The Sleight Before Christmas (Holiday Hijinx Series Book 2) -
The Sleight Before Christmas: Chapter 6
“You came,” Serena sounds smugly, barely visible in the small light filtering through the lone window—that is, until she flicks her lighter. “Were you worried about my self-esteem?”
“Petrified,” I retort dryly, “and don’t light that, I can hang for a minute, but I can’t smoke that with you.”
“You don’t smoke weed?”
“No,” I lie.
“Bullshit,” she calls, studying my face over the small flame. “I could see you foaming at the mouth when I pulled out the bag.”
“Embellish much? I was not.”
“So, you were foaming at the mouth for me.” She taunts as a statement.
“Your confidence issue is heartbreaking, Serena, truly. I hope you get the help you need.”
“Do my parents know what an asshole you are?” She asks before sparking up anyway and exhaling the rest of her question. “Or do you pose for them?”
“Your parents don’t interact with the asshole in me because they don’t purposely provoke him and don’t consider confrontation a personal sport,” I say, pulling the joint from her fingers and easily holding it out of reach.
“Hey, that’s mine.”
“So why am I here then, Serena?” I chide, handing her back her joint before walking over to peer through the window facing the house. The deck Allen and I built sending a shot of pride through me, as well as the inkling that I shouldn’t be here. Not alone with his daughter like this. I’m positive now that her parents set us up, but I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t appreciate how the rest of this night is playing out. It’s the static that kicked between us hours ago that had me coming back. That also had me pacing outside my truck parked a street over before I finally decided to do a fly-through.
For what, Thatch?
“You came for me,” she declares with surety as I turn to see her watching me curiously.
“That’s undecided,” I tell her honestly.
“Well, that’s mutual. I don’t know if I like you, either. And who are you, anyway, Thatch?”
“I’m as certain of that as you are about yourself.”
“Fair enough, so, what’s the decision maker for you. Or,” she pulls on her joint, holding the smoke briefly before exhaling, her question playful, “or better yet, what’s your deal breaker?”
She smells so fucking good, like some sort of clean-scented bloom. A whiff of her earlier had my cock twitching in my jeans. The inch-close stare off had me wanting to snatch her and mark her skin, interested in knowing what her moan might sound like. It’s a fact already she’s a mouthy, highly opinionated fireball, but there’s heart beneath her sass. Bored blind by her empty conversation at dinner, it was still obvious to me that she consists of more. Still water and all. Though, with Serena, it’s like turbulent rapids of smoke and mirrors.
Then again, I hope she’s as shallow as she depicts herself to be because that static between us is dangerous. Discovering there’s something real inside her, worth knowing, will be even more so for me. I told Allen when we started on the deck that I was leaving Nashville, so I can’t help but wonder if the reason for this setup is his attempt to keep me here. But, by way of his daughter?
No fucking way.
Firstly, Allen is crazy protective of his family. Though I’m certain I’ve earned his trust, he would never go to those lengths for me. The idea that he sees me as a fit for her has my chest tightening while, at the same time, a painful unease sinks into me. For the second time in minutes, I glance at the shed door, willing myself to bid her goodnight and walk through it.
“So, are you going to smoke or what?” She prompts, sensing my hesitation.
“Or what,” I say, staring diligently at the house before waving her smoke away. “Why do it in here?” I ask. “Your dad is sure to smell it. Is this some shitty attempt at rebellion?”
“It would be pitiful, but despite what you’ve decided about me, I didn’t give Ruby and Allen too much shit. Not even when I was in High School.”
“You mean five minutes ago?”
“You’re twenty,” she delivers, “that doesn’t earn you a lick of seniority.”
I grin. “Who told you?”
“You just did. But you could pass for older.”
“Why’s that?” I ask as she continually offers the joint between our exchanges, and I wave each offer away.
“Your maturity,” she delivers without hesitation. “Something tells me you don’t get off on things the way other guys do.”
“Maybe you’re wrong.”
