by Carly Keene
“Yes,” I say. “I’ll marry you.”
He looks startled, and his eyes start to smile into mine. “When I ask in a couple of months?”
“No, now. Whenever you want.”
He laughs out loud, and joy fills the kitchen the way sunlight does. “My girl, for real.” Our kiss tastes like happiness.
With just a hint of hot chocolate.
Epilogue 1
Adam
New Year’s Eve
Today’s the day.
It’s clear, and cold. No clouds, no chilly rain, just fierce sun in a blue sky so high and icy that it nearly sparkles. Perfect for late December—almost as perfect as she is.
“You ready, honey?” I reach my hand around the edge of the barn to my bride. Her hand gropes for mine, and seizes it, and I hear her beautiful sexy laugh from the other side of the rough wood.
“Ready!”
Dakota takes the picture of our hands meeting, one of us on either side of the corner. Then I go to the front of the building. I nod to the minister. “Go ahead and start.”
We are getting married in the old hay barn, the one Holly wants to turn into a reception venue. I’m going to allow it, as soon as all the ceremony is over and I’ve taken her to bed and made her my wife in full. Cannot wait.
Under my dress pants, my dick wakes up, and I have to palm it through my pocket to quiet things down.
Then she comes through the door, and she looks amazing, even if she did have to order a dress online so it would arrive in time. White dress, sure, with long bell sleeves and a high neck that does nothing to hide her full bosom. Long green cape thing around her shoulders, trimmed in fake white fur. Bouquet of red roses and holly, to match the holly boutonnieres Jackson and Dakota and I are wearing.
There’s that smile on her face. She licks her lips as she comes toward me, and I get semi-hard again.
We say the words. We make the promises, and she’s mine. We will end this year and begin the next, the rest of our lives, together.
We take the time to drink hot chocolate and eat chocolate cake iced white, with my brothers and Nancy, the minister and Jenny from the diner, and Holly’s sister Sandy and her husband and kids. And then I shoo them all away.
“This is supposed to be a party!” Jackson protests, reaching for another slice of cake. “You eat things at parties!”
“Yeah, well, get outta here and go to your New Year’s Eve party,” I tell him. “Go on, get.”
Holly is giggling. “Impatient,” she says, and kisses my hand.
“I mean it, y’all. Out. All y’all, off the premises.”
“No, sir.” Miz Jenny stands there in her best blue church dress and her puffer coat, hands on hips. “You let me put this food away first. But you and Miss Holly go on in the house, because I know you’re eager.” She laughs.
“You mean Mrs. Sledd.” I squeeze her waist, and Holly flashes me another of those sultry, beckoning looks of hers.
Nancy laughs too. “I’ll help you, Jenny, and then I’ll lock everything up around here.” She winks at me. “Gotta put this thing to bed now.”
“You ain’t kidding.” Everybody laughs, but I glare, and they all zip up their coats and scoot out the door, all but Nancy and Jenny from the diner, and I trust them to do what’s needed.
I turn to my bride, my woman, my queen. I scoop her up in my arms and kiss her. The whoops rise in the air, but I don’t care. If I don’t get her in private soon, I’ll have to take her right here in front of everybody.
And then I’d have to kill them for seeing her beautiful sexy naked body. That’s all mine now, officially. Weird to think that I hadn’t even met her a month ago, and now our whole lives stretch out together.
I heft her up the front steps and slam the door behind us. I watch her notice the preparations I’ve made: the Christmas tree lights are on, and the living room carpet has been made into a nest, with the spare comforters and pillows from the linen closet.
“Mrs. Sledd, I am at your service.” I unhook her cape and take off her little ankle boots.
“In front of the tree?” Her eyes shine in the multicolored lights. “I’m at your service too, Mr. Sledd,” she says, flirty.
“You damn straight I’m gonna service you.” I strip off my clothes. I’m tenting my boxers, and there’s a wet spot where my cock’s been drooling over her for the past hour. “How do I get that dress off you, woman?”
