Winter Love

by Kennedy Fox

  That made two of them.

  Chapter Eight

  Chelsea’s bed was empty when she woke up, but the scent of coffee and the sound of happy whistling reassured her that Ben hadn’t gone far.

  She dashed to the bathroom and fixed her frightful hair, and brushed her teeth. Then she joined him in the kitchen, where he was reading an article on his phone, wearing nothing other than a low-slung pair of gray sweats. He must have gone next door for a change of clothes and come back to make her coffee.

  A girl could get used to the way his gaze burned as soon as she appeared, the way he caught her in both arms and pulled her right up against him, like he’d missed the way she fit against his body.

  The good morning kiss was long, and the hug even longer.

  “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

  She shook her head. “Nope.”

  “I get up pretty early. Hope you don’t mind I helped myself to some coffee.”

  “What’s mine is yours.” She accepted the mug he handed her. “Especially when you have this ready for me when I was up.”

  He grabbed a piece of note paper from the counter, but not before she read it.

  Gone back to my place to shower, I’ll be back soon to make you coffee.

  She caught his hand, set down her mug, and pushed up on her toes to lay a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Are you really this sweet?”

  He leaned back against the counter and plastered her against his front, his hands dropping to cup her ass. “I’m not sweet.”

  “That was a thoughtful note.”

  “Self-preservation.” He shrugged it off and kissed her, so she let it go. After a tingle-inducing mini-make-out session, they finished their coffee on the couch.

  As she got up to refill her mug, Chelsea caught sight of her phone, abandoned the night before on the coffee table.

  Three text messages from her sister waited once she typed in her passcode. Two were from the night before.

  Hannah: Isn’t tonight the end of the class? Did you make your move?

  Hannah: I hope you’re ignoring me because you’ve convinced him to go back to your place for a private session.

  The third was from this morning.

  Hannah: Happy Christmas Eve Eve.

  Chelsea decided to reward the restraint and text her sister back.

  Chelsea: How are the future in-laws?

  Hannah: Enough about me, have you kissed the naked man yet?

  Chelsea: Oh yes.

  Hannah: WHAT. Can I call you?

  Chelsea: I’m not alone.

  Hannah: He slept over?

  Chelsea: I don’t kiss and tell. But he had coffee waiting for me when I woke up.

  Hannah: I knew it. I knew he liked you. I can’t wait to tell this story at your wedding.

  Chelsea: Gotta go. Happy Christmas Eve Eve to you, too.

  She put her phone on airplane mode to ensure no more text messages came in until she was emotionally prepared to read them, then went to the kitchen for more caffeine. When she came back, Ben was standing, looking at the collection of framed pictures over her craft nook. She joined him.

  “Is this your family?” He ran his finger over a picture from a few Christmases ago. The whole gang in Santa hats and bathing suits in her parents’ backyard.

  “Yep.”

  “Do they live nearby?”

  “My parents are in Carlsbad.”

  “So close, but not too close.”

  She laughed. “Pretty much. My sister’s in San Diego, and my brothers…” She trailed off. He hadn’t asked for the whole saga.

  But maybe he wanted it. “Sounds like there’s a story there?”

  She shrugged. “I’m the third of four kids. Two older brothers, and a younger sister—you met her briefly, Hannah. Both of my brothers moved away for work, and they’re both expecting babies this winter. My parents are over the moon, and have embarked on a massive road trip to see both expectant moms—and have a little holiday of their own, too. They haven’t even given a return date, which is fine.”

  “And Hannah?”

  “She went to her boyfriend’s family’s cabin in Lake Tahoe. She’s gone for two weeks, and I’m thrilled for her—they’re getting serious, and this is a big step. But I’m a little mopey going from…” She pointed to the pool picture. “That, to this.”

  And then she realized how that sounded, and groaned. “Except this is a lot of fun, too.”

