Page 9 of Decking the Halls
“Wren, we’re in a parking lot.”
“With tinted windows. Back corner. Nobody cares.” My voice drops. “Come here.”
After a long beat, she unbuckles and slides across the bench seat. The heat between us is instant. Skin to skin through layers of clothing, her thigh pressed to mine. I tilt her chin up, searching her eyes.
The first kiss is tentative, then catches fire. She’s flavored with caramel-infused coffee and a lingering, desperate need for recognition. When she sighs into my mouth, it travels all the way to my fingertips.
“I shouldn’t want this,” she whispers against my lips.
“Then don’t think,” I murmur.
Her hands find my shoulders. Mine settles at her waist. The sweater beneath my palms is soft, her body softer. I findthe hem, slipping underneath to touch warm, bare skin. She trembles.
“Tell me if you need me to stop.”
“I won’t.” Her breath hitches. “Not right now.”
I kiss her again. Slower, deeper. My thumb searches just above her waistband, teasing. The fog outside thickens until we’re invisible. The truck becomes its own world, with blurred windows, ragged breathing, and the faint percussion of returning rain.
She makes a small sound when my fingers slide higher, finding the edge of her bra.“Wren…”
“I know.” I press a kiss beneath her ear. “You don’t have to say a word.”
She arches toward me anyway. I cup her through the lace, feeling her heartbeat against my palm. The moment stretches until I no longer know if it’s today or yesterday.
Then she giggles, embarrassed. “We’re going to scandalize the town if anyone walks by.”
“Let them be scandalized,” I say, grinning against her throat. “The Bay Area could use a good story.”
Her laugh dissolves into a sigh when I nip lightly at her pulse point. My hand drifts down her ribs, over her stomach, to rest at her hip. She trembles, but she doesn’t pull away.
I want her. But what I want more is the look in her eyes. The one that I could fall so easily into if Ijust stop thinkingand get back to doing what I do best. Like… doing. God, yes. I’m a doer. Not a thinker. If I were to ever divide my brother and me with something besides gender, it would be that.
Thinking is a waste of time. Thinking causes problems. If more people acted without overthinking, the world would be a better, more righteous place.
“Edie,” I whisper, “I’m not going to rush this. You hear me? I’ve wanted you for too long to screw it up by going too fast.”
She nods, breathless. “I don’t want to stop. I just… want to remember it. Have something to savor, you know?”
“Then we’ll remember every second.” I kiss her once more, lingering as long as I can on her beautiful lips that I never want to part from. “Tomorrow, at that dinner, you’ll sit across from me, and I’ll know the taste of you. You’ll know what my hands feel like. That’ll be enough to drive us both crazy.”
She rests her forehead against mine. “You promise?”
“I do.”
Outside, a gull cries somewhere above, and a foghorn moans in the distance. I brush my thumb across her lower lip. “You should go before I change my mind about behaving.”
She gives a shaky laugh. “Pretty sure it’s already changed.”
“Maybe.” I grin. “Tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow.”
When she slides out of the truck, her legs wobble a little. She glances back once, smiling the kind of smile that wrecks people. I watch her drive off, my hand still gripping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing keeping me grounded.
Tomorrow night’s going to be chaos. Nick, my parents, and all the shit between us.
Edie.Holy shit, I can’t wait.
