Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
“So,” Sterling says, “should we go get a Christmas tree and some decorations? You said you’d help me spruce this place up, right?”
His question catches me off guard. I realize I’ve been in my own head, hopefully not staring aimlessly at the table like a weirdo or something.
“Oh, right!” I reply quickly. “Sure. We can do that! Should we do the dishes first?”
“Nah,” he says, waving his hand dismissively. “We can do those later. Let’s go before all the good ones are taken!”
With one arm, Sterling lifts me up out of my chair and over his shoulder, laughing maniacally like some kind of medieval warlord as he carries me out of the dining room and up the stairs to my bedroom.
“Help, help!” I pretend to protest. “I’m being kidnapped!”
“Quiet, woman! You’re mine now!” he laughs as he tosses me down on the bed. With one single snatch, he relieves me of my pajama bottoms and throws them in the corner. For a second, I wonder if he’s going to continue stripping me of all my clothes, but he goes over to my suitcase and begins rummaging through it. “What would you like to wear?”
I point to a pair of blue jeans. “Please,” I whimper, then motion to a sweater. “And that too.”
Sterling brings them both over and motions to me with one hand. It takes me a moment, but I get it. I lift my feet, and he slips my jeans over them. He pulls then up my ankles and over my knees. I’m all fuzzy inside and lift my hips as he bends down over me. He slides them fully on, then pulls up the zipper over my most delicate of regions.
“Sit up,” he tells me. Chewing my lip, I do as I’m told and lift my arms over my head as he holds my sweater up for me. It’s so comforting and cute having him dress me, and when he’s finished and lifts me to my feet, I feel like we’ve just shared something together—not something as intimate as what we shared last night but something else special.
“All right, let’s g.” He smiles, handing me my coat.
* * *
There aren’t too many people at the Christmas tree place, which is good, because the selection is already starting to thin out. Sterling and I pick one out quickly—one that’s not too big and not too small and has a good shape to it, and I kick snow as he and one of the guys working tie it to the top of his car.
We stop off at the store on the way home and pick up some decorations for the house.
“This is where I need your expertise,” he tells me with a grin.
“Hey, don’t put that kind of pressure on me,” I reply. “It’s not like I’m a freelance Christmas decorator or anything. I just do it for my store.”
“Yeah, well, that’s more than I’ve ever done,” he chuckles. “So compared to me, you’re an expert.”
7
Leia
It takes both of us to get the tree up in the corner of the living room, and my hands are all sticky with sap when we’re finished. Sterling smiles at me and squirts soap into my hands as we go over to the sink to wash up.
“The house is looking better already.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
“What, you don’t?” he asks.
“No, I do,” I reply. “I’m just glad you do.”
I really am, and that surprises me. It’s not just physical, primal attraction between the two of us; I actually am happy that he’s pleased with how his house is turning out.
“Aren’t you sweet,” he remarks, kissing me on the forehead.
* * *
“There’s a lot more to do,” I say as I dry off my hands and go to the bags of things we brought home from the store. “And just so you know, there are no guarantees that this place will end up looking as festive as Mucho Mocha.”
Sterling chuckles and nods. “I understand.”
I take out a package of ornaments and some lights and hold them up in front of him. “Which would you like to do?”
Sterling glances at both packages, then takes the ornaments from me.
“These seem like the hardest to mess up.” He smirks.
“You’re right,” I laugh. “Just keep them evenly spaced and don’t group too many of the same color together.”
I get to work hanging the lights, marveling at just how normal everything feels. It’s almost like Sterling and I have done this many times before. It’s hard for me to see him as just some mob enforcer who showed up at my dad’s house to collect a debt now, especially after everything he told me about his dad and that he was basically just following in his footsteps.
I almost feel bad for him now. I almost empathize.
I’m sure he’s done bad things in his life, but where was his role model? Where was his family? And even after going down that path, look at how he’s treating me. I never would have expected it.