Read Online Getting In the Spirit: a Sapphire Falls novella by Erin Nicholas - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Erin Nicholas
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fanciful thing to feel. But it fit and, dammit, she was really going for magical and fanciful here. She didn’t mind that everything about Sapphire Falls, from Phoebe and Joe’s quaint old farm house to the hot chocolate stand in the town square, had felt otherworldly. That was what she was going for here. An escape. A vacation. Something to keep her daydreaming for the rest of the winter. Or more.
Tucker leaned into her, reaching to crank the heat.
“Don’t want anything freezing off.”
She laughed softly. “Very thoughtful.”
“Oh, I’m talking about my things freezing off. I intend to keep your things very warm.”
It seemed all he needed to do was talk and her core body temperature went up. She pulled off her cap. “I’m glad it’s dark so you can’t see my hair messed up.”
“Another secret about men—” he said, running a hand over her hair from the crown of her head to the ends that hit her just above the curve of her lower back, “—we like a woman’s hair messed up.”
“Is that right?” She pulled off her gloves and unwound the scarf from her neck, suddenly thinking she could actually overheat.
“Well, I do anyway,” he said. “If a woman leaves at the end of the night with her hair too perfect, I did something wrong.”
Even her feet started defrosting, something she hadn’t thought would happen until March.
“But my hair’s messed up from the hat.”
“Yeah. For now.”
Oh boy. That sounded good. She wanted that. Whatever it was. Whatever he meant. Whatever he wanted.
And maybe they should define making out. Maybe country boys made out differently than city boys. Or girls for that matter.
The way she was currently feeling, she was thinking the queen-sized four poster in the guest room was about right. She just needed to keep enough of her wits together to remember to take the quilt off. That thing was gorgeous and clearly handmade. She couldn’t have hot, sweaty country sex on top of it.
But then thinking became pretty secondary.
“Take your coat off. Let me get my hands on you,” he said gruffly.
A thrill shot through her. She’d imagined that small town guys were gentlemen who would take their time. There would be flirting and flowers and dates where they held hands and saw movies and kissed only if there was mistletoe involved.
Part of her had wanted that.
But now, in the truck with Tucker after hot chocolate and a kiss that had nothing to do with mistletoe, she wanted fast. Not just the sex—though she was a fan of hard and fast frankly—but the whole thing. She was being swept up in Sapphire Falls, in Christmas, in these things that she’d always thought were manufactured by the greeting-card companies but was delighted to find out actually existed somewhere.
She was giving in to all of it, floating on this cloud of Christmas as it should be. December twenty-sixth would come soon enough.
She wanted to be swept up in an affair where she felt an immediate connection with a guy and fall into bed with him the first night because what they were feeling was real and strong even within only a few hours of knowing one another.
She knew that wasn’t true. She knew that love at first sight wasn’t real. She knew that many a girl’s heart had been broken mistaking chemistry for true love. But she was going to go with it for a few days. Kind of like believing that Santa was going to find her in Hawaii every year even without a tree or chimney or cookies or a letter. In spite of her mother. Every December, her brain had tried to tell her it didn’t make sense, that it had never happened before so why now. But her heart had wanted to believe so badly she’d talked herself into it.
For a few days, she was going to let herself bask in the fantasy of true love found under a piece of mistletoe.
And the best sex of her life in the front of a pickup truck.
She unbuttoned the coat and started to shrug out of it, but Tucker helped sweep it from her without her even
Tucker leaned into her, reaching to crank the heat.
“Don’t want anything freezing off.”
She laughed softly. “Very thoughtful.”
“Oh, I’m talking about my things freezing off. I intend to keep your things very warm.”
It seemed all he needed to do was talk and her core body temperature went up. She pulled off her cap. “I’m glad it’s dark so you can’t see my hair messed up.”
“Another secret about men—” he said, running a hand over her hair from the crown of her head to the ends that hit her just above the curve of her lower back, “—we like a woman’s hair messed up.”
“Is that right?” She pulled off her gloves and unwound the scarf from her neck, suddenly thinking she could actually overheat.
“Well, I do anyway,” he said. “If a woman leaves at the end of the night with her hair too perfect, I did something wrong.”
Even her feet started defrosting, something she hadn’t thought would happen until March.
“But my hair’s messed up from the hat.”
“Yeah. For now.”
Oh boy. That sounded good. She wanted that. Whatever it was. Whatever he meant. Whatever he wanted.
And maybe they should define making out. Maybe country boys made out differently than city boys. Or girls for that matter.
The way she was currently feeling, she was thinking the queen-sized four poster in the guest room was about right. She just needed to keep enough of her wits together to remember to take the quilt off. That thing was gorgeous and clearly handmade. She couldn’t have hot, sweaty country sex on top of it.
But then thinking became pretty secondary.
“Take your coat off. Let me get my hands on you,” he said gruffly.
A thrill shot through her. She’d imagined that small town guys were gentlemen who would take their time. There would be flirting and flowers and dates where they held hands and saw movies and kissed only if there was mistletoe involved.
Part of her had wanted that.
But now, in the truck with Tucker after hot chocolate and a kiss that had nothing to do with mistletoe, she wanted fast. Not just the sex—though she was a fan of hard and fast frankly—but the whole thing. She was being swept up in Sapphire Falls, in Christmas, in these things that she’d always thought were manufactured by the greeting-card companies but was delighted to find out actually existed somewhere.
She was giving in to all of it, floating on this cloud of Christmas as it should be. December twenty-sixth would come soon enough.
She wanted to be swept up in an affair where she felt an immediate connection with a guy and fall into bed with him the first night because what they were feeling was real and strong even within only a few hours of knowing one another.
She knew that wasn’t true. She knew that love at first sight wasn’t real. She knew that many a girl’s heart had been broken mistaking chemistry for true love. But she was going to go with it for a few days. Kind of like believing that Santa was going to find her in Hawaii every year even without a tree or chimney or cookies or a letter. In spite of her mother. Every December, her brain had tried to tell her it didn’t make sense, that it had never happened before so why now. But her heart had wanted to believe so badly she’d talked herself into it.
For a few days, she was going to let herself bask in the fantasy of true love found under a piece of mistletoe.
And the best sex of her life in the front of a pickup truck.
She unbuttoned the coat and started to shrug out of it, but Tucker helped sweep it from her without her even
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