Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
He chuckles. “If only you knew.”
My guts fill with dread. “Really? That … That sounds bad.”
“Well, it sure ain’t good.”
I know he’s enjoying this. I know he’s trying to get a rise out of me. I guess I’m going to have to comfort myself here, seeing as this guy clearly has no intention of putting me at ease. “At least I didn’t take down the whole tree.”
He chuckles again, this time with a note of mockery. “Really? You think you could’ve knocked down this monster?”
I frown against the branches. “I fell into it pretty hard.”
“All ninety-nothin’ pounds of you?”
Just when I’m about to protest, his grip tightens around my waist, reminding me his arm is there. I feel his body press even more firmly against my back. His breaths grow closer to my ear.
Ninety-nothing pounds of me, he said.
His grip around my waist feels so authoritative and firm, I wonder if he’s some strong, local handyman Nadine hired. Maybe he could lug me over a shoulder like a sack of flour with ease. Toss me halfway across a room. Bench-press me in his barn.
I clench shut my eyes, aghast at myself.
Why is my mind going to these places?
It’s been a very, very long time since a guy has touched me. At all. Not even a kiss. Not a stroke of a hand on my cheek. Not even a hand in my hand, strolling down the sidewalk. Nothing.
Now I’ve got a young, sexy-voiced stranger I still haven’t seen all over me like a curious dog invading my space, sniffing here, pawing there, probably mere inches away from lapping at my cheek with his tongue or taking a playful nip at my earlobe.
I can’t tell whether I’m being violated or insanely turned on.
“I-I’m pretty sure I’ve had nightmares like this,” I ramble in an attempt to distract myself. Why am I nervous? Why is my heart racing? “N-Nightmares where a giant, sentient Christmas tree was trying to eat me alive …”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.” Is it true, though? As it turns out, I can’t think straight when a guy I just met is humping my ass. “I’ve never really liked Christmastime.”
“Go on, keep telling me how much you hate the holidays.”
“Why?”
“It keeps you occupied while I work on freein’ you.”
I frown. Now he’s managing me like a child? “I can keep still without mind games, y’know. And as if I needed another reason to hate Christmas, now Nadine’s tree is trying to kill me.”
“Hmm, first-name basis with the boss lady, I noticed.”
“She’s not my boss.” Suddenly, I reconsider that. Is she my boss? She owns my father’s restaurant. It’s even named after her. And I’ve been working under my dad ever since finally giving up my dead-end job at that terrible, hipster internet café. “Well, not exactly, anyway. Maybe she’s my dad’s boss. He’s her main chef.”
“Dad’s boss? Main chef?” His hands stop. “Now wait a sec …”
“Am I free yet?”
“The Strongs only own a few businesses ‘round here, and one of ‘em closed down not too long ago …”
“My back hurts. My legs are stiff. I want to be out of this tree.”
“And seein’ as you’re clearly not from around here …”
“Is my scarf free or not?”
“You must be from Fairview. And the only business they have in Fairview that I know of is her restaurant Nadine’s, which means your dad can only be Mario Tucci, which means—”
Something gives.
My foot slips out from underneath me.
The moment I go sliding to my doom like a wet banana peel, his grip around my waist tightens. Unfortunately, that means his own footing becomes compromised, and in the space of three and a half seconds, the pair of us tumble to the floor together.
I land directly on top of him somehow, full-weight.
And our lips smash together.
Chapter 3
Nice To Meet You.
My eyes pop open in alarm, mid-unintentional-kiss.
And I find myself staring down into the prettiest set of bright, aquamarine eyes I have ever known.
Infinite in depth. Blue, watery galaxies for irises.
Alive, compassionate, and sensitive.
Crystalline, soft, and sparkling with emotion.
In other words: the polar opposite of everything I expected, judging from his strong grip on me, invasive handling of my body, and incessant taunting.
I lift my face off of his at once, aghast. “S-Sorry!”
The shock in his eyes is instantly replaced with amusement. “I mean, usually a fella’s gotta take me on a dinner date first—at the very least—before we go crashin’ lips.”
I was about to apologize again and climb off of him.
But his words stop me. “Huh?”
“But hey, I’m not complainin’ if you give away your kisses all willy-nilly for free. Isn’t it the season for giving, anyway?”
The magic is broken. I frown. “I tripped and fell, you ass.”
“Are you sure you’re not some loose, kiss-giving holiday elf? Kinda feels like you stole second base here.”
“Kissing is first base.”