Chapter Seven
BEN
Kara has been showering and getting ready for over an hour. I’ve had time to bring in her tree, put it in the stand, and water it already.
“Ben, you should’ve waited so I could help you. That tree is huge!”
Kara looks comfortable in a form fitting pair of leggings and an oversized sweater with a pair of fuzzy socks. She’s never been more beautiful.
“I’m not the weak thirteen-year-old boy you took pity on anymore. Putting a tree in a stand isn’t hard.”
She eyes it skeptically. “Thank you. I’m not sure I could’ve done it alone. I was a bit worried about ordering a tree online, but I think I’d do it again. It’s gorgeous.”
“They also left these.” I pick up a couple of packages of mistletoe.
“Nice touch.”
I hook my arm around her waist and pull her close. “I agree. Do I get to kiss you now?”
She rises to her tiptoes and throws her arms around my neck. “Yes, please.”
Our kiss is just as passionate as last night. I lift her, and she wraps her legs around my waist.
“Ben,” she gasps as I lower my lips to her neck.
With careful precision, I walk backward and lower both of us to the couch. Straddling me, Kara grinds against my dick with a moan.
I slide my hands under her sweater, but she leans back and pushes them away. “Let’s take it slow. I don’t want to just hop back into bed with you; I want to enjoy reconnecting.”
She shifts her weight against my cock, and I groan.
“Okay, but you need to stop doing that or I’m going to embarrass myself.”
Kara chuckles and jumps off of me. “I’ve got to get dinner going and then we can start decorating the tree and making cookies.”
“Kare bear, you realize it’s only noon, right?”
“Yes, but I’m making beef stew in the crock pot and homemade biscuits. It needs to cook for six to eight hours. It’s going to be a late dinner.”
My stomach grumbles and I’m not even hungry. Kara makes the best stew. “Can I help with anything?”
“Would you mind going to the garage and pulling out all the red and green plastic storage tubs? I’ll help you bring them in when I’m finished.”
I stand and pull her in for one more kiss. “I’ve got it covered, you just focus on making the best stew you can.”
When I step into the garage and turn on the lights, I’m shocked at how many red and green tubs she has. I’ve never been up here with Kara for the holidays and have only seen pictures. Apparently, it takes fifteen tubs of decorations to make the Christmas magic happen. It wouldn’t matter if it were fifty; for Kara, I’d lug them all to the North Pole and back if she asked me to.
Chapter Eight
KARA
I’m chopping vegetables for the stew and pause to look out the window. Beautiful snowflakes fall from the sky with no end in sight. We’re definitely going to have a white Christmas. I can hear Ben moving boxes around in the garage and feel a slight twinge of guilt for asking him to take on such a big job alone, but I need a few minutes alone to think.
It feels so odd to let him back into my life this easily after being angry with him for so long. The thing about Ben is that he’s pretty transparent. I’ve always been able to tell when he’s lying, and I don’t think that’s changed.
It’s also easier being here when he’s around. I was prepared to celebrate the holiday alone but I’m beyond thankful I don’t have to.
After turning on the slow cooker, I line up all the dry ingredients for cookies and take the butter and eggs from the fridge to allow them to reach room temperature.
Ben props open the door and carries in two boxes at once. “Kara, are you decorating outside too?”
“No, I should’ve mentioned that. We stopped a couple of years ago. The weather is just too unpredictable, and it’s not worth the hassle if I’m only going to be here a few weeks.”
“Cool.” He makes quick work of bringing the boxes inside. “That makes it seven boxes instead of fifteen. Do you use all seven?”
I flash him a grin. “Every last one. Don’t be scared, mom was organized. Lights are in a box of their own, ornaments are in at least two or three. Most of the time is spent decorating the tree.”
He scoffs. “As if I’m afraid of a holiday decorating challenge.”
“You heard me say we’re making cookies afterward, right?”
Ben pauses and narrows his eyes at me. “First of all, we were fourteen. Second, I wasn’t wearing my glasses and salt and sugar were right next to each other on the recipe—it was an easy mistake. And most importantly, I would do it all over again to see my dad’s face contort in pain as he choked down that huge bite. That was the funniest shit I’ve ever seen.”
We both laugh at the memory. It was pretty funny.
“Have your cookie skills improved since then?”
He shoves his hands in his pockets and nods. “Actually, yes. I dated a woman who owned a bakery. During the month we were together, Lindsey managed to teach me how to make peanut butter cookies. They’re pretty good, if I do say so myself.”
“Perfect, you can make the peanut butter cookies and I’ll make the sugar cookies.”
Ben pushes a wayward curl off his forehead. “May the best cookie maker win. Until then, how do we do this?”
“One box at a time, my friend.”
“Ugh,” he mimics a dagger through the heart, “already putting me in the friend zone.”
I drop to my knees and begin popping off the lids to the plastic bins so we can sort them. “Friends is the best place to start, don’t you think? It worked pretty well for us last time.”
He arches a brow. “Does that mean you’ll finally accept my social media requests?”
“Meh, if you’re lucky.”
He stands behind me and bends down, kissing the top of my head. “I’m already luckier than I deserve, Kara.”
“This is true.” I tilt my head back and look him in the eyes and smile.
“Where are we starting, smartass?”
I point to the first bucket I opened. “That one has the lights and those go on first.”
“I’d hate to see what would happen if you tried putting them on last.”
“Who’s the smartass now?”
Ben chuckles and carries the lights into the living room. I push the three buckets of ornaments to the side so they’re separated from and the inside decorations.
Ben holds out his hand and helps me up from the floor. “Are you ready for this?”
“Almost, but first we need egg nog.”
“Alcoholic?”
I snicker. “Is there any other kind?”
Ben looks impressed when I pull out the glass container. “Did you make that?”
“I wish I could take the credit. They don’t advertise it because they could get in trouble, but Earl’s wife Mary makes it and sells it on the side.”
“Good for her. She’s such a sweet lady.”