She turns her back and looks at me over her shoulder, licking her lips. God, she is the most fuckable thing on the planet. “You just unzip, and then you just push it down over my shoulders.”
That sheer bra she’s wearing is sexy as hell. And shit, she isn’t wearing any underwear. I lay her down on the blanket nest and suck her nipples right through the bra. She moans, saying my name, spreading her legs for me. She’s already so wet that her thighs are shiny with her juices.
My wife. Mine.
“Adam, please!” Her cheeks are pink and she’s starting to pump her hips. “Touch me, I want you so bad.”
For answer I slide down her body and dive face-first into her cleft. I tongue-fuck her while I rub her clit, and then I lick her clit while I finger-fuck her, and she moans louder and louder.
The sound of her in desire is winding me up tighter and tighter. I might cum in my pants if I don’t get to shove my cock in her as far as it will go, and soon. “Please fuck me, Adam,” she pleads. “Please.”
“Are you mine?”
“I’m yours,” she says, panting. “Please fuck me, Adam—oh shit, I’m gonna come now!” Her head goes back, her body stiffens, and she cries out her pleasure. When she calms back down, I’m still gently fingering her. “I still need you,” she says, panting.
I am more than ready. I strip my boxers off and position myself at her wet opening. She moans again, and then I’m pushing inside her, filling her with my dick, feeling her sweet pussy walls contract around me.
“You feel so good,” she moans, writhing under me.
I thrust inside her, moving my hips fluidly, sucking her nipples one after the other. Soon she’s pumping back against me, and begging for more. I grab her thighs and hold them up so I can see my manhood sliding in and out of her. Her nipples are tight, and her pussy feels even tighter in this position.
“You’re mine,” I tell her again.
“And you’re mine,” she says, fierce. I love this woman. I speed up, tapping her hard, watching her sweet round tits jiggle in time to the pace. She arches her back again and her toes curl, and she almost screams this time when she crests, her cunt squeezing my cock like a fist. I can’t ride the wave of her pleasure anymore—my aching dick finds release inside her, and stars burst behind my eyelids with the force of my relief.
After a while, I sit up and pull her onto my lap, happy to see my cream streaming out over her pink folds. So beautiful. So mine.
“So. What’s your verdict on married sex?” I ask her, caressing her lovely breasts.
“I say we should do it again, Mr. Sledd. My sexy Christmas lumberjack.”
Epilogue 2
Holly
December 15th
Eleven and a half months later
We’re open for the Christmas season!
The whole place looks great. We’ve finally got a fenced-in kids’ area with toys, and there’s now a coffee/hot chocolate bar, where you can select your drink of choice and there’s an array of add-ins like peppermint sticks and marshmallows. The guys worked really hard this past summer and got the tiny wedding chapel built, right next to the hay barn. It’s taken all fall to renovate the barn up to code for a reception building, and to put it in compliance with the health regulations for preparing food on-site.
Adam and Jackson are planning to put in a butterfly garden and some plantings next year, so we can offer more exciting opportunities for people to come out here and explore. Growing our market, I call it.
My favorite part of the new Sledd’s Winter Festival and Tree Farm is the
optional sleigh-ride/hayride service. Matilda and Ben, the old plowhorses, seem to love taking people out in the wagon, and when it snows, as it does sometimes here in the mountains, they’ll love pulling the sleigh. I love the thing. I was so excited to find it in the back of the barn amid all the Christmas decor and the detritus of farming. It took some cleaning up, and getting the runners waxed, and a new paint job, plus some furry blankets and rugs to keep people warm, but it’s perfect now. I can’t wait until we get snow!
It might come tonight. It’s been cloudy all day, and getting colder, and the sky has that fuzzy white look that just says “snow.” There’s that feeling in the air.
I’m busy with the Festival all the time now; I’m the manager. I run things. And I love it here.
