What the fuck am I saying?
It doesn’t matter how experienced she is, I won’t be going anywhere near her.
After the girls went upstairs to get settled in, Chloe dragged me out to the tree farm in town to pick a Christmas Tree. Avery insisted it was fine she stayed home alone when in reality I was hoping her injury would have canceled the whole trip. I hate Christmas, and not because of any fucked up childhood trauma or reason, I simply don’t like it. As a kid, we never celebrated it. My parents, who are both lawyers and workaholics, were usually out of town on business during one of their busiest seasons.
Yet here I am, dragging a twelve foot Douglas Fir up the front steps of my porch, only to make sure Chloe has the best Christmas before going off to college. Women.
“It’s going to look perfect!” she squeals once it’s perched and standing in the middle of the den. She insisted it be front and center in the living room, but there is no way that thing is going to be the first sight I see when I walk through the front door.
“Looks great as is,” I scoff, dreading the amount of tinsel, garland, and ornaments that are sure to be hung up before the night is over.
“I’ll go get Avery and we can start decorating it.”
“Chloe, why don’t you go and get some rest. I’m sure Avery isn’t in the mood to be on her feet let alone decorate a tree.” I don’t mention the fact I’m not ready to come face to face with her again, when my cock’s still hard just from thinking about how good she felt in my arms. “Tomorrow morning I’ll bring out the boxes of decorations you stored in my basement and you can decorate it then. Get some sleep, I’m sure it’s been a long day.”
Chloe reluctantly nods, accepting my suggestion. “Okay fine, but you’re making your famous hot cocoa tomorrow morning, I already told Avery about it and I know she’s dying to have a taste.” My cock twitches instinctively at her comment.
“Yeah I’m sure she wants a taste,” I mumble under my breath.
“Huh?” Chloe asks.
Fuck. I really need to stop before I say or do something stupid. “I said sure thing, I’m sure she’ll love it.”
“Maybe some of your famous buttermilk biscuits. I know Avery will love those.”
Without warning she pounces on me, nearly tackling me back against the couch. “Thank you Zane, for letting me be here with you, for putting up with my crazy, and spending the holiday with me. I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too baby girl,” I whisper into her hair as I rub my hand up and down her back. I feel her body tense against me, her heartbeat speeding and pounding against my own chest.
“I love you Zane,” she whispers into my chest, and I can’t help the smile that appears at her confession.
“I love you too Chloe.”
Chapter 3
AVERY
“Rise and shine!”
I cover my head with my pillow hoping it will tune out the loud blaring of the alarm clock. But there is no alarm clock, and I’m afraid there is no damn snooze button on Chloe’s morning cheeriness. It’s no use, you can hear her through anything, even through sound proof walls.
“I know you can hear me, Avery.”
“Ugh, I thought we were on vacation Chloe. Usually on vacation one can sleep in however long they want.” I am definitely not a morning person, especially when I don’t have school to worry about. Least of all when the smell of coffee is nowhere to be found.
“Come on Avery, it’s tree decorating time,” she squeals, tugging the covers off of me in one swift pull. “You’re lucky I didn’t drag you downstairs last night to do it. Zane figured you’d be tired and needed to lay low so he forced me to wait till morning.”
“He did?” I ask, sitting up, surprised Chloe’s stepdad gives a shit. Or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he just preferred to postpone his house turning into a scene from “How The Grinch Stole Christmas”.
“Yeah, I think he just didn’t want to have to do it with me. Bad enough I dragged him out to get a tree. Anyways, get up, out of bed, in the shower, and put on the matching pajamas I bought us.” She walks toward the door, looking back before she exits. “Breakfast will be served downstairs in twenty.”
With that she slams the door, leaving me alone in the huge guest room that’s mine for the week. It’s easily the size of the two bedroom apartment I share with my mom and her boyfriend back in Cali. A queen size, four-poster bed with the comfiest mattress, and plushest comforter, a walk-in-closet, an attached en-suite bathroom, and a gorgeous view of the snow covered mountains through the floor to ceiling window to my right. I debate going back to sleep but decide against it. No need to make Chloe come back up and drag my ass out by the ear. I need to make this Christmas perfect for her since she went through the trouble of including me in her plans. I need to find her the perfect present, only problem, I have no idea where to begin.
...
It was almost impossible to drag myself out of the shower, the warm jetted showerhead giving my scalp the best massage. But after fifteen short minutes, I’m out, dressed, and ready to head down stairs. Luckily my ankle was much less swollen this morning, and I can pretty much put my entire body weight on it now. I can’t believe I slipped the moment I stepped foot out of the uber. It was fucking embarrassing landing on my ass and having to be carried in like a child.
Even if it was in the arms of Chloe’s unexpectedly sexy as sin stepfather. I only remember seeing him a few times when I first met my best friend, since her mom divorced Zane shortly after. I knew he was young and pretty good looking, I mean Chloe’s mom is super-hot for a woman in her early forties, but I wasn’t expecting him to be some sexy god with dark hair and tantalizing green eyes. All I know is Chloe was utterly destroyed and heartbroken after the divorce, and now I can’t help but wonder if there was another reason behind her grieving. I know I’d be completely torn up if I lost this gorgeous hunk.
I changed into the Christmas pajamas Chloe bought us, tiny shorts barely covering my ass and a matching spaghetti-strap tank covered in tiny little candy canes put together to form hearts. I don’t know what she was thinking, getting us these while we’re staying with her stepfather, but I can’t help the extra pep-in-my-step as I descend the staircase and head into the kitchen. Of course it also may be the fact that I’m not wearing a bra under the silk tank, and the peaks of my pierced nipples are definitely hard to miss. Let’s see how out of your league this is, old man.
Zane is leaning back against the kitchen island, wearing low hung sweatpants and a plain white tee, while Chloe sits cross legged on a kitchen stool, in the same pajama set I am wearing. He’s holding a steaming cup of coffee in his hand, laughing at something she’s saying. The smell of coffee, bacon, and freshly baked bread infiltrates my nostrils as I step into the room.
“What is that amazing smell?” I ask, licking my lips as I head toward the array of items neatly arranged on platters atop the island. Chloe is quick to turn to me, hopping off her seat and enveloping me in a hug.
“Only the best homemade breakfast you’ll ever have. That’s one of the things I miss most about Zane, his cooking. Mom can’t fry an egg to save her life,” Chloe says, making us both laugh.