by Maisey Yates
A father. What does that even mean when you find out when you are thirty-four years old?
What did it mean at all? He hadn’t been there for anything. He hadn’t been there to help Jericho when everything had fallen apart.
Whether or not it was his choice didn’t really matter, because the end result was the same.
And joining the family now... It was kind of the ninth inning. He didn’t need their support. Not anymore.
He figured out how to get along. He figured it out on his own. That he felt compelled to go... Well, maybe it was a good thing that he hit a snowstorm.
After all, he was here, naked with Honey, rather than dealing with the awkwardness of the family situation.
“We need a Christmas tree,” she whispered.
“A Christmas tree?” There was weight that came with that, baggage and pain that he didn’t want to think about now.
But Honey wanted a Christmas tree, and he found that he wanted to please her. It was such a strange sensation. One lost way back in time.
“Yes, Jericho,” she said, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “So that we can have a Merry Christmas.”
“I didn’t get you anything,” he said.
She laughed. “I think you did.”
“Well, I’m not the kind of man who would say that a couple of orgasms for me were a gift.”
That made her howl, slapping the surface of the water. “Since when?”
“All right, I am.” Something sincere rose up inside of him, and he didn’t quite know what to do with it. It was just that... For her that didn’t seem like enough. He wanted there to be more. He wanted to give her something, and the impulse felt strange and foreign. The impulse felt undeniable.
It was the strangest damn thing.
“All right, how about a Christmas tree then? And maybe I can find a really pretty rock to wrap up for you.”
“And what will you wrap it in?” she asked, smiling sweetly.
He smiled back, but it was wicked. “Maybe some of those lace panties that you brought.”
She snickered, readjusting herself, her bottom moving over his growing arousal. He really needed to give her a break. She had been a virgin. And it was very likely that she could be sore.
If you had gotten her a nice enough gift, you might not have felt so guilty about her being sore.
Well, damn. That didn’t say great things about them, but it was true. Because he wanted her again, soreness or not.
“All right,” he said. “I’d rather see you in the panties. Though, I’d also rather see you out of them.”
“That is something I don’t really understand about lingerie,” she said. “Are you supposed to dress up in another room and make a grand entrance? And then you just put it on so it gets taken off thirty seconds later.”
“You could put it on in front of me right now, take it off fifteen seconds later, and I would still think the whole thing was worth it, because it was just all staring at you.”
Her cheeks went red. “Really?”
“Yes. Because you’re so damn hot I can hardly deal with myself.”
“Wow.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Just...” She looked up at him with wide, sincere eyes that damn near broke his heart. “You really do think I’m hot?”
That question, so artless, sat like a weight in his chest, along with Christmas trees. “I really do. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t think it.”
“How long?”
“Why do you need to know how long?”
She turned over, a slippery mermaid in his arms, then rested her forearms against his chest and looked up at him. “I need to know because I have had the biggest crush on you for most of my life, all the while wanting to hit you over the head with the nearest blunt object. You are both my favorite and least favorite person to be around, often during the same conversation. And I have felt like a fool for feeling that way this whole time.”
That admission stole his breath. He was older, and he might not have felt that way about her back when she did, but it wasn’t because she wasn’t...wonderful. It was because of their age gap. “Why did you feel that way? Like you were foolish for wanting me?”
“Because I just never thought that I was all that interesting or pretty or anything of the kind. I always felt a little bit on the outside in school. And I tried not to, but... I did. Beatrix Leighton gave me a mouse once. When we were in kindergarten. I kept him as a pet for three years. I thought that was one of the nicest things anyone ever did for me. I think she was about the closest I ever got to feeling like somebody might understand me. But she was usually nursing animals back to health and not doing anything social. But I just always felt like I didn’t really fit. And...”
“I think everybody feels that way sometimes.”
“Yeah?”
He smiled. “There aren’t a whole lot of people who look like me around here.”
“No, I know,” she said. She looked away.
“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. It’s fine that you don’t just think of it. But it is true. I get it. I know what it’s like to feel different. But I also know what it’s like to find people who get you. Who see past the obvious surface things and know you. Understand you.”
“I don’t know if anyone’s ever actually understood me. I mean, my dad, Creed and Jackson, they all lost my mother, just like I did. And you lost your mother. You’re about the closest anyone could ever come to understanding exactly what I’ve been through. But I think the thing that gets me is that... Or maybe I’m not very good at making myself understood. I’m just... I’m upset at how much this is my fault, I guess. I was mad at my dad, I am mad at him, but you’re right. He wouldn’t hurt me on purpose. I feel all these things and no one seems to know, and I don’t know how to fix it. Except...you I just talk to.”
“I’m glad, Honey,” he said. “Your dad does care about you though. He knew I wouldn’t get rid of you.” He slid his hand down her arm. “I was never going to throw you out on the street or take your job away.”
