“We watched Deck the Halls too and did some ice-skating.”
“You mean my masterclass, right?”
“Of course,” she snickers, toasting her glass with mine before we both take a sip.
When she draws closer, I pull my phone from my pocket, and as she nuzzles her face with mine, a wide grin cutting her face, I chance a quick photo of us.
For memories’ sake.
It’s a good thing I’ve put the phone on silent, because I slip it away before she notices anything. The last thing I want to do is give Amelia the wrong impression of me and her. The proverbial us.
Whether I admit it or not, it’s there. That’s the thing about Amelia—something that no other woman has managed to do. Ever. She’s got me foolishly tangled up in so many damn strings that it’s impossible for me to fathom not seeing her ever again. Even when we’re in different rooms, I feel her presence tug at me, urging me closer.
“Sooo…what now?” she asks in between sips of her drink, fingering the cheap ornaments I got from the Christmas tree farm.
“I think your crash Christmas course is done, but there’s one thing we haven’t covered. Probably the most obvious one given why we’re stuck here.” Drinking up the contents of my glass, I gesture for her to do the same while I grab our coats, her scarf and hat.
I pause against the doorjamb, watching her hold her glass to her chest as she sways on the spot in front of the fire. A catchy version of “White Christmas” is playing softly in the background, and as I catch a glimpse out of the window, it feels odd seeing the ice flecks dust over her car.
Holding her hat and scarf up to my nose in a bunch, I inhale deeply. Much like the woman herself, her scent is mesmerizing and addictive, leaving me wanting more the minute I exhale.
Dark jeans mold to her plump ass as she turns toward me, her Christmas sweater emphasizing every mouthwatering curve.
“Your momma ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”
“I think we were past the rude staring shit the instant I fucked your pussy with my tongue.” Nodding at the floor by the tree, I add, “Right there.”
“Oh my God!” Amelia flushes a glowing shade of rosy that reminds me of the color of her ass after I spank it. “I’m going to need warning when you casually decide to drop those reminders.”
“Want a refresh? I can do that too…I’m open to anything.”
Putting her glass down beside mine, she meanders over to me and takes her hat, pulling it on before she does the same to her coat. “I know.” Her face flushes, and I know she’s thinking about all the other ways I’ve had her.
Putting her scarf around her neck I pull her to me. “When you blush like that, it does things to me. It’s like a challenge to see how much deeper I can make it.”
With a shallow gasp, her mouth falls open, and it’s all the invitation I need. Biting her lip, I take a step back, letting it pull between my teeth. I’m putting my coat on as she sneaks glances up at me from where she’s sitting on the boot bench, putting hers on, when my phone starts to ring in my back pocket. I ignore it the first few times, but on the fourth, I decide to check it. Dad.
“Adam,” he says in his business tone before I can greet him. “You need to go back to Drummond and bring that investment in before you leave.”
“Legal said they sent the contract. It’s a done deal.”
“Not until we have the signed contract in our hands, so I’ve arranged dinner.”
My heart drops to my stomach as I watch Amelia skip out into the snow. She’s instantly dusting off the lighter blanket from her car in between come-hither glances that I can’t oblige right now.
“Dad…”
“Your sister booked it seeing as your assistant isn’t around. I’ll let her tell you about that. She’s adamant she has to be the one to do it, God only knows why.”
Steeling myself, I pull on my coat and close the door, preparing myself to break the only rule left unscathed.
“Dad, I already have plans tonight.”
“Are they going to make you eight hundred million?” I don’t bother answering. Aside from it being a rhetorical question, there’s no reply that’s going to work unless it’s the one he wants to hear.
Right now, he’s not my dad; I’m on the phone to my boss. And as much as I wish it were different, soon Amelia and I will be nothing but a blip in history. “It’s really simple, Adam. You want the job, you want to be me, you have to earn it. Work for it. I’ve told you from the beginning, I’m not going to hand you an empire you haven’t put your blood and sweat into.”
“Of course you are,” Daphne says over him in the background. “He’s your son, and what is it you always preach, Daddy?” A sour laugh escapes me as she answers for him, “Blood is more precious than wealth.”
“I’m serious, son. You can’t have what you don’t take. I’ll let your sister tell you about the reservation.”
While he’s handing her the phone, I hear Mom chastise him in the background. I think that if it wasn’t for her and who she is that maybe my childhood wouldn’t have been too different from Amelia’s. But then, she said her father was never really around, and Dad was. He was at every single game, and he made a point of being home for dinner at least once a week and every Saturday for Sabbath.
“I’m the best sister ever, you don’t have to tell me,” Daphne tells me by way of greeting. “So I did some digging around and found this cute country pub. It’s not fancy, but it looks intimate enough that you can take a date and still do business.”
“That’s the worst idea you’ve ever had. Why would I—” I stop when I reach Amelia and carry on listening to all the things Daphne has to say.
“Anyway, don’t act like you don’t like the idea of her seeing you in action. The reservation is for seven in the evening, and it’s a table for four. I’ve also got you into the church’s carol concert at ten—figured it would be a good way of making it up to your…whatever she is.”
“Daph—”
“Please, if you won’t do it for you, do it for me. I’ve got the twin fuzzies over here. I know you’re having fun, and you sound happy, Adam. For me? And Amelia?”
Amelia smiles back at me, and I can imagine how her face will light up when I tell her about the carol concert. More than that, I’m addicted to the feeling I get when she’s that happy.
“Fine.”
“Atta boy! I’ll text you all the details, and all you’ll have to do is get yourselves an Uber.”
I scoff at that. Uber? Clearly she has no idea how secluded this place is.
“Love you, Ad.”
“You too, Daph.”
I’ve barely hung up when a snowball hits me square in the chest, followed by another straight to the head.
“Have I told you I’m from New York? Wintery, snowy New York?”
“And?” Amelia runs behind her car as I start balling up my own ammunition.
“Where did you learn to make snowballs? At the beach?”
She laughs as I round the car and throw my ball at her ass. Her laughter is so hard that when I start balling another mound of snow, she can barely throw the one already in her hand. It’s the most precious sound.