Countdown to Christmas: (A Christmas Romance Novella)

by Betty Shreffler

  “Thanks for giving me a place to live and for being such a good friend all these years.”

  Warm hazel eyes hold my gaze, the affection I see in them surprising. He’s usually playful and cocky at work.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Over the rim of his glass, he watches me drink as he swallows his. Those warm hazel eyes widen, glance down at his glass, then return to me with a smile beneath them.

  “This is good. Really good.”

  “It’s an easy one too. My old roomie and I had a hobby of discovering mixed drink recipes for our movie night.”

  Taking another long drink, he lowers it and tips the glass toward me.

  “I think we need to carry on that tradition.”

  “I’d like that. How about you pick out the next mixed drink, and I’ll pick out the movie? She and I did cocktail movie nights on Friday if that works for you.”

  “It does, and I will.”

  “Good.” Taking another drink, I nod toward his room. “Would you like help unpacking?”

  “As long as you avoid the small blue box.”

  Setting my glass down, an impish grin curls my lips as I dash for his room, hearing his glass clink the counter as he bolts after me. Going around the island counter, he chases me down the hall and into his room. Leaning down and giggling as I reach for the box, strong arms wrap around me and scoop me up. Twirling me through the air, he lands on his back on the bed, still holding me in his arms. Laughter spills out of me as we roll around, my efforts to escape futile.

  “What’s in there?”

  Sitting us up, he keeps hold of me. I’m still on his lap and aware of how comfortable it feels. He doesn’t scoot me off or release me.

  “My private things.”

  “Like sexual things?”

  My hand is on his jean-covered thigh as his laugh rumbles his chest behind me.

  “Is that what you thought was in there?”

  “Yes.”

  Looking over my shoulder, there’s a flush in his cheeks, and he’s staring at my lips.

  “It’s not sex toys, even though I’m amused that was your first thought, you naughty girl.”

  “Well, I know how you are with the ladies.”

  I go to stand, but he pulls me back down onto his lap, and through my shirt, he caresses my stomach. Pleasured goosebumps pebble across my shoulders and arms.

  “How am I with the ladies?”

  “Skilled,” I chuckle.

  “That’s true, but I don’t think that’s what you meant.”

  The liquor is warming my body, and with the added touch of his caress, I’m craving more of his touch. Before things get carried away, I peel his arms from around my waist and approach one of the boxes.

  “You date more than I do, that’s all.”

  “Mmm-hmm.” His eyes narrow questioningly as his mouth twists up. “Soph, I don’t sleep with every woman I go on a date with. You know that, right?”

  Opening the box, I take out a stack of T-shirts and carry them to the tall dresser along the wall.

  “What you do or don’t do on your dates is none of my business. Which drawer?” I ask, pointing to the dresser.

  “Third one down.” Standing, he moves over to another box and opens it. Taking out boxers and briefs, he comes over to the dresser and puts them in the top drawer.

  “I think you believe I sleep with women far more than I do.”

  Going back to the same box, I gather a stack of shorts, sweatpants, and flannel pajama pants, and he points to the bottom drawer.

  “I don’t want to know about the women you’ve slept with.” The truth is, I don’t like thinking about him sleeping with any woman.

  “I’m not seeing anyone now, so you don’t have to worry about me breaking the no-dates-over rule.”

  There’s an excited flutter in my stomach. I shouldn’t like hearing he’s single that much.

  “How about you? Are you dating anyone?”

  He empties his box, flattens it, and sets it to the side. I hand him the empty one I have, and he starts breaking it down. Sitting on the floor, I reach for another box.

  “No, my dating life has sucked lately. None of the guys I’ve gone out with have interested me beyond the one date.”

  “Why haven’t we ever gone on a date?”

  The shock of his question freezes my movement; my hands hold the box flaps open as I look up at him, speechless.

  “When I started working for Mick three years ago, I thought there was something between us.”