“I don’t think so, Thatcher,” she drawls out, guessing my true name. Which I hate.
“Easy guess,” I deadpan.
“Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I don’t know how to have a good time,” she says, touching her finger to her tongue to rid it of some loose bud, “but Whitney’s given them far more shit. I think she’ll be the one doing keg stands in her future. If she hasn’t already.”
“Yeah,” I chuckle, “I can see that. I like her.”
“She’s seventeen,” she grumbles, pinching the rest of her joint between her fingers.
“I’m aware, and she’s a cool kid. We get on well. I get on with Brenden, too.”
“It’s weird you know my family so well. Weird we haven’t crossed paths until tonight either, with you being here so often.”
“I think you know why I was here tonight.”
“Did you know?” she asks, seeming bothered by the idea.
“No, or I would have passed, and they know it.”
“Should I palm your face hard in offense?” She snaps. “Or is this your idea of fucking charm?”
“Oof, I meant no offense,” I can’t help but grin at her nasty little bite, “but I’m not in the habit of getting set up by a girl’s parents.”
“Wonder why they think you’re a good fit for me anyway.”
I stalk toward her, and she steps back, a smile quirking her lips as I back her against the wall of the shed. “You have some fucking mouth on you,” I quip as she stares up at me, her eyes screaming for me to close the inches between us.
“You have no idea. But please don’t go thinking I’ll get docile and agreeable when a boy compliments my lips. Or anything else.”
“I’m thinking I already know that about you.”
“We seem to be thinking a lot about each other,” she drawls.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Serena. I’m also thinking you’re ninety-nine percent pain in the ass, one percent sunshine.”
“Not nice, I’m at least two percent sunshine.”
I palm the wall next to her head and bend so we’re as close as we were earlier. This time, she reaches up, palming the back of my neck and leaving it there. Her lips glistening as she stares up at me expectantly.
“You gloss those lips up for me?”
“I didn’t wear it for you before I got home, so there’s your answer.”
“Liar,” I call in bullshit, glancing back toward the window, trying hard not to close my eyes as she runs her nails slightly but seductively along the back of my neck. Fuck, she’s bold, and I’m already hard just thinking about parting those ridiculous lips with my tongue. Turning back to her, I gauge the curiosity in her eyes. “Set up or not, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t appreciate this situation.”
“Whatever,” she sighs on exhale, pulling her hand from my neck. “Seriously, Thatch, you’re that freaked out?”
“I’m not scared of your parents, Serena, but they’ve been good to me, and I don’t want to shit on that.”
“Shit on it how?”
“You know good and fucking well how. Don’t play ignorant.”
“I really don’t,” she taunts innocently. In a flash, I grip the wrist holding the joint and press it against the wall behind her. Her eyes spark and ignite, spurring me on as a smirk upturns her perfect lips.
“Yes, you fucking do.”
“Tell me anyway, Handy Man.”
“You like playing with fire, but there’s all different kinds of fires. You strike me as a girl who’s too fucking smart not to figure out what kind of flame she’s messing with, and we both know I shouldn’t be here.” I state, ill at ease at the idea I won’t get invited back.
While I’m a few hundred short of finally getting the fuck out of Nashville, the Collins’ house is truly my only refuge. Though, my future consists of leaving everything and everyone here in the rearview. Only giving the people in my future a one-sentence summation of where I came from before burying my past six feet—the subject never to be broached again. All my memories and the city tainted by the people I share a name with.
“Did you go to school here?” She asks.
“For a while, yeah.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” I deny the joint again when prompted. “That at one time, I attended school here and then stopped.”
“Jesus, you’re a hard shell to crack.”
“Not really. I’m just not a fan of your line of questioning.”
In an instant she’s practically pressed against me. “Well then, let’s just be quiet.”
“Whoa,” I whisper, getting lost a little by the glazed look in her eyes. “You’re beautiful, truly, but this isn’t right.”
