Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21225 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
6
Marley
“Are you really okay with the pink lights?” I ask, holding the remote that controls the lights on the tree.
With a click of a button I can change the color to anything I want. Normally I’m into traditional colors when it comes to decorating for Christmas. That was until I knew pink was an option. Now there’s no going back.
“Whatever you want, babe. You can change it every hour if you want.”
That’s the third time he’s called me babe. Is it a slip? I don’t think Saint is the kind of man who calls random girls babe. He also called me honey once and sweetheart twice. Yeah, I’m crazy and counting them.
“Okay.” I set the remote down.
We’ve been working on the tree for the last hour and have barely made a dent in the decorations. I fight a yawn, not wanting to go to bed yet. I’m having way too much fun. I haven’t felt this happy in a long time. It’s nice to have someone to share things with.
“We have all day tomorrow, Marley. We don’t have to get it done tonight.” I stare at him. “I mean we can keep at it.” I realize I must have scrunched my face in disapproval. He thinks it’s because I want to keep going when really it’s because he called me Marley.
“Want to watch a movie or something?” I suggest.
What I really want to ask is if he can kiss me again. My lips still tingle from those kisses earlier. The memory of how his lips felt against mine kept distracting me during dinner. I didn’t taste any of the food I’d eaten. All I could taste was him.
I no longer have regrets about not being a bit wilder in my college days. I’m glad I saved my first kiss because that’s one I’ll never forget.
“We can do anything you want.” He’s so damn agreeable. I’m starting to think Saint has a twin brother, and they’ve swapped places.
“Oh!” I turn, scurrying out of the living room and back to the entryway.
I grab the fluffy blanket that was in one of the boxes and bring it back with me. Saint has the TV remote and is clicking through the channels. He turns to glance my way. His eyes go to my legs.
He’d given me one of his shirts to wear. It's longer than any of the dresses that I wear, going all the way to my knees. He also gave me a pair of thick socks. I’m sure I look ridiculous, but the way his eyes always flick over me every time he looks my way you’d think I was wearing something sexy.
I curl up on the sofa as Saint finally settles on a movie. I don’t give a crap what we’re about to watch. I’m more interested in where Saint is going to sit. I already have regrets about my choice of seat selection. I should have sat in the center of the sofa. That would have guaranteed he’d have to sit next to me. Then again, I want him to pick to sit next to me. I don’t want to come off as being clingy.
“That’s my spot,” Saint says, dropping the remote down on the coffee table.
“Your spot?” I guess everyone does have their favorite spot to sit. To be honest, I kind of thought the room was never used. “I can—”
“I got it.” He cuts me off, plucking me right off the sofa like I’m the size of a doll.
He steals my spot and puts me down right next to him. He even goes as far as to grab my leg and pull it over his. The shirt I’m wearing rides all the way up my thighs, causing my panties to peek out. When he pulls the fluffy blanket over us, it hides them away. I’m not sure if I’m thankful for that or not.
“Your family going to be upset you’re not going to make it for Christmas?”
“Are you upset that I’m intruding on yours?” I ask my own question, not sure I want to answer him. My family can be a bit tricky. I love them, but I often feel a bit out of place.
“I don’t normally celebrate. I’m used to being alone.” He gives one of those shrugs of his.
I’m really starting to dislike those. I always sense there is more he could be saying when he gives me one. I shouldn't be all judgy. I just dodged his question, and I’ll bet anything he picked up on it. I’m noticing Saint picks up on a lot when it comes to me.
“Why did you want to celebrate this year?” I ask, fighting another yawn.
“There is something about Winter Falls. All the snow.”
“I’m glad I got stuck here with your normally grumpy self. I’m going to make you love Christmas, and then you’ll always want to celebrate it.” Deep down inside I’m hoping I’m going to make him love a lot more than the holidays.