Love 2 Jingle U: A Sweet Vine Christmas Romance

by Alexandra Silva

  “Because I’m not a festive movie nerd—I travel a lot, and I watch a lot of movies on my flights.”

  “In your fancy private jet.” She sticks her tongue out at me, and I bite the tip before sucking it into my mouth.

  Slipping my fingers into her hair, I kiss her as deeply as I can, savoring every hum. We’ve been holed up together for a week, but it feels as though I know her better than seven days would allow and dread parting with her as though we’ve only just met. Like I’m still trying to woo her, to give her reason to give me her time, even though she’s never withheld her attention from me or played me to get anything from me. It’s all so natural with her, nothing like any connection I’ve had before.

  “I told you, you’re welcome to join me on my fancy jet. I can introduce you to the mile-high club.” I lick over her lips, twisting her hair around my fist while palming her ass with my other hand. “Think of all the ways I could make you come on a nine-hour flight. No stopovers. No weird passengers. All the champagne you can drink…”

  “Probably served by an air hostess that will have me question why you would ever want to fuck me.”

  “I don’t shit where I eat, Amelia. I have rules that I don’t break for anyone.” Except for her. She’s great at demolishing every barrier I’ve ever put in place to stop me from getting distracted and losing focus of the end goal. Great at making me forget what happens when you allow someone to get close.

  Expectations, conditions, and demands. Betrayal.

  I can’t go back down that road. Being a smart guy means I learn from my mistakes, but all the lessons that I’ve learned over time seem to be fading away the longer we’re in this bubble.

  “But you do have a hot hostess on your jet.” She smiles, but it’s not her usual easy, bright one as she burrows her face into my pillow, her wild hair covering my face as I tell her, “I’m sure someone would find him hot.”

  Stilling, Amelia whispers, “Oh.”

  “I travel because I have to, not because I particularly want to. This is the longest layover I’ve had. Normally I head back home as soon as I’m done with business.”

  “Why? If you have no one to return to…”

  Turning onto my side, I hitch her leg over my thigh to keep her close. Our time is coming to an end now that my pilot has given me the go-ahead to return. The snow has stopped, and if the private runway is clear, it won’t be long until the commercial ones are too, especially in London.

  I should have packed my shit and left last night after he texted me during dinner, but every time I think about leaving, I get this pang in my chest. Fear that I’ll miss something.

  “I have my family,” I say, trying to ignore all the thoughts in my head. “My parents and Daphne.” And I used to have Christie, but even someone as career-driven as she is couldn’t deal with the long hours and all the traveling. Or maybe Nanna was right; I never had Christie. It wasn’t me she wanted…

  “What are they like?” Amelia asks, a hand cupping my jaw while the other presses to my chest. “I like it when you talk about them—you actually smile. Not your ‘I’m a filthy animal and I’m about to tear your panties off’ smirk.”

  “I’m not that dirty.” She pins me with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Need I remind you of the phone box and whose idea that was?”

  “The first time we fucked you put your thumb in my ass.”

  The flickering light from the television isn’t enough to make out her blush, but I can imagine it, and it makes my chest grow tighter.

  “You loved it.”

  “No comment,” she muffles into my chest, bashful. “So, your family…”

  “My dad is retiring soon.”

  “And you’re taking over his role.” Looking up at me, she strokes her thumb over my lip. “Family, Adam, not work. I know that’s your default, but…you’re not just CFO. You’re smart, right? Obscenely good on the ice. Major sweet tooth. You’re kind and funny. You care enough about people that you want to help them even when they’re strangers.”

  “That’s my mom. She always pushed for us to be good to others. To treat people better than we want them to treat us. Ever since I can remember, she’s always been hands-on. When Daphne and I started applying for college, she found it so difficult that I ended up ditching Yale for Columbia.”

  “Are you a mommy’s boy?” Amelia teases, but there’s a sad slope to her lips and eyes that makes me tighten my hold around her.

