Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
“Don’t you see that giant hole in it?” Barry asked, sticking his arm into the very small hole in the tree. “We can do better,” he insisted.
I tried no fewer than ten more times over the next forty minutes.
I was steadily losing hope that any tree would live up to Barry’s standards.
“Why don’t you trudge ahead then?” I suggested, handing him the ax, then falling back to walk beside Shale whose nose and cheeks had gone red from the cold. “How you holding up?” I asked, hooking an arm around her, and pulling her close.
“Freezing,” she admitted. “But it’s pretty out here,” she said, leaning into me.
“Here,” I said, unzipping my coat, and pulling her against me, then wrapping the jacket as far around her as it would go.
“Now I’m gonna make you cold,” she objected even as she buried her face in my chest.
“I can take it,” I assured her.
Her arms slid around me and she snuggled in close.
And despite her coldness seeping in through my shirt, there was a strange warm sensation moving through my chest.
“Guys! Guys! I found it!” Barry’s voice carried from a distance.
Shale whined against my chest, but slowly slid away.
“On the upside, if he found it, then we get to get back in a warm car, get some coffee, and go home,” I told her as I zipped up.
“That’s true,” she agreed.
“Marco!” Shale called as we started walking, since Barry’s footsteps went off in three separate directions, then backtracked over themselves.
“Polo!” Barry called back, making us turn to the side.
We followed his tracks.
Then there he was.
Standing next to a fucking perfect Christmas tree.
“Gotta give credit where it’s due,” Shale murmured.
“That’s a good one,” I agreed as Barry beamed at us.
“I think we should chop right around here,” Barry said, leaning down to swing the hatchet at the trunk.
And sending the fucking thing flying.
“Christ,” I hissed, moving in front of Shale.
It landed a few feet in front of us.
“Alright. How about we leave the swinging of sharp objects to me,” I said, bending down to grab it.
“Right. Right. All yours, Boss man,” Barry said, moving to stand beside Shale.
As I started to swing, it didn’t exactly escape me that Shale’s gaze was pinned to me, a heat lighting them.
If it weren’t for fucking Barry being around, I would risk frostbite to yank her pants down a bit, and fuck her from behind until we both came hard before trekking back to the parking lot.
Four hours.
Five, tops.
Then I could have her again.
Even if I had to send Barry on some pointless errand to get alone again.
With that motivation, I chopped harder until I heard it crack, then fall.
Muffled glove claps broke the silence after.
“Barry, get over here and wrap the rope around the trunk, so I can pull it,” I said, walking back over to Shale.
“That was way hotter than I expected,” she said, nudging me with her hip. “If Barry wasn’t here…”
“We’re sending him out for extra lights when we get home,” I told her.
“Well, let’s hurry up then.”
“I will take the first half,” Barry said once he was done strapping up the trunk. He put the rope over his shoulder, and tried to pull.
Operative word being tried.
The damn tree didn’t budge an inch.
“How about I get the tree?” I said, moving forward to take the rope. “And actually knot this thing,” I said when I noticed he’d pretty much just wrapped the trunk instead of tying the rope on.
With that, the two of them took off ahead of me, music blasting again, and they sang with more gusto.
Admittedly, it was the more Christmasy fucking day in my entire adult life.
When we got back to the lot, they wrapped the tree for us, and helped me put it on the top of the car.
With that, we were off back to Navesink Bank.
Shale and Barry sang along with holiday music for the first hour before they lost their enthusiasm.
Before long, Barry was passed out against the window.
And my hand reached out to grab her thigh, giving it a squeeze. She shot me a soft smile that had that damn warm feeling spreading across my chest again.
“After tonight,” she said after a minute, “what happens?”
“We go back to work on your case,” I told her. “So you can get your life back.”
“Oh,” she said, gaze sliding away.
“Hey,” I called, giving her thigh a squeeze. “Back to your life doesn’t mean out of my life.” Then, because that felt weird to admit, I added, “There’s at least fifteen different ways I need to fuck you still.”
“Shh!” she said, smile big, as she glanced back at Barry.
“Maybe you can help get him laid,” I said. “I struck out.”
“Hey, you got him to leave with a woman. He’ll find someone,” she said, sounding a lot more certain than I was. “And he might not be great at picking up on social clues—namely, when to leave—but you’ve got a loyal friend in him.”