position on the ladder. With mindless movements, the soft Christmas carols from the lobby speakers growing louder in my ears, I lost myself in the task—one I’d never done before.
One I’d wondered about.
One I’d feel too silly to admit I’d been wanting to do for a long time.
Vaguely, I heard Saint’s voice meander around the girth of the tree, searching for me. But I was lost in the little sensations. The pressure and release of each tiny warm bulb slip between my fingers as I laced them into the fur of the tree. The feel of the soft needles gently scraping at the very edge of my skin, testing before welcoming the shining weight I left behind.
I wished it felt silly. I wished I could pull away and say for certain there wasn’t anything special about tangling a strand of lightbulbs around an evergreen tree.
But there was. So I couldn’t.
There was something ethereal...magical...about taking something so perfectly proportioned by nature, something beautiful but often overlooked, and making it shine, even if just for a night.
Light after light, I didn’t even bother to loop the strand around my arm like Saint had shown me, instead, I hauled more lights from the box, draping some over my shoulder, letting some drag down by my feet. And he didn’t stop me.
There was this swell of urgency inside my chest that I couldn’t keep at bay. I’d thought about this moment so many times growing up and even after I moved out, but there was always a wall in front of me, graffitied on it the reminder that holidays were about family and love and bringing people together. I had no one. Therefore, there was no point in a holiday for me.
But right now... tonight... I needed to do this. I needed to see the tree lit. And I needed to do it with him.
It only took a few more frantic steps before it wasn’t only my thoughts that bound me.
I cried out as my ankles met wiry resistance, cinching them together and pitching me forward—and straight into Saint.
“Oomph!” I crashed into the warm wall of his chest, strong hands making me steady before standing me straight.
“I warned you about tangling with the lights,” he grumbled, though his voice carried hardly any displeasure since I’d ended up in his arms.
My gaze snapped up to his first before glancing down at myself; I was irrevocably tangled in the lights—so tangled, I was practically chained to the tree. Strands snaked around my legs, some from my shoulders had fallen to my waist. I wasn’t sure how I’d made it this far without realizing.
But here I was, the woman who socially distanced herself from Christmas like it was a deadly virus, wrapped up in twinkle lights at the base of a Christmas tree in Saint Nicholsen’s arms.
“Holly...” I hardly recognized the sound of his voice or my name underneath the gravel of hoarse desire.
His lips promised magic. His gaze promised more.
At this time of night, secluded behind the tree, there was a soft solitude that surrounded us with hardly any guests roaming about—and those that were would be hard-pressed to find us in this moment.
My breath caught, feeling the heat of him against me, warm and alluring. He was presents and chocolate and gingerbread houses and every kind of Christmas wish all wrapped up into one perfectly proportioned man. And I was having a hard time not wishing he was mine.
And like tiny little twinkling traitors, the lights seemed to flicker in time with my racing pulse, they shuddered to reveal the unsteadiness of my breath, and then they shone, illuminating the depths of my desire for him and everything I felt in his arms.
“We shouldn’t,” I protested weakly though there was no reason.
“I want to make this special for you,” he rasped, his arms pulling me tighter.
“Why?” I gulped, pitifully. “There’s no point. I’m an adult. I don’t need Christmas.”
But Christmas was just code for everything my life had been missing. Family. A stable home. Support. Love.
“But you want it.”
My eyes drifted shut, my blood quaking in my veins. I did want it.
“I know you want it, Holly. And you deserve it.”
“Saint…” It was just as much an admission as it was a plea.
The hot exhale of his breath on my lips grew stronger, more magnetic as he drew closer until finally his mouth sealed to mine. Hot and hard, his lips were charged with an energy that rocketed through my body. Air evaporated from my