  “Mom gave up her journalism career to have us. Not that you can’t have babies and a career—I mean, that’s not why she gave it up. It was her choice not to leave her children.”

  “She sounds great.” A tear collects in the inner corner of her eye, and my heart instantly aches at the sight.

  “Oh, she would be if she didn’t try and set me up with every nice Jewish girl she comes across.” I’m trying to make light of it all so that I can have my happy girl back to smiling, but it doesn’t work. If anything it makes her shudder with a silent sob. “We don’t have to talk abou—”

  “You should talk about her more often. Don’t worry about me and my feelings—it’s actually nice to hear that there is a mother out there with the right priorities.”

  “I think maybe it was different because she had twins, and from all accounts, Daph and I were both a handful. People say that when you have twins that one is always calmer and quieter than the other. Not us though.”

  “I thought your sister was younger. You call her your baby sister all the time…”

  “She is, by four minutes or whatever.”

  “That’s cute. Seb is three years older than me, but he’s a pain in the ass, and he’s kind of a clown. Your typical rich Cali boy. He and his friends pretty much think they own Malibu, or they did before he moved to the Hills.”

  “I thought Silicon Valley is where all the techies end up?”

  She’s mentioned a few times that her brother is a big-time software developer. She’s even showed me a few apps that he’s worked on. All mostly in banking with a couple of others that are completely off the track. The dating app completely threw me along with Meet Up, an app to tell your friends where you are so “you never have to drink alone.”

  “He moved there for a while, but then…” Amelia shrugs before she says, “It wasn’t for him, so he moved to the Hollywood Hills after the dating app went viral. I think you both have some very similar outlooks about relationships. Seb’s always focused on his next big project or whatever fun thing he can develop next.”

  “You know how you say I talk a lot about work?” Brushing my fingers through her knotted hair, I inhale her warm, sweet scent. “You talk about your brother just as much.”

  “When our parents weren’t around, he was the one that looked out for me. The boys at school weren’t scared of our super attorney dad—they wouldn’t go near me because of my jackass brother and his friends.” The smile I love is back, bringing with it a newfound respect for a guy I haven’t ever met. “I don’t know why, but he tried to make up for our parents’ absence by being there all the time. Every Saturday morning he would make me breakfast, and then we’d go to the Santa Monica Pier…”

  “He makes me look like a tool. All Daphne can say about me is that I give her shit over her micro-pig obsession.”

  “I recently had a client that wanted miniature horses for her daughter’s sixth birthday. It was a nightmare. They were only in London for three weeks during summer, and the mom was not letting it go. In the end, the little girl was so grossed out by all the shit that Kate and I were running around this massive yard trying to pen the damn things in. They were cute though, tiny.”

  “I’ve never heard of miniature horses before,” I chuckle, and the sound of her laughing along with me makes me want to kiss her so damn hard that when I do, she yelps at the scrape of my teeth over her lip.

  Turning her onto her back, I pin her to the mattress with my body. “You are so damn beautiful, Mrs. Claus.”

  “You don’t ha
ve to sweet-talk me into your bed, Mr. Grinch, I’m already in it.”

  Not for much longer. I sigh, kissing her with my eyes wide open so I can memorize every last detail of hers. The way her pupils dilate, darkening the bright amber and green to mossy bronze.

  With a low gasp, she closes her eyes with a savoring roll as my cock finds her entrance and I push inside her leisurely.

  “Look at me, baby,” I groan into her gaping mouth, holding still until she does as I ask.

  When I pull out and press back in, I swallow down the airy moan that hisses out of her. I wish we could make time stop so that we had more of it. I wish that our lives weren’t complete opposites, in different continents and so set because I’ve never wanted anyone the way I crave her. Like the ocean needs the moon to keep it from stagnating, my heart needs her to beat back to life.

  Amelia is a completely unexpected force of nature that’s turned everything I live by upside down. She makes me want things that I have no business wanting because I already know how things would end between us. And unlike anyone else, she has the ability to tear me apart.

