Kissmas Wishes (Love In All Seasons 3)

I turn away, pissed off and horny as hell.

It should have been me leading Maple home.MapleThe moment I get to my house with Asher’s massive truck trailing me, I use the excuse I brainstormed the entire drive down the mountain.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell him. “But I feel like I’m coming down with something.” It’s not a lie. But the thing I am coming down with isn’t the flu. I’m lovesick in the worst way.

Asher purses his lips in the least sexy way ever. “Oh. Can I bring you soup or something?”

I swallow. “Actually, thanks but I have some in the pantry.”

He gives me a long once-over as if trying to judge how sick I really am. Truth is, I feel more rosy-cheeked and alive after that mouth-watering kiss with Filson than I have in all my life. My lips still feel swollen and I can’t help but press my fingertips to them.

“You promised me a date, Maple. You aren’t stringing me along, are you?”

“A date might be a bit of a stretch. I promised to go skating with you, Asher.”

He scoffs. “I heard you were a dick tease.”

My mouth drops open, shocked at his vulgarity. “My instincts told me you were a jerk and I should have listened.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’ve been patiently biding my time. You said you needed to wait until after the Thanksgiving soup kitchen meal, and I did. You asked me to dress up as Santa for next week’s Jingle Bell Lane party and I agreed. And now I find you in a cabin with that miscreant and you’re blowing me off.”

“Miscreant? What are we… in a Dickens novel?”

“Filson Barre doesn’t understand the hierarchy in a town like Snowy Valley. He thinks he deserves a handout even though he’s never done a single thing for this place.”

I twist my lips, trying to understand what he is referring to. Handouts? I guess Filson was right. There is a lot about him I don’t know.

“I help the town and it didn’t give me what I wanted,” I say, my feelings still bruised from the council’s decision at a meeting a few months ago. I’d applied for a grant from the city for the soup kitchen. If I’d have received it, I wouldn’t be forced to close it come January.

“You know I was in full support of the grant going to you instead of Arlene at the garden society. But my hands were tied, Maple. Is that what this is about?”

“No, I’m just sick of you,” I say, my anger rising.

“Actually, you do look pretty ill,” he says sourly, stepping back. I bet I do. This conversation is making me nauseous.

“It’s time for you to go,” I tell him, seething. “And you don’t need to come back.”

And with that, he’s off my back.

I practically run inside my house and lock the door. I fall against the back of it with my eyes closed, wanting to remember every last moment of that kiss with Filson.

It was perfect. The way his mouth opened against mine, I felt his cock, hard against my belly and it made my pussy so wet, so warm and wanting. A feeling I’ve dreamt about so long… to be kissed and held by a man ? but not just any man. Filson.

On paper, it makes no sense for me to want him the way I do but ever since I was a little girl, I’ve been fixated on the boy who came to Granny’s kitchen bearing bruises. She’d rub arnica cream on his cheek, telling him that he was brave and smart. I watched in awe of this boy who seemed so strong.

And today he kissed me.

And he admitted that he’d never kissed anyone either.

How is that possible? Though to be fair, you can do other things with a partner that doesn’t involve kissing.

My stomach rolls, the idea of Filson being with anyone else making me queasy. Then my heart fills with shame and regret. I left his house with Asher Martin. I can only imagine the thoughts running through his head right now.

Not knowing what to do with the emotions swirling around me, I make a call that will ground me in reality.

“Hey, Jody? Just wanted to check in on the kitchen,” I say. “I’m guessing it’s pretty crowded with the snow?”

“It has been pretty packed. Thankfully there are lots of volunteers here from a Boy Scout troop.”

“Oh, that’s good,” I say. “And is Isaiah coming in later?”

“Yep, he’ll be here for the evening shift.”

“Great. I’ll be there tomorrow to go through the inventory.”

“I was gonna ask about that. There is an invoice here from Foodsellers, Inc., they say the last payment didn’t go through.”

I swallow. If the payments stop going through, then there will be no ingredients to use to prepare meals for the needy families in our community and beyond. We are the only soup kitchen for sixty miles. And it’s cold out, and it’s nearly Christmas. Not the time to close our doors. Tears prick my eyes, shame flooding all over again for the bad decisions I made since Granny died. Wishing she’d been honest with me before she passed about the state of her soup kitchen and the house. She’d made a lot of mistakes and I kept on making them after she was gone, not knowing what to do.