  “I…” The memory of him thrusting into that pretty brunette flashes through my mind like it was yesterday, creating a knot in my stomach. “I thought there was too, then I happened to come to your office when you were having an office rendezvous with some chick.” I finish opening the box, avoiding his expression. “After that, my interest ended.”

  Glancing up, I catch the shock on his face. With red cheeks, he rubs a hand over the back of his neck.

  “Yeah, I can see how that would make you feel that way. I didn’t know you saw me.” Jaxson turns away from me, his eyes pinching closed before he reaches down and grabs another box.

  “If I hadn’t seen you, what would that have changed?”

  “Probably nothing,” he admits. “Not then, anyway. It’s different now.”

  “How so?” Rising to my feet, I take his stack of button-down shirts on hangers over to his closet.

  “Because now, I care for you.”

  My hand stops hanging the shirt currently in my hand. My head lowers and angles toward him as my heartbeat quickens.

  “I care for you too. You’re one of my best friends.”

  Jaxson steps into the closet doorway, blocking my exit.

  “You’re mine too.”

  Grazing his fingers over mine, he takes the hangers from my hand and hooks them on the bar. With him standing this close, his eyes centered on me, the warmth of his body and scent of his irresistible cologne assaulting my senses, the urge to feel his kiss is too much, too tempting. Putting a hand on his soft cotton shirt and firm chest, I create space and squeeze out of the closet.

  “I’m going to clean up the kitchen then take a shower. You good to handle the rest?”

  Jaxson’s head drops, and he sucks part of his lip between his teeth. “Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for helping me move in.”

  “Of course. If you need anything, let me know.”

  The moment I leave his room, I release the breath stuck in my lungs. Body still tingling, I keep thinking about his arms around me, him standing within kissable reach. I need to be more careful. Jaxson is a slippery slope I don’t want to fall down.

  Chapter 4

  Having finished making eggs, wheat toast, and a morning smoothie, I tap on Jaxson’s door to offer him breakfast.

  “Come in.”

  On the other side of the door, Jaxson is on the bare hardwood floor, doing pushups in workout shorts to music pumping out of his cell phone, sweat beading across his arms and back. It looks like he’s been in here doing cardio activities for a while this morning. With each up and down, his arms flex, showing off the contours of his tight, toned muscles in his arms, back, and chest. Leaning against the doorway, I suck my lip between my teeth as arousal stirs between my legs.

  “What’s up?”

  His voice snaps me out of my daze, and I shift my feet.

  “I made a high protein breakfast, and from the looks of your workout routine, that’s probably what you want.”

  “That’s perfect.”

  Using his fists as leverage, he brings his legs toward his knees and stands. Grabbing a towel that’s draped over the wooden footboard of his bed, he uses it to wipe the sweat off his face and the back of his neck. When he catches me staring, his mouth tilts sideways.

  “I’ll take a shower, then be out.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Sitting with my leg propped up on my white-washed dining chair, I watch the strangers pass by on the sidewalk below
, my smoothie in hand, and half empty. Jaxson enters the dining room in a pair of worn, comfortable-looking jeans and a graphic T-shirt that says:

  Bucket List

  1. Beer

  2. Ice

  Humored, my mouth curls, and I lower my leg to face him as he sits down in the chair opposite me. My table is a small, two-seat table next to the largest window in the apartment with a view of other buildings, and in the far-right corner, a glimpse of the city park. Around the window, I’ve hung flowerpots with dangling plants that give the apartment a lively, whimsical look and lift my mood.

  “Breakfast might be a little cold.”

  Jaxson gathers the fork and digs in, shrugging a shoulder.

  “I don’t mind.”

  After a forkful of eggs, he lifts the smoothie cup.

  “What’s in it?”

  “My own concoction. Spinach, kale, ginger root. Things like that. It’ll give you energy that’ll last all day.”

  Jaxson tips the cup and takes several swallows, finishing half the drink.

  “Not bad. If you show me what to put in it, I’ll take turns making it in the morning.”

  “I think having you as a roommate is going to work out.”