  “Adam…” she whispers, bringing me back to her with a needy stare boring into mine as her arms curl around my shoulders and she holds on to me tighter than ever.

  That’s all she ever says while I pin her leg to my side and cup her face, thrusting in and out. I don’t know what it means, but it sounds like an unspoken promise. Something we both know can’t happen because the real world is waiting.

  In and out. In and out.

  “Adam…” Her cry is a muted, strangled groan as her other leg rounds my waist, her heel pressing to my ass with her body bowing into mine.

  A shudder rolls through her as she touches her forehead to mine and her pussy clenches around my cock, pulling me deeper as I come inside her.

  “So damn fucking pretty.” The words spill from my gaping mouth to hers. Breathless, ragged, and never ever so truly felt.

  Amelia kisses me and I kiss her, still trying to catch our breaths as a tear rolls down one of her cheeks.

  “That good, huh, spitfire?” I nip at the tip of her nose before pressing my lips to her forehead and dragging in a steeling breath.

  Rolling onto my back, I take her with me and tuck her into my chest as I pull the duvet back over us.

  “I heard those angels sing, after all,” she chuckles into my chest, but it sounds as though it’s mixed with a sob.

  Although I want to make sure she’s all right, I don’t move with the exception of cocooning her in my arms and returning to the movie that’s nearing its end.

  It’s a good reminder. It doesn’t matter what it is, all things have an end. Some sooner than others.

  The Christmas playlist is on repeat again. I think I’m going to miss it when we leave. Although I’ve eaten my body weight in gingerbread cookies, I’m going to miss those too. In fact, all the things that I didn’t understand about her—the fascination with Christmas, the constant happiness and baking. Jesus, with the exception of Mom, I don’t think I’ve met someone who loves to bake so much—all these things are what I’m going to miss most.

  “Like what you see?” Amelia comes to a stop in front of where I’m standing in the lounge doorway, wearing the sweater she bought at the Christmas market the other day.

  “Do you like what you see?” I turn the question on her, gesturing down my torso.

  “I might tap that.” Grinning up at me, she takes my hand, leading me to the large rug in front of the fire. “Wanna dance with me?”

  “Maybe.” I shrug, pulling her hand to my chest before I spin her and dip her low with a kiss to her lips, enjoying the sound of her giggles.

  Holding her to me, I sway us around the room with the occasional spin or kiss while she sighs contentedly and hums along to “Baby It’s Cold Outside.”

  “It’s not as cold as it was when we got here,” I tell her, pausing in front of the tree.

  “I think it’s all the festive spirit warming the cockles of your heart.”

  I laugh as Amelia grabs a couple of champagne flutes and hands me one.

  “It’s the last bottle,” she tells me, nodding to the Krug on the sideboard. “Best for last too!”

  “So, we’ve watched your favorite Christmas movie, decorated this place…” I take a deep breath and give her my best, broadest smile.

  “We watched Deck the Halls too and did some ice-skating.”

  “You mean my masterclass, right?”

  “Of course,” she snickers, toasting her glass with mine before we both take a sip.

  When she draws closer, I pull my phone from my pocket, and as she nuzzles her face with mine, a wide grin cutting her face, I chance a quick photo of us.

  For memories’ sake.

  It’s a good thing I’ve put the phone on silent, because I slip it away before she notices anything. The last thing I want to do is give Amelia the wrong impression of me and her. The proverbial us.

  Whether I admit it or not, it’s there. That’s the thing about Amelia—something that no other woman has managed to do. Ever. She’s got me foolishly tangled up in so many damn strings that it’s impossible for me to fathom not seeing her ever again. Even when we’re in different rooms, I feel her presence tug at me, urging me closer.

  “Sooo…what now?” she asks in between sips of her drink, fingering the cheap ornaments I got from the Christmas tree farm.

  “I think your crash Christmas course is done, but there’s one thing we haven’t covered. Probably the most obvious one given why we’re stuck here.” Drinking up the contents of my glass, I gesture for her to do the same while I grab our coats, her scarf and hat.