  Ben just chuckled. He pointed to another photo, where Chelsea was posed in front of the Eiffel Tower. And she wasn’t alone. “Is this one of your brothers?”

  She groaned and covered her face with her hands. “That’s an ex. Really ex, we broke up a year ago. I just really liked that trip, and it wasn’t a bad break-up. And now I’m rambling.”

  “He looks like a nice guy.”

  Taking a deep breath, she looked up just in time to catch a weird look flitting over Ben’s face. “He’s a fellow teacher. Not at my school. But that’s the type I usually date. People I meet through work and social activities.” She gestured up and down his torso, her cheeks turning pink. “I guess on that point, you’re quite on brand.”

  “So you don’t usually pick up Navy SEALs?”

  She felt her eyes go wide. “No.”

  The corner of Ben’s mouth quirked into a smile. “Good.”

  “You didn’t say you were a SEAL before.”

  “Didn’t I?”

  She shook her head.

  “People can be weird about it.”

  That didn’t surprise her. “I’ll try my best not to be.”

  He looped his arm around her shoulders and tugged her in close. “I bet you won’t,” he murmured, his lips against her temple. “You’re pretty cool, Chels.”

  After a conversation that bumped from awkward to more awkward, that he thought so was a miracle. “Right back at you.”

  He stroked his hand up and down her spine. “What’s on your agenda today?”

  “I was thinking of going in search of a Christmas tree.”

  Ben looked around skeptically. “A tiny one?”

  “A full-size one,” she protested. “I can move some furniture, it’ll be fine.”

  “Can I help? I’ve got a truck. Very good for carrying a full-size tree home.”

  Ben would have driven Chelsea anywhere she wanted to go, but after they did a quick internet search, it turned out there was a pop-up tree stand on Orange Ave.

  They walked down to it, but the selection wasn’t great.

  “We’re getting more trees in a few hours,” the sales guy said. “Come back around two, I can save you a good one.”

  “I want one that’s tall and skinny,” Chelsea said, giving him her name. “Promise me.”

  The guy gave her a smile that said he’d promise her anything she wanted, and Ben wrapped his arm around Chelsea’s waist. She’s mine, he wanted to yell as he pounded his fists on his chest, which was a bizarre feeling since they’d only met five days earlier.

  As they strolled away from the tree stand, in the direction of Hotel Coronado, Chelsea confessed she’d always wanted to try the ice skating.

  “Let’s do it,” Ben said, eager to make up for the lack of a tree selection.

  But when they got to the hotel, it turned out all the spots were fully booked—for the next few days.

  “Bummer.” Chelsea brushed it off, but Ben knew it really was a bummer for her. She’d already lost her usual family Christmas, and now the two things she’d wanted the most weren’t actually easy to make happen.

  “Why don’t we go and get my truck, and do a drive to other tree farm locations?”

  She shook her head. “I like the idea of carrying a tree back to my apartment from that pop-up stall. It’s going to be okay.” She slid her fingers through his. “Come on, let’s just go for a walk. It’s a gorgeous day.”

  They crossed the street and headed back in the direction of their apartment. But as they passed a gastropub popular wit
h guys from the base, someone shouted his name from the patio.

  Chelsea glanced up at him, and he made a face. “How would you feel about meeting some of my friends? We don’t have to stay long.” He paused, then clarified what he really wanted. “I would love to introduce you to them.”

  Her face split into a happy smile. “Sounds like fun.”

  It was Cade who had called out his name, but he wasn’t the only SEAL at the table. On the other side of Cade’s wife Mel was Kent, and when Ben paused momentarily at the sight of the man who’d inadvertently brought him and Chelsea together, Chelsea just squeezed his hand.

  “Hey everyone,” Ben said. “This is Chelsea. Chelsea, this is Cade, we work together, and his wife Mel, and our buddy Kent. He’s a SEAL, too, but on a different team.”

  “Hey, I know you.” Kent clicked his fingers at Chelsea. “Where do I know you from?”

