Page 55 of Holly Jolly Heat
"I promise not to fall off the ladder," I said.
"That's not…I wasn't…" She took a breath. "I'm sure you're very competent with ladders."
"Former military. I've dealt with worse than a Douglas fir."
"Right. Of course." She buried her face in her coffee mug.
Bill was trying very hard not to smile.
Two hours later, I was on a twelve-foot ladder, stringing lights through the upper branches of the biggest Douglas fir I'd ever seen, while Michelle stood at the base feeding me light strands and looking stressed.
"You're too high," she said for the third time.
"The top branches need lights too."
"Bill usually stops at the ten-foot mark."
"Bill isn't here." He'd been conveniently called away by Janet twenty minutes ago, leaving Michelle and me alone. Very subtle, Janet. "And you mentioned wanting the whole tree lit this year."
"I mentioned it would look nice. I didn't mean you had to risk your life."
"I'm not risking my life. I'm standing on a ladder."
"A tall ladder. That's old. On potentially uneven ground."
I looked down at her. She was gripping the ladder with both hands, knuckles white, her scent sharp with anxiety.
She was worried. About me. About my safety.
My alpha purred with satisfaction.
"Michelle," I said gently. "I'm fine. I've done this kind of thing a hundred times."
"In combat situations, probably. Not decorating trees."
"Is there a difference?"
"YES."
Despite the tension, I smiled. "Hand me the next strand?"
She did, but reluctantly, watching me clip lights with the focus of someone expecting disaster.
We worked in silence for a few minutes, and I let myself enjoy this. Being useful. Doing something tangible for her family. Existing in Michelle's space while she slowly relaxed below me.
"Why do you watch me like that?" she asked suddenly.
"Like what?"
"Like you're... cataloging everything. Assessing threats. Being protective." She looked up at me. "You've been doing it since we arrived. Positioning yourself between me and potential problems. Checking exits. Running security protocols."
"Old habits."
"It's more than that."
I secured another light strand before responding. "You're my omega. Protecting you is instinct."
"I'm your manager," she corrected automatically.
