a comforting one. I’ve noticed that whether it’s quiet glances, silent touches, or just being beside one another, being with Jonas is easy. I never feel like I need to explain myself or fill the void with unnecessary chatter.
“I might have to add professional cookie decorator to my resume.” Jonas beams, dusting glitter sprinkles from his hands. “You ready?”
I bite my top lip, suppressing the giggle I want to let out over his excitement, and hold my hands out.
A little brown gingerbread girl, wearing a red bikini, sits in my hand. Pieces of black licorice hang from her head, and tiny yellow candies cover her hands and neck. “Oh my god, you even got my jewelry right.” I cover my gaping mouth in awe.
“Alright, let’s see mine.”
I tentatively hand him the cookie, and he barks out a laugh. “Why am I only wearing underwear?”
“Those are your shorts!”
He falls back onto the couch, clutching his stomach.
“But look at your smile.” I point to the wide cartoon-like grin, but he doesn’t stop laughing for a full minute.
After digging through my suitcase,I finally find my socks and make my way over to the bed. Jonas pats the spot next to him, reminiscent of how he did on our first night together, and I climb up beside him.
“Nice socks.”
I look down at my feet and rub them together before grabbing the remote. “It’s to set the vibe.”