“And it isn’t that serious, Thatch. We’re just having fun.”
“Fun,” I press my lips together as I crowd her a little more. “What do you take seriously?”
Her chest heaves as she stares up at me. “I don’t know. School. My health, and anyone who fucks with my family.”
“Finally, some conversation with substance,” I say, snatching the joint from her fingers and stomping it out with my boot while keeping the space between us scarce. The feel of her inches away alone enough to catch some of the static. “Now you sound like Ruby and Allen’s kid. That I’ll stay for.”
“What is your fascination with my parents?”
“You don’t have any idea how good you have it, Serena.”
“How good do I have it?”
“You’re beautiful and intelligent, have the world at your fingertips, and an incredible family. As far as I can tell, you’ve got everything you need.”
She frowns. “And you don’t?”
“I have this thing I’m starting to love,” I tell her honestly. “And this guy who’s teaching me a lot about it.”
“My dad,” she concludes.
“Is it so hard to understand that I don’t want to fuck that up? Because the truth is, there’s not a lot of people around here that will take the time to teach me.”
I dip lower, and in response, her eyes start lighting a path straight into me. Every cell in my body ignites for a second, third, hell fucking fourth time tonight as my brain continually wills me to walk away. I’m so fucking close to my exit. A matter of weeks. She’d be a complication, or maybe she’s just the distraction I need to make it through.
No, fuck that. Allen deserves better, and so does she. I won’t be that guy.
“Thatch,” she murmurs, holding my gaze as I start to thrum, fucking ache for her. “I can tell this is important to you, and I promise I hear you.”
“Ah, so she does listen,” I whisper, “she gets it.”
“I think I want to,” she whispers back so sincerely that my pulse skips.
Fuck.
It’s all I can do to keep from closing my eyes, the temptation becoming too much. Her voice is a raspy, soothing mix. Her tongue touched with the faintest hint of southern twang, which sets me alight as I reach up and run a lock of her silky blonde strands through my fingers. In that moment, I feel like I’m tainting her and drop it. With that sinking feeling, I decide to make good on my exit. It’s the haze in her eyes that warns me away as I lean in, tempted just to brush my lips against hers. Just a little. But it’s my good sense that wins out, that has me whispering one last fast “good night” before I ease back and successfully will myself to the door.
It’s my foolish, ignorant fucking everything else that has me clipping a reply when she calls after me in summons.
“Same time tomorrow night?”
“Maybe.”
Pulling up to the cabin, I note the lights are already up, thankful for the addition of Eli to our family. Who, with Allen’s blessing, relieved him of the annual staple gun task when he lit up the mountain as part of his proposal to Whitney. The sun sets steadily as they shine brightly, guiding us up the driveway and toward the A-frame cabin perched cliffside.
Built in the late seventies, the home is far from a relic and utterly idyllic. Its interior is no less perfect, with large floor-to-ceiling windows and a story-tall stone hearth that can host a fire big enough to warm the entirety of the house. Toss in Ruby’s classic, no holds barred décor, and the cabin both looks and feels exactly like the type of place one would want to spend any holiday. Specifically, this one. Gazing at the house perched on the mountain cliff, I’m thankful coming here for Christmas has been a new tradition in recent years. Since the original owners, Grammy P and Grandpa Joe passed away, Ruby is determined to keep their memory alive. We all are. I forever remain thankful that I was lucky enough to know them and grieve their loss along with the rest of the family.
Putting my truck in park, I glance over to Serena, who’s wearing her typical hoodie and leggings. Her hair tied in her usual messy bun as she stares on at the setting. But it’s her neck, or rather the fresh but faint mark just beneath her ear, that keeps my attention.
“I love you,” I whisper over the cabin.
She whips her head toward me, her eyes shining with sentiment, her lips parting. “I love you too, babe.”
Leaning over, I give her a brief kiss, ignoring Gracie’s gag and Peyton’s order to stop kissing his mommy. Serena surprises me by pulling my neck to bring our lips back flush and extending it to spite them before leaning over, her whisper just for me.
