“Damn that’s a nice view. Am I right?” I look beside me to see another man, his gaze trained on Joy’s ass and I don’t like it. It’s okay for me to look at her ass. Hell, I’ve been having her bend over the whole day to look at shit, for that sole reason.
It’s not okay for another man to be looking at her ass. It’s not that I’m territorial—or rather I haven’t been before. It’s just the fact, that this is the ass I’ve now invested time in and an ass I’m definitely going to tap and therefore… mine.
“Look elsewhere,” I growl, keeping my voice quiet, so Joy doesn’t hear us talking.
“Are you crazy? There’s nothing in this fucking store even close to that view. Damn a man would give his right nut to come home to that ass every night,” the guy says a little too loudly.
Luckily, Joy has no idea because she’s busy talking about the shelf being overcrowded and not seeing what I’m talking about. To quickly end this conversation, I hit this asshole in the stomach. When he starts to bitch, I hit him hard in the mouth and he goes back with a thud.
“Oh my God! What happened?” Joy asks, standing up and that’s another reason to hate this bastard. I didn’t get to enjoy her ass longer. People go around the man who is now lying on the floor—moaning, but that’s about it.
“Some guy passed out, hit his face on the way down,” I shrug. “I think I’d rather have a real tree,” I invent to distract her as I steer her away. I don’t really want to explain why I knocked the guy out and if he starts spouting shit again, I can’t be responsible for what I might do to him.
“Oh, okay…” Joy says looking over her shoulder at the man. Finally, she turns to look at me. A live tree is a great idea and they smell divine. Besides…” she stops with a frown, her face studying me. “You can’t have that tree, Eb.”
“I can’t?”
“No. It’s hideous and I say that with love. There is not one redeeming thing about that tree.”
“It’s made out of recyclable material,” I offer, feeling helpful.
“From what? An explosion at the Hello, Kitty factory?”
Her response makes me laugh. Again, it surprises me how much I really like being around her. She’s funny and cute, which is a strange combination when her body is made for sin.
I look at my watch and try to hide my smile.
“So, I guess we’re saying no to the trees right now, because the lot will be closed since it’s Sunday.” I tell her, slightly relieved.
“I guess so,” she sighs almost sounding broken hearted and making me feel guilty for not picking one of the fifty that she showed me. “I haven’t given up hope that eventually we will find one we can agree on. At least we got some lights and lawn decorations.”
“At least there’s that,” I answer, feeling sad that my lawn is going to look like Santa’s sleigh vomited on it. “I’m hungry. You feel like grabbing some lunch before we go back and start decorating?” I suggest.
I want to spend more time with her and there’s the added bonus that I really should eat now. If I wait until all that crap has to be put up in my yard, I’ll probably lose my appetite.
“I’d really like that,” she answers, smiling at me. She’s got dimples. I hadn’t noticed those before. And, her eyes sparkle a bright, deep blue that reminds me of the water in Cabo, and in that moment I almost like her eyes more than her ass.
It might be time to start worrying about little Miss Christmas Joy.
Chapter 7
Joy
I can’t believe what a great time I’m having with Eb. He’s funny and attentive and he keeps touching me. It’s nothing really out of the way. He puts his hand on my back as we walk, he brushes hair from my face, or he holds my hand. I’ve never had a man be this attentive before. It makes me feel… special.
I was delighted he asked me out to eat. I really didn’t want our time together to end. We walk to the local café and we find a small table by a window. Outside the window is a huge juniper tree that the city has decorated. I watch the lights twinkling and smile.
“You really love this Christmas shit, don’t you?” Eb asks and he sounds surprised. I turn to look at him in shock.
“It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” I answer, laughing. “Don’t you like it?” I ask him after a little bit of silence. I’m confused, if he doesn’t actually like Christmas then I don’t understand why I am here.
“Of course I do,” he says, looking around the café. “If I didn’t there’d be no reason for you to decorate for me… right?” he says, his gaze coming back to me.