Page 40 of Under The Meh-stletoe
"Laugh with me, then. Tell me I'm the worst and make a joke. But when we can't find joy, let us work through it and come out happy at the other side."
"I see." I pulled a face. "The message of the season got into you. It's all about joy now."
"How dare you?" He poked my side. "All you had to do was say yes. Say yes." He poked me again.
"Yes to what? I'm never saying yes to the Holiday spirit."
"Fuck’s sake, Ale. Say yes to being with me. We can be cranky together, then laugh about it. Because with you, I want to."
"I'm not cranky!"
He poked. "Say yes."
His hand massaged the spot where he'd dug his finger. In a swift move, he found the edge of my shirt and caressed his way up my waist. The warmth of his hand immediately soothed my skin.
"I think you should tell me about your feelings some more." I ran my fingers down his sides and followed his lead; I pushed his clothing out of the way and touched him, my hands going up his back as far up as I could.
"I want to be alone— with you." He squirmed on top of me, his weight still on the one elbow. Our clothes loosened up between us, giving us access to explore further. Soft stomach to soft stomach, our hands surveyed new territories. "I want to put work into a relationship, if it’s with you. Happy? Now say yes."
His eyes remained serious, intense as always, focused on me. The hand traveling on my skin wrapped around my ribcage, fingers splayed and expansive. His thumb caressed the underside of my breast, over the lace of my bra.
I loved that he wanted to hear my yes. That he was a grump who wanted to be with me, laugh with me, work at things with me.
His question was all about committing to each other. Having always shown me he was the reliable kind, Daniel made it easier to say yes.
My insides melted, warm wax softening into the coziest feeling. I was still done with exasperated, attractive men, but not for the same reason as two months earlier. This time, it was because I had found the one true grouch for me.
"I'm positively merry." I smiled and let my hand wrap around the soft flesh above his belt. I squeezed. "And yes. I want that, too."
He returned my grin and kissed me again, hard. "I thought so, but are you always going to make me work like this?"
I hooked a leg behind his. "I think so, yes."
He shook his head. His hand traveled up and down my waist, waking up my nerve endings, until it settled on the soft rounds of my hips.
"Mmmh. Good thing I'm not afraid of hard work." He got up and pulled me up from the sofa. "Come. I'm hungry."
He'd given me no warning and I got up too fast— a dizzy spell struck me.
I leaned on him. "Wait— what? You're going to cook now?"
"I want dessert first." He turned me with two firm hands on my hips and pushed me toward a short hallway.
"Oh. Oooh. I see. You're decisive like this, and now that we made up our mind..."
His room was a decent size, with a big window overlooking a small park, a king-size bed, and a wall-to-wall closet with several doors, some of them open. Dark gray covered the walls here again, but all the furniture and even the duvet were white, helping brighten the space. A patterned geometrical blanket in yellow, earthy tones covered the foot of the bed. He guided me all the way to it, at the side of the bed, before he turned me back around to face him.
"Unless you still want to take it slow, in which case we'll go out and get a sandwich from the damn gas station, to avoid temptation."
He took his hands off me as he waited for my answer, as if even the simplest touch would urge him forward. My face took on the comfortable, familiar shape of a smirk.
I hooked my index finger on his belt and pulled him to me, until his body and mine touched from chest to toes. "I can't wait to see what this brawny lumberjack can do with me."
A cheeky smile tilted his lips upward. His hands settled on my hips again. "And to think I almost tried to escape you and go chop that tree alone."
I unbuttoned his plaid shirt. "I almost want you to keep this on."
"I can do that. You keep your glasses on, okay?"