“Ride or die, no fucks given, make out on a whim, Thatch and Serena in the house.”
“My fucking girl,” I give her a half-grin and mentally roll up my sleeves. “Let’s do this.”
She nods. “I’ll grab our suitcases.”
Hopping out, I open the SUV door as Peyton unbuckles himself, and Gracie jumps out, stretching her legs. Grabbing Serena and my suitcases from the bed of my truck, I call after Gracie as she starts to climb the double set of short stairs that lead to the front door. “Gracie, you forgot to get your suitcase.”
Gracie stops just short of the second flight and turns back to me. “What?”
“Your suitcase. I’m assuming you’ll want the full wardrobe you packed, the makeup, and your toothbrush.”
“Yeah, so bring it up,” she demands.
“Yeah, I think I’ll pass.” I look down to Peyton. “You too.”
“Daddy, I can’t carry my suitcase! It’s too heaby!”
“Hmm, sounds like your problem,” I walk past Serena—whose own eyes are widening slightly—and cut any words she might have with the swift jerk of my chin. Serena nods and follows me up the stairs, elevating her voice.
“Thatch, do you need help? I’m happy to carry mine.” Serena offers to set an example. Winging it, we’ve decided to make the rules up as we go.
“No, baby, I’m good, but thank you for asking.”
“Dad, you can’t leave us out here. We can’t bring our own suitcases up!”
Stopping, I put Serena’s case down and palm the storm door. “I believe your mother told you to pack one case and only what you need.”
“I need my toys!” Peyton barks. “I didn’t pack them all.”
“Well, your mother packed for you, and you threw it all out and packed your toys.”
“I need them!”
“Then I guess you can carry them in. One by one.”
“I need my clothes, too!” Gracie protests.
“Then bring them in,” I retort dryly. “I’m not your bellman.”
“This is bullshit!” Gracie spews as I push through the front door and inch back slightly to see them both standing at the foot of the porch, waiting for a reaction.
“Gracie, need I say it?”
“I’m sure I lost another present,” she scoffs, “I don’t care.”
“Well, good, then I won’t care either. And when you bring your cases up, grab all of the trash you tossed on the floor of my truck. You can trash your rooms all you want, but that space is mine. Clean it up, or you can find your own ride home.”
“You want us to bring our own suitcases up those icy stairs and clean your truck?”
“Mep,” I spit, seeing the salt on the clear steps as Serena bristles next to me.
“This bullshit!” Peyton parrots.
“Oof, that’s like four presents left for Rudolph to bring. It’s going to be a short Christmas,” I declare to Serena before walking into the house. Pulling my wife and our suitcases in, I slam the door in Gracie’s screaming face. Turning, I’m met by the knowing smirk of my mother-in-law, who stands just next to the garland-smothered, heavily lit staircase. Her greeting one I’m all too happy to hear.
“I was wondering when the great reckoning was coming,” she sighs.
Serena opens her mouth to speak, but I step forward. “It’s here, Ruby, and honestly, if it gets to be too much, we’ll take them home.”
“No, no,” she says, walking over to embrace me. “I’m with you, Thatch.” She turns to Serena. “I’m with both of you. This has been a while coming.”
Serena lets out a sigh of relief and walks straight into her mother’s open arms.
“We’ve screwed up, Mom. I don’t know where we went so wrong.”
“No, baby, you would have screwed up if you let it go on any longer. It’s going to be one hell of a week, but your father and I are behind you. I promise.”
“They’re going to ruin Christmas,” Serena whispers mournfully.
“Oh, honey, we won’t let them. I’ve got a few tricks of my own,” Ruby assures.
“Thank you,” Serena whispers as I kiss my mother-in-law on the cheek, as she consoles my wife, while reading my expression.
“Gravity,” Ruby whispers, releasing Serena.
“Gravity,” I utter back before pulling her to me.
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