  I pause against the doorjamb, watching her hold her glass to her chest as she sways on the spot in front of the fire. A catchy version of “White Christmas” is playing softly in the background, and as I catch a glimpse out of the window, it feels odd seeing the ice flecks dust over her car.

  Holding her hat and scarf up to my nose in a bunch, I inhale deeply. Much like the woman herself, her scent is mesmerizing and addictive, leaving me wanting more the minute I exhale.

  Dark jeans mold to her plump ass as she turns toward me, her Christmas sweater emphasizing every mouthwatering curve.

  “Your momma ever tell you it’s rude to stare?”

  “I think we were past the rude staring shit the instant I fucked your pussy with my tongue.” Nodding at the floor by the tree, I add, “Right there.”

  “Oh my God!” Amelia flushes a glowing shade of rosy that reminds me of the color of her ass after I spank it. “I’m going to need warning when you casually decide to drop those reminders.”

  “Want a refresh? I can do that too…I’m open to anything.”

  Putting her glass down beside mine, she meanders over to me and takes her hat, pulling it on before she does the same to her coat. “I know.” Her face flushes, and I know she’s thinking about all the other ways I’ve had her.

  Putting her scarf around her neck I pull her to me. “When you blush like that, it does things to me. It’s like a challenge to see how much deeper I can make it.”

  With a shallow gasp, her mouth falls open, and it’s all the invitation I need. Biting her lip, I take a step back, letting it pull between my teeth. I’m putting my coat on as she sneaks glances up at me from where she’s sitting on the boot bench, putting hers on, when my phone starts to ring in my back pocket. I ignore it the first few times, but on the fourth, I decide to check it. Dad.

  “Adam,” he says in his business tone before I can greet him. “You need to go back to Drummond and bring that investment in before you leave.”

  “Legal said they sent the contract. It’s a done deal.”

  “Not until we have the signed contract in our hands, so I’ve arranged dinner.”

  My heart drops to my stomach as I watch Amelia skip out into the snow. She’s instantly dusting off the lighter blanket from her car in between come-hither glances that I can’t oblige righ
t now.

  “Dad…”

  “Your sister booked it seeing as your assistant isn’t around. I’ll let her tell you about that. She’s adamant she has to be the one to do it, God only knows why.”

  Steeling myself, I pull on my coat and close the door, preparing myself to break the only rule left unscathed.

  “Dad, I already have plans tonight.”

  “Are they going to make you eight hundred million?” I don’t bother answering. Aside from it being a rhetorical question, there’s no reply that’s going to work unless it’s the one he wants to hear.

  Right now, he’s not my dad; I’m on the phone to my boss. And as much as I wish it were different, soon Amelia and I will be nothing but a blip in history. “It’s really simple, Adam. You want the job, you want to be me, you have to earn it. Work for it. I’ve told you from the beginning, I’m not going to hand you an empire you haven’t put your blood and sweat into.”

  “Of course you are,” Daphne says over him in the background. “He’s your son, and what is it you always preach, Daddy?” A sour laugh escapes me as she answers for him, “Blood is more precious than wealth.”

  “I’m serious, son. You can’t have what you don’t take. I’ll let your sister tell you about the reservation.”

  While he’s handing her the phone, I hear Mom chastise him in the background. I think that if it wasn’t for her and who she is that maybe my childhood wouldn’t have been too different from Amelia’s. But then, she said her father was never really around, and Dad was. He was at every single game, and he made a point of being home for dinner at least once a week and every Saturday for Sabbath.

  “I’m the best sister ever, you don’t have to tell me,” Daphne tells me by way of greeting. “So I did some digging around and found this cute country pub. It’s not fancy, but it looks intimate enough that you can take a date and still do business.”

  “That’s the worst idea you’ve ever had. Why would I—” I stop when I reach Amelia and carry on listening to all the things Daphne has to say.