A Christmas To Remember: A Sweet Holiday Novella by Dove Cavanaugh King

Author:Dove Cavanaugh King [King, Dove Cavanaugh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-19T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Holly

December 23

“I am going to be scarred for life, Holly,” Jack complained over his plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. “Like, people actually pay for that?”

I snorted.

“That’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

He looked completely affronted.

“No, I do not think it’s dramatic,” he pouted, quite dramatically, although I’d never tell him that. “Like, people actually pay for that?”

“It was just a massage, Jack,” I said on a laugh. “You didn’t seem to mind being touched last night.”

He looked at me, his face transforming from put out to turned on in seconds.

“Last night was amazing,” he practically growled. “You can touch me again anytime.”

I blushed, but I did have to agree with him; it had been amazing.

After we had both fallen into a sweaty heap on my enormous bed, Jack had held me close as we watched the snow continue to fall, his fingers slowly combing through my hair until he’d lulled me into a contented sleep.

When the in-room phone screeched us awake several hours later, the very last thing I had wanted to do was to get out of the warm cocoon of Jack’s arms, but we’d scheduled the couple’s massage before breakfast, and I didn’t want to miss that.

I may or may not have spent my entire shower wondering if Jack and I now qualified as an actual couple, or just a couple of people who were hanging out while also having really, really great sex.

I thought about it until my fingers turned to prunes, and I still didn’t have an answer.

I wasn’t even sure it mattered.

Jack had ducked back to his own room for a shower and clean clothes, then greeted me at the doors to the spa with a smile and a kiss, catching my hand in his as we entered.

To call the experience awkward was putting it lightly. We stripped down and climbed onto side by side tables, lying face down in the darkened room. The speakers piped in tranquil music and the smell of tea tree oil floated around us in an aromatic cloud of relaxation and sneezes.

But all of that was fine, really. Even laying there in nothing but a sheet didn’t seem to bother either of us at all.

Until the massage therapists walked in.

I thought they were lovely; two strapping men, both wearing resort branded polo shirts and black pants. And when they each moved to stand beside a table, one with me and one with Jack, I was soon kneaded into a puddle of mushy bliss.

Until I opened my eyes and caught a glance at Jack.

Eyes wide, he laid frozen on the bed, he jaw clenched as his therapist ran his hands across his back, rubbing a sweet smelling oil into those broad shoulders that I had very recently squeezed myself. The thought of my hands on Jack sent a thrill through me, and I wondered again when I would be able to repeat the process.

As I watched, Jack continued to look more and more uncomfortable. I tried to catch his

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