‘Tis the season of Wicked Deeds (A Holiday romance Book 1)
‘Tis the season of Wicked Deeds: Chapter 25

“How?” It’s the first thing that pops out of my mouth after I find my voice.

Kingston, who is sitting across me, smirks devilishly. “Do you like it?”

“You shocked me into silence, King,” I tease back before softening my voice. “I love it. You have a way of making me feel special. Like I’m the only girl in the world.”

“You are to me.”

I stare at him intently. Nothing but truthfulness and longing brightens his eyes. “You say that now when it’s all new…” I trail off, hating how my insecurities are popping up and ruining the mood.

“And I’ll say it for as long as I live, for as long as you’ll let me,” he finishes, erasing my doubts. Resting his palm over my balled fist, he confesses in a raw murmur, “I haven’t hidden my feelings for you, Twinkle. You’ve always known about my intentions, about how deeply I desire and ache for you.”

Turning my hand, I interlocked our fingers. I gaze at how my small hand fits in his perfectly. “I know, King. It’s one of the things I love about you.”

I still at the same second his grip tightens around my fingers when I utter the word love. My chest squeezes as I meet his fiery and passionate stare. I must look like a deer caught in the headlights. I’m scared he’ll call me out on it, but he doesn’t.

“What is it that is scaring you about us?” he softly asks instead.

My tense muscles relax as I confess sadly, “Our vision for our future.”

He thinks for a second before it dawns on him. “Marriage?”

“Yes.” A nervous tremor is in my voice. “I don’t want to get married. Ever. It’s something I’m just not interested in.”

“Because of your parents?”

“A little. I would be lying if I said their failed marriage didn’t affect me. But I’ve had years to understand and accept their divorce doesn’t define me. I am not them. Despite this, I never really got the desire to get married or daydreamed about it like most women.”

“Are you saying you never want to be with anyone?” he questions without a hint of judgment. He sounds like he’s genuinely trying to understand me.

It gives me the courage to share what I’ve only told my best friend, Tina.

“That’s the thing, I do. I want to fall in love. I want a partner to spend the rest of my life with and have kids in the future. It’s just, I don’t think a piece of paper is needed to show you’re committed to someone and build a life together. What matters is what’s in the other person’s heart. For me, loyalty and love are shown with actions, not rituals or traditions. Nobody understands this when I share this. Not even Tina.”

Glancing away from his too intense stare, I let out a self-deprecating laugh. “You must think I’m weird—”

“No, I do not,” he cuts me off, shaking his head. “Just because your views or beliefs are different than others, it doesn’t make you weird. It takes courage and I admire you for it. I also understand where you’re coming from and even agree. Love isn’t defined by any societal norms.”

“But you still do want to get married,” I whisper, fighting back tears.

Why does my stupid heart feel like it’s breaking into a million pieces?

I don’t love him.

Don’t you?

“Will you believe me if I say I don’t?”

I freeze. “Don’t toy with me like that, Kingston.”

“I am not,” he replies with a sly smile.

“You’re on a matchmaking site and literally went on a date with me six months ago. So, sue me if I don’t believe you suddenly don’t want a marriage.”

He chuckles low, making me want to throttle him. He’s infuriating me in the same way as on our first date. Turning somber, he maneuvers my chair until I’m sitting beside him.

“I was on a matchmaking site. But then one sassy girl came into my life and knocked me sideways until I became obsessed. I’m neither lying nor playing with you, darling. Want to know another truth?”

“What?” I whisper.

“My parents were like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“They fell in love but neither of them wanted to get married. Their parents, especially my mother’s, pressured and threatened to cut them off if they didn’t. People weren’t that open back then. While my parents don’t regret marrying, they would’ve been just as perfectly happy without it. They just didn’t want to disappoint their parents, who also only wished the best for them. My parents have taught me love is unconditional. So yeah, marriage or no marriage, it doesn’t make a difference to me. All I care about is being with the woman I love. If this was the only thing holding you back, then you know the truth. The final choice is yours, Twinkle.”

He makes it sound so easy, but it isn’t.