I love it almost as much as I love my sexy, capable, devoted husband. Who is, right now, bundling up a gorgeous white pine that he has obviously just cut for the family with small kids who had two cups each of hot chocolate with marshmallows. He’s a little sweaty and sprinkled with sawdust, and he looks delicious.
He sees me staring, and gives me a wink. After the dad has paid me for the tree, they take off in their SUV, kids waving. And my beautiful, hard-working, gorgeous Adam comes over to claim me for a kiss.
“I hate to admit it, but I love that we decorate the trees near the barn now,” he tells me. “That was a really good idea of yours.”
“Oh yeah? Well, I have lots of good ideas.”
He pulls me into his arms. Nancy, passing by with more greenery to build garland with, wolf-whistles at us, and I roll my eyes. “It’s nearly 7 now, y’all,” she says. “Quittin’ time. I got beef-vegetable soup in the crockpot, and I want to get home before it snows.”
The sky has been dark for an hour now, and the lights on the trees are casting a romantic glow. I never see a lighted Christmas tree without thinking of the way Adam made love to me under ours on our wedding night. I lean my head on his muscular chest and slide my hands into his back pockets, feeling those good butt muscles there.
Dakota comes by and surrenders his chainsaw. “One last load of cut trees in the green pickup, sir and madam. We can set ‘em up tomorrow; it’s quitting time.”
“Last load?” I ask.
Adam smiles at me. “Quitting time, my queen. Ready to go home for dinner?”
We call easy goodbyes to Nancy, Dakota, and Jackson, and turn off the building lights. But I have something on my mind other than dinner. When all the vehicles are gone, I reach for Adam again.
As he holds me, he waves his hand at all the changes. “You’ve done it. All these changes, and we’re firmly in the black, and the place looks so great—because of you.” He kisses me deeply, sliding his tongue over my lower lip and making me catch my breath with desire. “Holly’s dream, come true.”
“And you. You were even more of a dream to me than the business,” I confess. “You and our family.”
He pulls his head back. “Our family?”
“Yes, babe. I’m pregnant.”
I’m not prepared for the whoop of joy that splits my eardrums. Or for the way he picks me up and swings me around.
Or for the first snowflake. “Look! It’s snowing!”
“Yeah, that’s cool, but we made a baby. We made a baby!” Adam spins me around again, in the flurry that’s rapidly becoming heavier. “I need to be inside you, Holly. Right now.”
And he carries me to the house that we plan to fill with children, at least six variations on him and me. To the bedroom, where we slide over and around and into each other, with the joy that comes from finding the mate of your dreams.
Sneak Peek: Christmas Presents
Read on for an excerpt from the next book in the Christmas Lumberjack series, Christmas Presents (available for pre-order now here)!
Cold weather, warm hearts, hot loving.
Noelle
Things had gotten tense at the pharmacy where I work, thanks to my creepy stalker. But when I took a break to visit Sledd’s Christmas Tree Farm and pick out my tree, I met the sexiest, sweetest guy—one of the Sledd brothers, exactly as buff and strong as you’d expect a Christmas lumberjack to be. He’s gorgeous and unselfish in bed and out, and I can’t wait to see him again.
Jackson
I’d gotten tired of spending my spare time away from the Christmas tree farm chasing skinny college girls, and when the woman of my dreams showed up one afternoon, I knew she was The One. We spent a glorious night together, but she’d gone off to work by the time I woke up. Now her coworkers are stonewalling me about where she is, and she’s not answering her phone. I just want my girl back.
Jackson
December 2
I look down the rows of Christmas trees and smile. It’s good to be outside today: blue sky, chill in the air, fresh breeze. The weekend is coming up, so we need to be ready for our heaviest business days of the year, with people wanting their fresh-cut trees and wreaths and garlands to decorate for the season. We’ll be open extra hours. It’s a great problem to have, when last year we weren’t sure if we could cover business expenses and also make enough money to pay ourselves for our labor.