  “Good.” Jaxson leans back in his chair, stretching out his legs as he smiles. “I want it to work out.”

  His half-cocked grin creates a tingle in my belly. I feel warmth flooding my cheeks and look away. Lifting my drink, I empty the glass.

  “Do you have any plans today?”

  “I don’t. I’m unpacked, so I’m free. Do you have something in mind?”

  “I’d like to put up my Christmas tree and decorate it. You want to help?”

  Leaning forward, he rests his arms on the table. Below his T-shirt sleeve, his biceps flex, and I notice—too well.

  “I can’t promise I’ll do a good job, but yeah, I’d like to help.”

  After a quick clean up, he follows me to the storage closet between our rooms, and I drag out my Christmas tree box and two more boxes of ornaments and garland. Jaxson goes into the kitchen, retrieves a knife, and cuts the tape I have over the box. When it pops open, he chuckles at the white fluff that flies out, landing on his shirt and pants, remaining there like tiny, puffy ornaments.

  “I think we’re done here. The tree is decorated.”

  Giggling, I join him and start picking off the fluff balls. He watches me with fascination as I laugh and dust off his shirt.

  “I love your laugh.”

  My hand stops, and I glance up at him, seeing the affection in his eyes.

  “Every time I hear you laugh in your office it makes me smile.”

  I don’t know what to say. I’m imagining his handsome face smiling in his office when he hears me and the vision creates a flutter in my stomach.

  “I do the same thing when I hear yours. You and Mick must talk about some interesting things. I hear you two laugh a lot when you’re in his office.”

  “We do. He tells me things he probably doesn’t tell you.”

  “Like what?”

  Returning to the box on the floor, I sit down with my legs crossed while Jaxson finishes opening the tree box and pulls out the bottom of the tree. More white fluff scatters on the floor and sticks to his clothing, but he doesn’t care. He continues taking everything out and lays it in order of how he’s going to stack it.

  “Funny things his kids do and…”

  “And?” I press.

  “Some stuff about his married sex life. You can’t tell him I told you this.” He gives me a pointed look, and it sucks me in even more.

  “What?”

  “He and his wife are into some interesting role-playing.”

  “No way!” Chuckling, my mouth tilts. “Like what?”

  Jaxson puts the tree frame and bottom layer together as he laughs.

  “Like costumes and toys. Nurse and doctor. Firefighter and damsel in distress. Veterinarian and dog.”

  My eyes widen as my stomach rolls with laughter. “Veterinarian and dog? Who was the dog?”

  Jaxson looks at me sideways, his own smile widening as he watches me in a fit of laughter.

  “His wife wore the collar.”

  “Oh!”

  Jaxson reaches for the middle tree section. “Crazy, right? But they have a good time, and it spices things up for them.”

  “I won’t be able to look at him the same!”

  “You’ll have to. We did not have this conversation.” With a raised brow, he shoots me a stern look.

  “I won’t say a word. I’ll just be giggling every time I look at him for a week or so.”

  Jaxson sets the final section of the tree on the top as I open the first ornament box.

  “Where do you want it?”

  “In the corner there.” I point past the couch, between the electric fireplace on the wall and the large window on the right.

  Leaning down, he reaches into the branches, gathers the plastic trunk near the bottom and top, then carries the six-foot tree the few feet over. Picking up the box, I join him.

  “Have you ever done anything like that?”

  “Role-playing?” he laughs. “Not like that. I’ve enjoyed some toys and accessories, but not any costumes or character play.”

  Pulling out the garland, I hand him the bundle as I search for the end.

  “What kind of toys and accessories?”

  His brow lifts.

  “You really want to know?”

  Curiosity might get me into trouble, but I’m too invested to turn back now.

  “Yes.”

  “Scarves, ties, cuffs, and a few other things.”

  “What are some of those other things?”

  Jaxson watches me, studying my features. Whatever he’s thinking makes him grin.