He was callous sometimes, and he knew that. His life had made him that way. But he’d never do anything to intentionally hurt Honey.
“But working for you isn’t exactly the same as having a real career, is it? It’s not the same as what I thought I was working toward. I guess that I somehow managed to never really... That he never considered it... I don’t know. I just feel so desperately like maybe no one’s ever known me, and maybe I don’t show who I am enough. I’ve always felt like I was really honest. About who I was and what I wanted, but you know, I hid wanting you the whole time. Really well. Maybe I’m just hiding. Maybe it’s a whole lot of hiding.”
“Hey,” he said. “We’re all hiding. The fact of the matter is... We’ve been almost like family this whole time.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Gross.”
“Well, it’s true. And for family you put on a little bit of a performance. Because there’s parts of yourself that you gotta keep quiet. It’s just...what you do. It’s just how you navigate things. At least... That’s my experience of family. I never wanted my mom to know how difficult it was for me when she was sick. So I hid that. Because I had to be strong.”
He wanted to talk to her, and he didn’t much ever want to talk to anyone. But maybe it was what she’d said. About being misunderstood. Maybe that was why. Maybe he wanted to find ways they could understand each other.
She nodded. “Maybe that’s it. I’m so used to hiding what I want, because I wanted a lot of things that my dad couldn’t give me. And I never wanted to make him sad. So I just... I kind of bump along and pretend everything is great. Even when it isn’t.”
“It is not too late,” he said. “Obviously, there’s no question of you going to see Donavan now.”
“I took a job from him, Jericho. He needs at le
ast time to find a replacement.”
“You aren’t touching him.”
She looked shocked. “No, of course I wouldn’t.”
He didn’t have the right to make that statement, not when they were supposed to just be...for the blizzard. But still. He couldn’t stand the thought. It made him see red.
“I’m willing to sell you part of the winery.”
And hell, there were layers of complications now. But this... This thing between them, it was only for the blizzard. It was only for the blizzard.
“You will?”
“Yeah,” he said.
Because somewhere along the way the reason that he had wanted the winery, that desperate desire to claim his place in the valley, in the family... It had faded a little bit. Because he could see now that Honey wanted the same thing. And he didn’t want to take it from her.
He would have, before this. Because what he wanted had felt more important, but it just didn’t anymore.
“I’d like that. I mean, I have money. From the sale. We’re just kind of passing it back and forth.”
“You can make payments on a bigger part of the winery, if you want. Because otherwise you’re only getting a fifth.”
“I’ll consider it. I’ll buy a fifth, and then we’ll see. If I want to pursue a bigger share, I will after that.”
“That sounds a good plan.”
“Can we get the Christmas tree now?”
“Yes,” he said. “Bundle up. We’ll go get a Christmas tree now.”
* * *
By the time they got out of the tub and dressed, twilight had fallen. This single day had felt like four days. And Honey felt a little bit like she was in a daze. But the good kind.
Being with him had been... Transformative. She felt transformed.
She wasn’t going to tell him that, because his ego was healthy enough without her stoking the flames, but it was true.
They didn’t have to go far into the woods to find a decent tree, and Jericho chopped it down, then slung it over his shoulder to carry back. As he walked, icy little droplets fell from the tree and hit Honey in the face, but she didn’t mind. She felt...renewed.
She was going to be able to buy a piece of the winery. She and Jericho were...
Something twisted in her stomach. Nothing, you’re nothing.
Right. Of course. They weren’t anything. They were just... For the blizzard.
The snow had eased up, no longer falling in large fat flakes and piling up higher and higher. Still, it was so cold it wouldn’t be going anywhere for a while.
Before they went back to the cabin, Jericho walked to the truck and confirmed that it was still blocked in.
She laughed as he shook the tree out when they got to the porch, and then leaned it up against the wall in the living room, because there was no tree stand.
Honey found string and some popcorn kernels, which she popped on the stovetop in a big Dutch oven, and the two of them worked at making popcorn strings by lantern light, which then led to a contest to see who could make the most innocuous household object into a tree decoration.
In the end, their monstrous masterpiece included several ceramic figurines, a tinfoil star up on the very top and, possibly silliest of all, some perfume bottles hung from the branches by string, which ended up twinkling merrily in the lantern light and giving the entire thing a cheerfully strange effect.
“Without a doubt, the weirdest ass Christmas tree I have ever seen,” Jericho said, taking a step back and putting his arm around her. The casual touch was so strange. How odd to have gone from existing in a space where it felt like there was a wall between them physically, to this moment, where they had now bathed together, and he was touching her like she was his...
She wasn’t anything. She was just Honey.
She looked up at him, at his sculpted face, the firelight illuminating his brown skin. His dark eyes glittered there, his square jaw rough with black stubble, his lips... Well, now she knew what they tasted like. And what they felt like when they tasted her.