I have such great memories of being here on the tree farm with my grandfather, when my brothers and I were kids, and I’m really glad we’ve been able to keep it going. We still offer precut trees as well as what my sister-in-law, the general manager, started making us call the “Christmas Lumberjack Experience,” when we go out with chainsaw and ax and cut whatever tree the customer wants before bringing it back in our classic old red pickup.
While I’m choosing and cutting trees, I’m getting pretty hot even in the cool air. I ditch my jacket and shirt and work just in my undershirt, feeling the sweat on my back. After I cut the last tree for the second truckload, I go even up the bottom cuts to make them stand straight when we get them upright on the stands at the shed. I text my brother Dakota to come help me load them.
I neaten up the trees I’ve cut by buzzing off the scraggly branches at the bottom. Miss Nancy, the older lady who helps us get through Christmas season, uses these to make wreaths and garlands, so I gather them up and toss them in the pickup bed for later retrieval. I’m cool now, so I’m putting my shirt back on when Dakota shows up in the other pickup. “Hey, thanks.”
“Hey back. You know, there are some fine young ladies back there at the shed, looking for a lumberjack,” he informs me. “Sorority girls maybe—just your type. Thought you might want to hightail it back there and show off your pecs, baby bro.”
I am surprised at the sinking feeling in my stomach. There was a time not so long ago that I would’ve jumped on that. I’ve pretty much spent the last several years chasing tail without commitment. I even got my own apartment close to the UT campus so I could pursue clubbing and frat parties and VSCO girls.
But lately, it just bores me. I haven’t even been to a single frat party this semester. “Probably not, man. I think I’m outgrowing that shit.”
He looks at me with his eyebrows up. Dakota’s the quiet one of us three brothers. He just wants us all to get along, and somehow he makes that happen. He’ll listen to me blather and complain, and he’ll listen to Adam fuss and worry, and then he’ll say something wise that makes us feel better. Now, he studies me and his face becomes serious. “I think I get you.”
“It just seems so … pointless.”
Dakota nods. “You’re tired of it not meaning anything. Which makes sense, now that Adam and Holly are doing that constant honeymoon thing in front of us all the time. They’re committed and they’re happy. Who wouldn’t want that?”
“Yeah,” I say slowly, thinking deliberately about a phenomenon that I must have noticed, without noticing that I was noticing it.
Adam the autocrat has chilled out considerably. He’s been so happy since he got married that it really shows. Who doesn’t want to be happy? I sure do.
I don’t know that I want to settle down and raise a ton of babies like Adam and Holly. But when I think abo
ut the future, there’s a woman at my side. A partner. I can’t picture her, but she’s there and I know she’d be awesome in every way I can think of. She’d be beautiful. Sexy. Smart. Fun. Someone to enjoy life with.
We load the trees to take back to the lot for sale, and we go back together.
Dakota helps me cut a tree for the sorority girls. He takes off his flannel jacket and long-sleeve shirt, winking at them. “Part of the service,” he says, and grins. I take the hint and pull mine off as well. We take turns chopping at the tree with axes, wearing just our thin undershirts. We’re sweating by the time we get the tree down and loaded in the pickup. As I expected, we get an invitation to their tree-decorating party, but I turn it down for both of us, saying that we’re busy, thanks. We get a ten-buck tip and lots of selfies taken with the girls, and for the first time I’m actually less interested in them than the satisfaction of having made their experience fun for them, not for me.
I’m picking up my shirt to put it on again when I see her, and my heart immediately goes into overdrive. She’s picking out a wreath and some locally-made cinnamon muffins, and chatting to Nancy. And this, as opposed to all those college girls with their samey-samey slender bodies, is a woman.
Thank You
Thank you so much for reading!
I hope you liked Holly Dreams. You, the person who read this book, are my hero. You make it all worthwhile for me, and you can make such a huge impact.
How? One word: review. One small review on this book’s Amazon page, two minutes of your time, would be so appreciated. I’d be enormously grateful! You can jump right to that page here.