Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29000 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
I shake my head and shift back. “No, thank you.”
“Just a little one,” she wheedles. “A tiny little lick.”
“No,” I insist, refusing to think about other things I’d like to get my mouth on—like Holly’s plush lips and her elegant neck and all the tempting curves beneath her reindeer costume.
The only thing more mortifying than getting caught stealing by a childhood friend is realizing I want to ravage her on the food prep table.
If someone had asked me before tonight if I’d ever be attracted to Holly Jo Hadley, I would have laughed until I made myself sick. Holly Jo was a cute kid, I guess, but she also spent most of the winter wiping her nose on her sleeve and refusing to brush her sock cap hair. Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that chaotic child would grow up to be the kind of woman who looks sexy as hell, even in a ridiculous one-piece reindeer costume.
She pursues me across the kitchen, advancing each time I take a step back until my back is against the counter and the spoon—and her flushed face—are far too close to mine.
“I triple hairy dog dare you,” she whispers, close enough that I can feel her body heat warming me through my clothes.
I grunt. “Going straight for the big guns, I see.”
“You never could resist a dare,” she says. “Especially a triple hairy dog dare, my personal specialty.”
“No, I couldn’t,” I murmur, too distracted by the smell of her—evergreen needles and peppermint with a hint of baked goods that I’m finding strangely irresistible—to realize I’ve made a misstep.
Until she says, “So you do remember me. I thought you might.”
“I remember the dare,” I say, but it’s too late. She’s on to me and I’ve been without whiskey for too long to keep lying. I take a breath and confess, “But yes, I do. Of course, I do.”
“So why pretend you didn’t?” she asks, so close now that her breasts are inches from my chest and I’m afraid I’m going to embarrass myself. It’s been so long since I was attracted to a woman—I’ve been buried in work for so many years I’m pretty sure I’ve forgotten how to date—I’d started to assume I wasn’t interested anymore.
But I’m suddenly very interested, and seconds from developing an embarrassing hard-on from proximity to a woman in a reindeer onesie.
“I’m an asshole,” I blurt out, some instinct within me deciding brutal honesty is the best way to nip this strange chemistry in the bud. “The kind of asshole who enjoys making other people feel small and forgettable.”
“Bullshit,” she says, surprising me. “That lie wasn’t about me. It was about you.”
My brows shoot up. “Me?”
“Yes. You lied to protect yourself. You were embarrassed that you still remembered me, even after all these years and all the big, important things you’ve accomplished in your big, important life.” She tips her head back, making my entire being ache for a taste of her lips. “But you still remember Holly Jo Hadley, a silly little girl who thought you hung the moon.”
“You weren’t silly,” I hear myself rasp. “You were…wonderful.”
Her eyes widen. The corner of her mouth lilts into a pleased smile.
“Open up,” she teases. “Come on.”
Except we’re no longer childhood playmates.
And her hand holding the spoon with the dough has lowered so beef broth and peanut butter no longer feels like a valid threat. Suddenly, there’s something much more dangerous than dog food afoot…
Suddenly, I want to kiss Holly Jo Hadley.
I’m going to kiss Holly Jo Hadley.
My lips are moving slowly, but inexorably toward hers when there’s a loud bang behind Holly on the prep table.
We both jump. Me out of guilt because what the hell am I thinking? Not with my brain, that’s for damn sure. She whirls around. I peer dumbly around her.
And see a chipmunk with a tiny fist digging into the dough.
“Andy!” Holly says, propping her hands on her hips. “What have I told you about stealing food? Not cool, buddy.”
Because of course Holly has a pet chipmunk. Holly probably has a house filled to the brim with nature décor from Kathy’s Kountry Store, including a Santa hat for Andy the biscuit thief.
Maybe she likes thieves.
I take a sip of my coffee and try to be grateful for the stripy rat and his impeccable timing. After all, he’s prevented me from losing my mind and getting tangled up—literally—with Holly.
But if I’m honest, I’d like to lock the little cock blocker in the nearest closet while I find out if Holly tastes as incredible as she smells.
Apparently, the feeling is mutual.
Andy locks eyes with me, raises his fist, and shakes it.
Well, then…
Game on, you button-eyed party crasher. Game. On.
Chapter Four
HOLLY
Luke looks like he wants to throttle Andy.
I’m tempted to throttle Andy myself, but he’s too cute to harm a hair on his furry little face. So, I settle for a stern glare to express my displeasure with his paws in my batter, and more importantly, his terrible timing. Luke and I were sharing a moment that could have led to the fulfillment of a lifelong fantasy of mine—to kiss Luke Ratcliffe.