Unwrapping The Holidays. Sheryl Lister
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His brows went up. “You’re so tiny though.”
“I am small but mighty.”
He smirked. “Anyway, if you want some help with some of the lights, we can do that before we eat.”
Jamison couldn’t believe her ears. “Mr. Bah Humbug wants to help?”
He shrugged. “You’re the size of an elf—you’ll never be able to get them up there. Besides, your sweater might catch fire with all those lights. And you seem super into it, so whatever.”
She glanced down. “This sweater is awesome. You’re just jealous they don’t have one this cool down in the gift shop for you. But you know what, I’ll find one for you, as a thank-you.”
His brow furrowed. “I’m good. You don’t need to thank me any more.”
Jamie glanced at her laptop and hit Save out of habit. The system autosaved her project, but she wasn’t taking any chances. “Oh, but I really, really want to.” Laughing as she stood, she had to crane her neck to look up at him.
Stretching out her muscles, she worked out the kinks as she followed him toward the aroma of pepperoni pizza. Her stomach rumbled.
“Okay, maybe we’ll get food first, then.”
Jamison laughed. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Nope. Given the roar of your belly, I don’t want to see what happens if I don’t feed you.” He pulled down the plates and glasses and grabbed a couple of sodas out of the fridge.
This was weird and at the same time totally normal. Like they did this all the time. Nevermind the pink elephant in the room. Jamison thought she’d be more nervous talking to him, but he was so much mellower than she remembered. There was still an intensity to him and her skin still prickled with heat every time she felt his gaze on her, but this she could do. Act like a normal person and not a hormonal teenager.
Normal... Right. Besides, she had a hell of a lot of work to do. She’d run into a glitch in the maze. She was missing something, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It was technically fine, but she didn’t do fine. Fine was not in her vocabulary. It needed to be outstanding. She needed a miracle so she had to be better than fine.
“You’re frowning. Why?”
Cole’s voice had a way of melting through her inner dialogue with herself. “Shoot, sorry, when I’m working, I tend to get all in my head and forget I’m meant to be talking to real people. Bad habit. So why don’t you tell me all about Cole Nichols. And not the boring sanitized school, work, location stuff. Real stuff. Like where are all the bodies buried.”
He laughed. “What makes you think I’d tell you that? For all you know you’ll be joining them.”
“I’m pretty sure I could take you. I’m small but mighty.” She took another delicate bite.
Cole’s eyes narrowed and sharpened on her lips. When he spoke, his voice was harsher, deeper. “You’re the size of a Smurf.” He looked like he wanted to say something else but snapped his mouth shut. His gaze locked with hers. The intensity of it nearly scorching her skin.
She should look away from him...except she couldn’t. If she wasn’t careful, she’d soon be doing that uncomfortable staring thing and he would know she was crazy. “I’ll take that to mean I’m sprightly! And sprightly wins over dark and broody any day.”
“I am not dark and broody.” He scoffed.
“I know your shtick. You act all bah humbugy, but you’re a good guy. After all, you let a relative, Christmas-loving, stranger stay with you when you were clearly not in the Christmas mood. Someone like that wouldn’t have bodies buried out back.”
Cole just shrugged. “You’re supposed to help elves. It’s like a Christmas rule or something.”
“Don’t think I don’t recognize deflection when I see it.”
It was a good thing Cole Nichols didn’t walk around with a grin all the time; women everywhere would be left quivering in his wake. The flash of teeth and the crinkling of his eyes at the corners and she was about to melt in a pool of warm gooeyness. “I have to remember you’re sharper than most.”
“Come on, no little details about what you’ve been up to all this time?”
He shook his head. “Not much to say if I can’t talk about work or where I live or where I went to school.”
Jamie stared at him. “Oh come on, no adventures, hiking the Andes, BASE jumping off the Eiffel Tower, no supermodel girlfriend in Antibes or Saint-Tropez? You’re ruining my image of the mysterious Cole Nichols.”
His laugh was quick. “I’m not mysterious. I’m an open book.”
Jamie raised a brow. “Okay, so what’s your deal—girlfriend, married? Why are you spending the holiday alone?” Why did you ask that? Why? A muzzle would be a good idea.
The teasing glint went out of his eyes in an instant. His one-word answer said it all. “Nope.” And the subject change was so quick it gave her whiplash. “You ready to put up those lights now? Or do you want the last piece?”
She glanced down at the pizza. Between the two of them they’d managed to eat seven of eight slices. Three of them she’d eaten herself. “Yeah, the lights seem like a good idea.”
Lights. Yes, more decorating. Then she’d get back to work. Deal with the task in front of her. Do what she came to do. Not drool over Cole. Because, well, she really should have learned her lesson by now.
For the next ten minutes, they worked in relative companionship. He even smiled once or twice. He might not like Christmas but he was letting her enjoy hers, which was pretty decent of him.
She turned to ask him for the next set of lights, but her foot slipped on the stool.
In a flash, Cole wrapped both arms around her, bringing his body flush against hers, and Jamison lost everything she’d perhaps ever had in her brain. Gone. Poof.
Jamie sucked in a deep breath. Cole stood statue-like as his hands flexed across her back. Tension wrapped around them, then crackled and Jamison didn’t know when she’d so acutely felt every feminine instinct.
He quickly held her away an inch, but if she dared breathe again, her nipples were going to rub against his chest. She could feel his hands moving behind her as they stood, gazes locked, bodies not otherwise moving. Holy hell. Cole Nichols was just about the sexiest man she’d ever seen in her life. Easy does it. Remember last time you went down this path?
Sure, he had an angled, sculpted jaw and cheekbones that made supermodels jealous and his dark lashes framed clear dark eyes. And of course there was the hair. It just looked soft to the touch. And there was no forgetting his body. She wondered if his abs still had abs. More than once when she’d been a teenager, she’d lost time just by trying to count them. She always got a little distracted around four and had to start recounting.
But