How could she ever go back to a time when she didn’t know that? Where he wasn’t hers anymore? To touch and do with as she pleased. How could she ever bear it?
You’ve borne a lot of things. You’ll just have to bear this too.
She had more than she had when she’d first set out on this trip. She lost her virginity and she secured a job. It just wasn’t what she’d been planning.
It was better.
She’d gotten what she wanted.
She wanted him physically, and nothing more.
And if the thought of that made her ache now... That was her own problem. It certainly wasn’t his.
“It is indeed. But it’s nice.”
They lit a fire in the hearth there, and Jericho brought furs down from upstairs and spread them over the floor while Honey gathered together some cheeses, cured meats and crackers for a cheese board. There was even a glass of wine, and all up, the entire thing felt nearly sophisticated.
“I didn’t imagine that being off-grid could be so glamorous.”
“Helped very much by the fact that the generator runs some indoor plumbing,” he pointed out.
“Well. There is that.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not much glamour to be had with an outhouse.”
“No indeed.”
They settled into each other, into the moment. The furs soft and warm, the fire crackling in the hearth. It felt safe, right. She felt safe. To say what she needed to. To feel what she needed to.
The thought made her heart feel pierced, because her emotions had felt too big and wrong from the time she was a girl.
From back when her father had been so upset with her grief, and she had nearly drowned in it. And she’d learned to put it away because she’d had to.
“I never knew what to do about you,” she said, her chest feeling tender. She shouldn’t talk about this. Except, maybe it would help. Maybe it would explain things. Because she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that she had a future with Jericho, and she never had been. It was just that... She knew him. And there was something about desiring him that had felt both dangerous and safe at the same time. And maybe that was it. Maybe that was all it was. Because she hadn’t had a mother to talk to her about those things...
“You were this...teenage boy that came into the house and you weren’t my brother. And you made me feel all kinds of things and they were scary. I’ve never really had anyone I could talk to about this. Some casual friends at school when I was kind of on the outskirts of a couple of different groups. But I never really felt like I could share with them. I never really wanted to. It felt too... Precarious, I guess. I didn’t know how I was going to explain to the girls in my class that I was more interested in a boy in his twenties than a boy my age. And I didn’t really want to... I don’t know. Maybe it’s just that you’ve always felt safe.”
“Safe?” he questioned, lifting his brows.
“You know. Not in a beige kind of way, but in a... I’ve always had a lot of feelings, and I’ve always been around men. And the way that men do feelings. And so I’ve always had to be really careful... Or I felt like I did. Because I wanted to fit in and I wanted to be understood, but at the same time I didn’t want my brothers or my dad to think that I was dramatic. And I didn’t... I dunno, maybe keeping my sexual attraction type feelings down to somebody like you was... Because I could talk to you, always. Even with all of that. Because our relationship has always been... Sure, we fight and things like that, but it’s always been important. And kinda special. And...”
“You’ve been lonely for a long time, haven’t you?”
The words were far too incisive, and they hit Honey right where she lived.
“Yeah,” she said. “I guess so.”
“Well, we can talk.”
“We’ve always bee
n able to talk,” she said. “I mean, that’s what I’m saying.”
“You did not tell me about the way you felt about the winery.”
“Yes, I did. I just waited too long to do it. But you were still the first person that I told.”
He shook his head. “Honey, you should’ve talked to me sooner.”
“And what would you have said?”
He looked at her, long and hard. “That I was buying it. And you were out of luck.”
“Yeah, I thought so.”
“I feel differently about it now though.”
“Oh please don’t... Please don’t be trading my virginity for a fifth of the winery.”
He recoiled. “No,” he said. “That’s not it. It’s talking to you. It’s talking to you and understanding where you’re coming from. What you want. It’s actually listening. Which, I’m embarrassed to say, hasn’t always been my strong point.”
“Well, mine either. Which you know.”
“Here we are. Listening.”
She looked up at him, and her happiness suddenly felt so big that it threatened to overflow, and with that came a sense of wonder so big it threatened to burst from her mouth in the form of a song or a laugh or... Declarations that she wouldn’t even really mean.
She didn’t know if it was the wine making her a little bit tipsy or if it was just...him.
“This is the Maxfield label,” she said. She shook her head. “So basic.”
“The wine or the fact that they have it?”
“Regrettably, the wine is complex and lovely,” she said.
“It is,” Jericho said. “Not like my wine. Our wine.” He shook his head. “This is some surreal stuff.”
“What is?”
“I guess it’s the same moment that you had up in the tub earlier. Us. Sitting here together. Drinking wine. I own a winery. Same as I don’t know how I got from that boy to here.”
“I do,” she said. “You worked hard. I mean, you more than worked hard. You worked like there was a demon on your back.”
“Yeah. I guess I did.”
“And this is what you’ve earned. You know, less my fifth.”