Jackson grabs a beer, and I refill my wine before we walk back to the living room and take a seat on the plush couch.
“Okay, what about Elf?” he says, grabbing the remote and pulling me toward him until I’m partially on top of him, tucked against his side.
He does it naturally, without hesitation, and it makes my heart race.
Being with Jackson feels… like something that I should’ve always done.
It feels right.
“A classic, for sure,” I say. “Let’s do it.”
A second later, Elf appears on the screen, and I burrow into Jackson’s side, and we spend the next few hours watching a few of the classics I never got to see growing up.
It’s late, well after 2:00 a.m., if I had to guess, when Jackson stretches beneath me, a deep groan rumbling from his chest. I dozed off sometime during the third movie, and now I’m entirely too comfortable to move.
“I need to go.”
His words are whispered against my ear, and I moan sleepily. “You could… stay?”
“As much as I want to, if I do, someone’s going to see Pearce Builders parked outside your house in the morning, and the entire town will know before noon.”
As much as I don’t want him to go, he’s right. It’s enough that the entire town is gossiping about the two of us spending time together to plan the party. Imagine if they knew what was actually happening.
“Okay, okay.” I groan as I lift myself off him, but he stops me, grabbing my chin between his fingers. Only then do I shake off the grogginess of sleep and open my eyes to stare into his warm, whiskey irises.
“Trust me, Emma, there is nothing more that I want than to wake up with you in my arms. It’s all I fucking want. I just don’t want to make any more gossip than there already is. To do anything that will stress you more. You can’t blink in this town without everyone knowing, you know that,” he says, brushing my hair back out of my face.
I nod. “I know. I understand.”
“But I’ve been thinking about this since we were in the city…” he starts, stopping to brush his finger along my bottom lip. “I don’t… want this to stop. Seeing you. Kissing you. Being with you.”
“I don’t want that either,” I say honestly. I wasn’t sure how he felt about whatever this is between us, but relief floods my chest at his admission. It’s nice to know that he feels the same way.
“Let’s take it one day at a time? We have this party—let’s just get through that, and then we can focus on what’s between us. In the meantime, we’ll keep things quiet. We’ll figure it out, Emma,” he says confidently, and I nod in agreement.
One day at a time.
Easier said than done.
14
emma
The Art of Decorating
“Okay, a little to the left. Yes, maybe like an inch? A liiiiittle more,” I say, squinting as Jackson moves the garland over two inches to the left. Crap, now it looks slightly off center. “Wait, that’s too far.”
He groans. “Woman, I barely moved the damn thing.”
“Well, you barely moved it just a little too far.”
We’ve been at Town Hall all morning, putting up decorations, setting up the tables, organizing everything that’s finally been delivered. The party is only a few days away, and I’m starting to panic… slightly. Even my to-do list isn’t keeping my anxiety under control.
It’s Jackson who’s somehow managing to keep my head on my shoulders with reassuring words and gentle reminders to give myself grace. Not even a month ago, we were publicly wrestling over a nutcracker, and now he’s the one keeping me calm.
“You know,” he says, climbing down from the new ladder I made him purchase from the hardware store so there wouldn’t be a repeat of the last time we were here and he almost died. “I think you just like to stare at my ass while I’m on this ladder, moving shit around.”
I can’t stop the smile that flits to my lips at his teasing, maybe because he might be partially right. Just a tad.
I mean… it is a very nice ass.
An ass that was made for Wranglers.
Honestly, who would’ve thought I would be so attracted to a man who wears nothing but old jeans and worn boots?
“I fucking love when you do that,” he murmurs as he closes the distance between us and slides his calloused hand into the hair at my nape.
“Do what?”
The corner of his lip tugs up. “When your cheeks flush pink, and your eyes get hazy and unfocused, I know you’re thinking of something that has you blushing… like my cock.”
“Can you be so sure that it’s your cock I’m thinking about?” I tease.
A low, growly noise leaves his throat, and I squeak when he leans forward and nips at my bottom lip with his teeth. “Better fucking be my cock, Snowflake. Not sure if you’ve gathered yet, but I’m not interested in sharing.”
Apparently, he likes to play with fire almost as much as I like to stoke it, so I lean forward, gently brushing my lips along his until his hand tightens in the hair at my nape. “But that would have to mean that I was already yours, Jackson Pearce.”
His eyes flare with possessiveness. But just as he opens his mouth to respond, the front door of Town Hall is wrenched open suddenly, and we break apart like we’re two guilty teenagers who’ve just been caught making out in a closet.
And I guess… with the sneaking around we’ve been doing this week, we kind of are.
Mayor Davis steps through the door with a wide smile and a bright red Santa hat that matches his cheeks. “Ah, just the two that I wanted to see!”
Jackson coughs, clearing his throat, and I’m pretty sure my heart is at the bottom of my stomach from almost getting caught. I was two seconds away from dropping to my knees and showing Jackson just how much I really was thinking about his cock.
“Hi, Mr. Davis!” I squeak as I begin to busy myself with stuffing the napkins into the holders, completely avoiding his gaze.
Thankfully, Jackson is more smooth than I am and takes charge. He walks over to Mayor Davis and shakes his hand. “Mornin’, Jed. Come to check on your favorite criminals?”
He chuckles. “It’s a tough job! Someone’s gotta do it. Just wanted to drop by and see how everything is coming along?”
“Oh… it’s a-comin’,” Jackson replies, and I all but choke on my own spit. Saint Nick on a sleigh. “We’re practically coming all the time. You know… to Town Hall to get things done.”
His eyes flit to mine, and he winks, then tells Mayor Davis to follow him to the other side of the building to show off his handiwork in getting the twelve-foot tree up this morning.
He’s completely lost his mind.
While Jackson’s showing Mayor Davis our work in progress, I spend the next few minutes working on the napkins, then begin setting out the place cards. I fought hard for these, but in the end, turns out I can get Jackson to agree to practically anything when my mouth is involved.