Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 67492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“Only child.”
“So you get lots of quiet.” I lean into his shoulder with mine.
“Something like that.” He clears his throat. “What’s on this list of yours?” he asks, finally pulling his gaze away from the Christmas tree.
“Okay.” Reaching into my bag, I retrieve my tablet and power it on. “I was thinking we could set the stage by the tree. That way the tree can be our backdrop. The manor has round tables that seat ten, so I thought we could space them out around the perimeter of the room. That’s five couples per table.”
“Not everyone is a couple.”
“True, but very rarely do people come to these things solo.”
“Are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Are you coming alone?”
“I am.” I nod slowly. “I’ll be working, so there will be no time for me to entertain a date.” I pause as I tell myself not to ask him, but the words are out before I can stop them. “What about you?”
“I don’t date.”
“Never?”
“Not for a long time.”
Not only has the sexy grump awakened desire in me, but now he’s piqued my curiosity. I have no right to ask him, and I won’t. Not tonight anyway.
“If we’re spacing the tables around the perimeter, what’s going in the center?” he asks. His tone of voice almost has me believing he’s genuinely interested. Almost.
“The dance floor, of course.”
“Right.” He nods.
“Did you not pay attention when you attended in years past?” I know he’s attended because his name is on the guest list for two tickets every year.
“I’ve never attended.”
“But you buy tickets?” I tilt my head to the side as I study him. He really is too damn handsome for his own good. Too bad his personality doesn’t match the spectacular packaging.
He shrugs. “I’ve bought tickets yearly since being hired at Willow River General. I gift them to my parents. I’m helping my employer, and it’s a great cause each year. Besides, my mom loves this kind of thing.”
“She sounds like my kind of girl.”
He turns to face me and studies me for several long heartbeats. “Yeah, you and my mom would get along.” His voice is soft, almost as if it pains him to speak the words.
“How can you hate Christmas so much growing up with a mom who loves it?” It’s an intrusive question, but I’m too damn curious to feel guilty for asking.
He shrugs. “What else is on your list?”
Fine. He doesn’t have to answer my question, but dammit, I’m going to make him enjoy this holiday and this gala if it’s the last thing I do.
“I thought we could have the deejay set up over there.” I point to the far-right corner. “Hilary already had that scheduled. Do you have any song requests? Maybe your favorite Christmas song?”
He gives me a look. You know, the kind that doesn’t need words. His look is saying, “You know better than that.”
“Fine, no favorite holiday song. Sheesh, tough crowd,” I mutter, and if I wasn’t witnessing it for myself, I never would have believed it. His mouth tips up in a small smile. Before I can think about what I’m doing, I reach out and place my hand on his forehead. “You feeling okay there, Ollie?” I tease him.
“Oliver,” he replies. His voice is low and gruff. His hand wraps around my wrist, and he places my hand on his cheek. “I feel just fine. How about you, Ms. Kincaid? How are you feeling?”
Oh, fuck a duck. This is flirting. The hot, grumpy asshole doctor is flirting with me, and God help me, I know we work together and it’s wrong, but I’m leaning into it. Leaning into him.
“Feeling a little… feverish. I mean festive.” I smirk.
“Yeah? And what can I do to help you with that?”
Sweet baby Jesus in a manger. Why do I find him so hot? Clearing my throat, I smile up at him. “There is one thing.” I bite down on my bottom lip while he licks at his as he watches the action.
He steps closer. “What’s that?”
“We need to test it out,” I tell him. His eyes heat. I’ve read about eyes being liquid pools of desire, but I’ve never witnessed it myself, not until this very moment.
“Test what, Blake?”
I like how he shortens my name as if we already have familiarity between us. Moving my hand, I place both of mine on his shoulders and step even closer so that my body is aligned with his. On instinct, his hands go to my hips. He’s gripping me tightly, holding me close to him.
I smile up at him while his eyes smolder down at me. Desire rushes between my thighs, and I know I’m playing with fire, but I can’t seem to find it in me to care. “The dance floor,” I whisper.
“You want to dance with me?”
I nod. Suddenly, the girl who always has something to say can’t seem to find her voice.