“Sounds like that’s settled. You make sure the job is done right, Spencer,” Mrs. Ryan said, shooting her son a stern look.
“I’ll make sure,” he said, staring into the fireplace, his jaw tight.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, dear,” Mrs. Ryan called out, waving goodbye as she headed back across the street to her house.
“She hasn’t changed a bit,” Tatum said, smiling at Lucy and Spencer. “You’re lucky to have her.”
Lucy hugged her. “Oh, Tatum... I just realized... I’m sorry about your dad. And your mom. Well, that’s it. You’re going to be a Ryan this Christmas, no arguing. No way you’re going to spend it alone, you hear me?” She hugged her tighter. “This Christmas does need to be extra special.”
Tatum blinked back her tears. She’d lost her mother and grandparents years ago. Her father had passed last year. And now, without Brent, she had no one to celebrate with. “Thanks, Lucy. But I don’t want to invade—”
“Invade,” Spencer said. “You’ll appreciate coming home to a quiet house.” He smiled at her, his blue eyes so blue.
“Off to the tree farm?” Lucy asked. “Or would you rather go shopping?”
One look Spencer’s way told her exactly what she wanted, even if it wasn’t one of her choices. But she could wait. Anticipation was a good thing. Until then, she’d have to find a way to occupy herself. “Let’s start with a tree.”
“I’ll get the truck,” Spencer said, heading out the front door.
“What’s it been? One day?” Lucy asked as soon as they were alone. “How naked did you get last night? And don’t even try to deny it. You two—in the same room—wow. I need a fan and some ice water to cool down.”
She should argue, but she’d never been good at lying. “I admit, he’s... I’m...overwhelmed.”
Lucy laughed. “Yeah, well, you’re not alone. He almost poured orange juice in his coffee this morning.”
“He did not,” she argued, delighted to know their time together had him just as rattled as she was.
“Yep,” Lucy said. “Aunt Imogene texted him to come straight over after work, ready to tear into him for not having the house done. I don’t think he’s had a break in a few weeks but his mom gets all crazy over the holidays. All he said was he’d gotten distracted. By you. Then he stormed off for a shower. I can only imagine what that meant.” Lucy giggled but didn’t ask questions. One of the many reasons Tatum had always loved Lucy—she didn’t pry.
But Lucy’s words ramped up her excitement level. If he’d found last night distracting, she couldn’t wait for tonight.
* * *
SPENCER HELD HIS breath as Tatum bent forward to inspect the bin of wood-chip angels. She had great legs. Long, trim, encased in tall black boots. The sight of her round ass hugged by skintight leggings almost made him groan. It definitely made his pants uncomfortable. He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“These are adorable.” She straightened, holding up one of the ornaments.
“They’re to go on your outside tree,” Lucy explained. “To give it that rustic look. If that’s what you’re going for?”
Tatum turned the ornament in her hands, her expression assessing. “I have no idea what I’m going for, but I like them.”
“Start with a tree,” he offered.
She looked at him, nodding. Her gaze fell to his mouth. “Whatever you say,” she said.
She was teasing him. Driving him out of his damn mind. Later, he’d remind her she said that. All he could think about was getting her back to her place and into her bed. Instead, he barked out, “This way,” and led them outside. If he was lucky, the chill in the air would help him gain some control over his libido. The last time he’d felt this kind of desire, he’d been nineteen and she’d been his whole world. He glanced back at her, talking and laughing with Lucy. He was older, more grounded now...but somehow being around her made him forget that.
Last night had been a revelation. Leaving her had been one of
the hardest things he’d ever done. Yes, he’d wanted to finish what they’d started, but it was more than that. They’d had unfinished business for a long time. Now that she was back, and they were the way they still were, he hoped he’d finally be able to apologize. And, if she’d give him the chance, explain why he’d done what he did—why he’d broken both of their hearts. His had never fully recovered.
One hour and two trees later, they were pulling in front of Tatum’s house. He was glad Lucy had volunteered to squeeze in the middle. He’d spent most of the day being aware of Tatum’s every move. He wasn’t sure how he’d react if he was being pressed up against her. His wayward body had no problem revealing just how much he wanted her. Walking through a Christmas tree farm with a hard-on wasn’t exactly socially acceptable but there hadn’t been a damn thing he could do about it. Now that they were back at her place and he knew what he had to look forward to, he was in for a long, uncomfortable evening.
Spencer followed them down the path, watching the light fall of snowflakes settle in Tatum’s hair. She was shivering. Didn’t she have a heavy coat? Guess it didn’t get too cold in Los Angeles. It took everything he had not to pull her close and warm her up.
As Tatum opened the front door, Lucy said, “If you decide you need extra hands, call my brothers Dean and Jared. They’re off tomorrow. I figure Zach is going to be pretty out-of-pocket since this is his first Christmas as a married man. And with Patton’s wedding coming up—”
“Zach is married?” Tatum asked, stunned. “Is Patton finally marrying Ellie? She was so stuck on him.” She hung her keys on a hook by the door.