“Let’s do it.”
We get to work on pulling the pieces of the huge pre-lit artificial tree out of the box and arrange it in front of the window. I was right. The tree with just the lights is gorgeous. I can’t wait to see what it looks like once we get it decorated.
“Well?” I ask a few hours later.
“It looks great, Parker. It makes this place feel more like home.”
“It really does.” We’re lying on the floor in the living room surrounded by opened packages.
“I don’t have enough furniture to fill this place,” he tells me. “I’m going to need to buy some more.”
“Well, you have Christmas taken care of.”
“I don’t know. I think I’d like to put up some lights outside next year.”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe Cameron and Paisley can drive Jett and the new baby by to see the lights.”
It’s a good thing I’m lying down. Who knew Holden had such a way with words? I admit it wasn’t overly sweet or mushy, but he’s including my family. Next year. As in twelve whole months from now. “I’m not sure they’ll really be able to see them from the road.”
He links his pinky with mine and turns his head to look at me instead of the ceiling that he’s been staring up at. I know because I’ve been staring at him. “Then they’ll just have to come to visit to see them.”
My chest rises and falls with each breath as I try to keep my cool. It’s not working if the thundering of my heart is any indication. “Yeah. I’m sure they’d love that.”
“What about you, Parker?”
“What about me?”
“You going to come and visit me next year? Maybe even help me put all this stuff up again?”
“Is that what you want?” Can he hear my heart? My hand that’s not linked with his rests over my heart.
Holden turns to his side, resting his head on his elbow, and stares down at me. “I’m pretty certain that I’m going to want as much time with you as you’re willing to give me.”
“That’s a year from now. Things change.”
He nods. “I agree with you, but this…” He drops my hand and cups my cheek instead. “This feels bigger than anything before it.”
“One day at a time.”
“Slow.” He smiles before angling to kiss me. Reaching for his hat, I toss it to the floor beside us and bury my hands in his hair. His hand slides behind my neck, and he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping past my lips. With slow, leisurely strokes, his tongue glides against mine.
It’s the slowest, most sensual kiss of my life. I know what he’s doing. He’s trying to prove to me that he can go slow. That is what we decided just mere days ago, but he should know that he can’t kiss me like this and expect the same old rules to apply.
He pulls back and rests his head against my chest. We’re both breathing heavily. I continue to run my hands through his hair, memorizing the feel of the silky strands through my fingers. We stay in this position for so long I lose track of time. Hell, it could be mere seconds, but it still feels as if a lifetime has passed. When he raises his head to look at me, his blue eyes are swirling with desire.
For me.
“I’m sorry.”
All the happiness I was just feeling settles like lead in my stomach. “What are you sorry for.”
“I promised you no kisses until tomorrow.” The corner of his mouth lifts into a smile, and the happiness is back.
“Can you do me a favor?”
“Name it.”
“Never apologize for kissing me again.”
“I should probably do something to make up for that, huh?”
He doesn’t give me the chance to answer before his lips are on mine once again. He moves closer, his body molding to the length of mine, and I toss my leg over his. I can’t get close enough.
He kisses me slowly, as if we have all the time in the world, and although my body craves more, I’m okay with this speed. As long as his hands and his lips are on my body like they are now, I can handle the pace. Besides, I know that we need to slow this down. My head is telling me I gave in way too easy. My heart tells me this is the right thing. That there are no set standards for the timeline of a relationship.
“You’re thinking too much,” he says against my lips.
“I’m sorry. Sometimes I get lost in my head.”
“What are you thinking about?”
I debate on blowing him off, but I want this to work. I want this to be more for both of us, and I know hiding what I’m thinking isn’t the way for that to happen. “My head’s telling me we need to stop.”