  Chelsea shrugged innocently. “I think I just have one of those faces. I’m a math teacher.”

  “I don’t know any teachers…” Kent frowned.

  “Well, I’m also Ben’s new neighbour,” she said. That wasn’t a lie, and Ben was impressed by her misdirection. “We kept bumping into each other—”

  “Like every day.” Ben looped his arm around Chelsea and tugged her into his side. That felt good. “So we took the note from the universe.”

  “Sometimes life is like that,” Mel said, her eyes sparkling. “Have you guys had brunch? We just ordered.”

  “We have not.” Ben pulled out a chair for Chelsea, and as she sat down, he leaned in and brushed his lips against her ear. “So you’ve seen Kent butt naked, I’m guessing?”

  She turned and waggled her eyebrows.

  He smothered a laugh, then sat next to her.

  They grabbed some menus, and after the waitress took their order, Chelsea leaned in and whispered, “I’m not worried if Kent figures it out. He won’t say anything to the art studio, right?”

  “Our secret is safe with him,” Ben murmured back.

  She looked pleased at that. “Good. Then if he figures it out, it’s just a funny story.”

  To tell our grandkids, Ben added in his head. That was the whole saying. It’ll be a funny story to tell their grandkids one day.

  But his buddy didn’t bring up the recognition again, and when their food arrived, Kent headed out, leaving just the two couples to have brunch together.

  The food was great, but the conversation was even better, flowing back and forth with ease until their plates were cleared away.

  “Another round of coffee?” Mel asked, getting up and moving her seat to be closer to Chelsea.

  Chelsea clapped her hands together. “Absolutely.”

  Ben could get used to this. He rubbed his fingers up and down the bare stretch of her neck. “I could sit here for a while. We’re waiting for more Christmas trees to arrive at the stand down the street.”

  “We got one there yesterday,” Mel exclaimed. “It smells so good.”

  “They’re re-stocking at two this afternoon,” Chelsea said. “So we’ve got some time to kill.”

  Cade stretched his arms wide, then grunted at Ben. “Hey, how’s the search for your stuff going?”

  Ben shot him a warning look. Cade glanced sideways at Chelsea, who was buried in conversation with Mel. She doesn’t know? his friend mouthed.

  Ben shook his head.

  Was it weird he hadn’t told Chelsea about the moving debacle? They had just met. He’d find a way to bring it up later. It was another funny story, that was all.

  When they got back to the pop-up tree stand, fresh trees were being unloaded off a truck. Chelsea did a happy dance, which made Ben and the sales guy both laugh.

  There were a few kinds to pick from, of varying heights, and the sales guy pointed her to one type of tree that exactly fit her description. “It’s a skinny tree, will fit anywhere, and it’s a good price point,” he said, proud that he’d remembered everything she’d said.

  He was doing his job, trying to make the customer happy.

  But Chelsea had fallen in love with a big, blue Douglas fir the second she’d seen it being hauled off the truck. It reminded her of Christmas trees from her childhood, of driving to Colorado to see her grandparents.

  It reminded her of snow, and family.

  “This is the one I want,” she said, not caring about the higher price tag.

  Ben popped the monster of a tree onto his shoulders like it weighed nothing, and Chelsea paid up.

  Ben even whistled a Christmas song on the walk home.

  It was perfectly festive, right up until the stood the tree up in her apartment and cut the twine off of it—and the branches filled the entire space between her couch and her craft nook and her TV.

  “It’s too big.” Chelsea sagged, her disappointment an impossible weight on her shoulders. And her heart. “Of course it is.”

  “We can move…” Ben glanced at her couch, and her coffee table, and her craft corner, and her desk. “What about your bedroom?”

  That would never work. “My bed is too big.”

  He didn’t miss the opportunity to give her a sizzling appraisal. “It sure is.”