  “Vibrators, other sex toys, lotions, whipped cream, chocolate syrup.”

  I bite my lip, and his gaze goes straight to my mouth.

  “Have you ever used any of those?” The color in his eyes seems a shade darker, glossier, and I’m almost certain this is what he looks like when he’s aroused—carnal, sexy, and damn near irresistible.

  “Yes.”

  “What things have you used?”

  “Just about all of those.”

  He rakes a hand down his face, his eyes widening.

  “You know that’s hot, right? Not all women are adventurous in the bedroom.”

  Finding the end of the garland, I tuck it into the lower branches and begin winding it around the tree.

  “Sounds like you like sexually adventurous women.”

  “I do. Anything wrong with that?”

  “Not at all. There are women who enjoy being with a sexually adventurous man.”

  Jaxson follows me around the tree, feeding me garland as we circle around it.

  “Do you?”

  Moving back a step, I catch his lascivious stare.

  “Yes.”

  There’s a pause before he stuffs the bundle of garland from his hands into the tree.

  “I can’t do this anymore.”

  My brows pinch inward. “Can’t do what?”

  “Pretend we don’t want each other.”

  A solid hand wraps around my waist, pulling me to him as his lips crash into mine. Any thoughts are obliterated the moment my body ignites, his dominant masculinity and need drawing out my desire. Lifting my legs, he turns us, putting me against the wall. Arousal throbs at my center, my body betraying me with its aching need for him. Pressing his erection against me, I moan into his mouth, and he pushes harder, giving my body more of what it wants. Clasping my hands in his, he pins them to the wall as his thrusts continue, tipping my need for him from pleasure to sweet agony.

  “Your room or mine?”

  Those words drag me down from my clouded bliss.

  “We can’t.”

  Pushing at his chest, he allows my legs to drop and keeps an arm around me as his brows dip, and the lines around his mouth tighten.

  “Wh
at’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want to ruin our friendship. All it takes is one night, then it’ll get awkward between us.”

  The caress of his hand along my cheek kindles the arousal between my legs. My body is too needy for his touch, too quick to surrender.

  “It doesn’t have to be like that.”

  “I don’t want a friend with benefits arrangement. I’m sorry.”

  Stepping away from him, I hear him release a weighted sigh behind me. Going into my room, I close the door and lean against it. Sliding down the frame, I curl my knees to my chest. For years, I’ve wanted him, but all I ever wanted was to be the only woman he was interested in. After watching the women come and go, I knew I would never be more than an office fling, and my heart would never heal from that.

  Tears fill my eyes, wishing I hadn’t let him room with me or let the kiss go as far as it did. Now he knows how much my body wants him, and now, I’ll have to be more careful.

  Chapter 5

  After a couple hours reading an eBook in bed, I leave my bedroom to pee and find Jaxson sprawled out on the couch with a paperback book in his hand. Lowering the book, he watches me go into the kitchen and put water in the tea kettle.

  “Are you still mad at me?”

  After turning the stove on, I pass the Christmas boxes and sit in the armchair next to the couch. He’s giving me those puppy dog eyes that always win my forgiveness.

  “I’m not mad at you. You mean a lot to me. I don’t want to lose my best friend, awesome new roommate, and favorite co-worker over meaningless sex.”

  A frown pulls at his lips below the hurt in his eyes.

  “Is that what you think? That you don’t mean anything to me?”

  “I know you care about me as a friend, but it’s different for women. We get emotionally invested when we have sex. It’s easier for men to have sex with no strings.”

  Swinging his legs over the edge of the couch, he sets the book next to him.

  “Come here.” Taking hold of my wrist, he tugs me out of the chair, and with a hand on my hip, he lowers me onto the couch with my legs dangling over his.

  “I don’t want to do anything that upsets you or ruins our friendship either. You mean more to me than you realize. I get that you don’t want to have sex, and I respect that, but I still want us to be comfortable around each other… and maybe kiss every once in a while.” A wolfish grin curls the corner of his mouth.