Marriage isn’t the only hurdle stopping us from being together. For fuck’s sake, we live in different countries. Long-distance relationships never work, nor do I desire one. I want the man I’m with close, not halfway across the ocean.

All odds are stacked against us.

***

“As lovely and fun as snow is, I loathe winters,” I complain to Kingston. “I can barely move my arms in this jacket. Way too many clothes.”

I look like Joey from the episode where he wore all of Chandler’s clothes in Friends. Meanwhile, Kingston—the sinful god that he is—looks sexy, broody, and rugged as hell. The ski boots look like an extension of him as he leans sideways on the pole, watching me with mirth dancing in his honey brown eyes.

“I think I know why you were picked last,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“You’re whiny.”

I gasp in mock offense. “You’re so mean, Daddy.”

His eyes flare, sending shivers down my spine. If we weren’t wearing helmets, he’d be on me, kissing the hell out of me. Instead, he threatens, “I’ll show you mean later when you’re begging me to let you come.”

I smirk playfully.

After our heavy talk, the rest of our date made up for the heaviness with how romantic and lovely it was. We steered clear of deep topics or what our future looks like and chatted about little things couples ask on dates. Our favorite colors, movies, foods. The next destination on my bucket list. The countries he’s traveled to with his best friends.

As if that wasn’t enough, Kingston had another surprise in store for me, which was booking the entire cinema lounge for us. We fully took advantage of the privacy by making out and fondling each other in the dark. I was flushed from a drugging orgasm when we exited and prayed it wasn’t obvious to the people around us.

Like a pro, Kingston skates to me and takes position behind my back.

“Your stance is all wrong,” he points out, correcting my posture. “Were you not paying attention, woman?”

Of course, I wasn’t.

I was too busy drooling over him as he showed me how to ski. He made it look so effortless, gliding through the snow.

“Try again,” he encourages. “Look toward where you’re going, not down at your skis.”

“Okay,” I answer, trying not to get distracted by his hands on my hips. Even through all the layers, I can sense their weight.

I follow his command and move forward, wobbling a little before I manage to control my limbs. I’m smiling that I’m doing it until I realize I forgot how to stop. My speed gains high momentum on the slope and I go, “Whoa. King! How do I stop?”

He’s by my side in a flash.

“Oh my God! I’m going to trip,” I yell, panicking.

“You’re doing good, darling. Just lean back and push down,” he guides calmly. “Look at me. Like this.”

I mimic him and barely save myself from an embarrassing fall as I stop.

Why couldn’t he be terrible like me too?

Lifting the blue visor of his helmet, he grins. “How was it?”

“Minus almost tripping, it was fantastic,” I reply with a laugh, adrenaline pumping hard and fast in my veins.

“Want to go again?”

I stare behind me at the uphill trek. “We have to climb on foot first?”

“Yes.” Nudging my leg with the pole, Kingston teases, “Weren’t you really excited to ski?”

“Fine.”

Yeah, I am so not a sports person.

Half an hour later, I have to commend Kingston’s patience in teaching me. I would just rather watch him. It’s far more fun.

“I’m rethinking this skiing idea,” I grumble, after falling on my ass twice because I can’t seem to put on the brakes. The third time Kingston had to swoop in and stop my fall. My poles are defective, I swear. “I have a better one. How about we build a snowman and have a snowball fight, hmm?”

He gives me an amused look, pulling me closer by the waist.

I crane my neck to maintain eye contact.

“How tall are you?” I blurt out.

Raising one brow, he sates my curiosity. “Six-five.”

Jesus. No wonder he’s blessed with a mega cock.

“Why do you ask?”

“Just intrigued.”

“You’re too cute sometimes.” Kissing my lips, he murmurs, “So, snowman?”

I grin like a kid and eagerly nod. Even the snow here feels different and special.

The rest of the day flies as we laugh and have fun in the snow. By the time we have to return, I’m so exhausted that I drift in and out of sleep.

I don’t even remember how we made it to the cabin in the evening. All I have is the hazy memory of a warm blanket being drawn over my body and the softest kiss on my forehead with the ghost of a finger on my cheek.