  She laughed out loud. “That was just a tease to make me think about sex instead of this foolish purchase, wasn’t it?”

  “Did it work?”

  She preferred the flirtatious banter to the sad feeling that she’d missed the mark on a perfect Christmas, so she grabbed his hand and tugged him in that direction. The bedroom that had felt so off-limits just two days before.

  It wasn’t off-limits anymore, and if she’d just wasted a hundred dollars on a tree, she was going to make up for it by getting laid again.

  But Ben stopped her. “I have a better idea.”

  “Better than sex?”

  He paused for a beat. “Okay, I have two ideas, and one of them is sex.”

  “I’m in. What’s the other idea?”

  “How would you feel about putting your Christmas tree in my apartment?” He looked nervous making the suggestion, but Chelsea clapped her hands together.

  That was a genius idea. “Do you have room for it?”

  Chapter Nine

  Ben should have explained the situation sooner. It was weird now, and he’d opened his mouth without thinking it through, because she’d looked sad and he just wanted to make it better.

  But was putting her dream Christmas tree in an empty apartment making anything better?

  “Ben?” Chelsea blinked at him expectantly.

  “Yep, lots of room.” Why the heck not? He gave the prickly tree a big bear hug, to get the branches in tight enough to make it through two doors. “My key is in my pocket, if you’ll be so kind.”

  “An elaborate ruse to get me to grope you,” Chelsea whispered as she slithered her fingers into his jeans.

  He shook with laughter. “We’ll see if you want to grope me again in a minute.”

  She led the way, opening her door, then his.

  And then nothing. She just stood there, in the doorway to his apartment, taking full stock of his shameful existence. And she said nothing.

  “Chels, I’ve got an arm full of tree here, so do you want to…”

  “Right. Sorry.” She scooted out of the way, and he followed her inside.

  She did a slow circle as he set up the tree in the middle of the room. “It’s a bit Spartan.”

  He shoved his hand through his hair. “I know it’s empty, and that’s weird.”

  “Do you…need furniture?”

  “I own furniture.” He made a face. “It’s a long story, and not at all festive.”

  “I’m the person who just paid way too much for a tree that can’t even fit in my own apartment. If you have a sob story, it would make me feel a heck of a lot better.”

  He laughed, then gestured at the tree. “Shall we decorate it while we exchange the raw, unvarnished truths of our sad lives?”

  “Sounds like a plan.” She grabbed the fr
ont of his shirt and hauled him in for a kiss. “Thank you,” she whispered against his lips.

  She was thanking him?

  What had he done to deserve that?

  Chelsea darted back to her apartment, ignoring her spiraling thoughts. Sure, it seemed like Ben was sleeping on the floor of his apartment with nothing more than a quilt and a backpack, and a Rubbermaid tote bin was his desk.

  It definitely seemed like that was the extent of his current situation, and that was…

  That was sad.

  There was a story, she knew he would share it, and this whole time she had been moping about not being with her family.

  Maybe he’d been robbed.

  Maybe he’d had a house fire.

  Oh no.

  Grabbing the bin of Christmas decorations she had spirited out of her parents’ home, she returned to what she would now think of as The Tree Ballroom.

  And Ben could sleep in her bed until he sorted out his furniture problem.

  He was waiting for her knock, and honestly looked a little relieved she’d returned. Why wouldn’t she? He was holding her beautiful Douglas fir hostage, after all.

  Chelsea Jane, do not think about him holding anyone hostage. At least his apartment walls aren’t covered in conspiracy theory dioramas.

  “You aren’t a serial killer, right?” The question just slipped out.

  He grinned. “That would be a real Christmas bummer, so no. I’m not.”

  “Excellent.” She set the bin down. “I like to do lights first, yes?”

  “Only a serial killer would argue anything else. Yes, lights first.” He caught her by the waist and spun her around in a circle. “Chels?”

  “Mmm?”

  “Ask me why I’m sleeping on the floor.”