Hunk for X-Mas

by Cheri Wood

  I hear as well as see her take a deep, heaving breath, collecting herself, and I quell the urge to ask her to stay a little while longer.

  “I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep tonight,” she says after a few minutes. “Would you mind staying for a bit and having some tea with me?”

  “Of course. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

  She smiles shyly at me and opens her door, stepping out. I take my keys out of the ignition and lock up the car before following her up to her front door. As she slides her key in the door, she looks over her shoulder at me.

  “I’ll send the sitter home. Please don’t say anything to her about the party.”

  “Of course not,” I assure her, and she nods before turning back to open the door.

  The sitter is an attractive blonde in her 20s, probably about the same age as Emily, and she gives me a once-over I’m sure Jorah gets all the time. He’d probably wink at her, but I’m not him. I greet her politely and ask Emily where the kitchen is.

  I put the kettle on while she sends off the sitter and I check the little pots on the kitchen shelf for herbal tea, figuring Emily could do with some chamomile. It’s a nice, homey kitchen, and I can picture Emily cooking dinner for herself and her daughter in here. A jolt of pain hits my chest and I realize how much I miss those early days when Mom was alive, taking care of us. Around the holidays, the kitchen would smell of roasted turkey, gingerbread cookies, and hot cider.

  I’m pulled out of my thoughts as the kettle whistles, and I realize Emily has entered the kitchen.

  “Everything okay with your sitter?” I ask her as she grabs two mugs out of a cupboard.

  “Yes. Katie’s fast asleep, and Carly managed to get some writing done, so she was happy.”

  “She’s a writer?” I ask, pouring the water over the chamomile infusion pouches I found.

  “Grad student. She’s working on her doctorate.”

  “Ah.”

  “Did you… um… where did you go to college?” she asks cautiously.

  Well, Jorah went to Florida state, and I went to MIT, but I doubt she’d believe I’d be working as a male exotic dancer if I had a degree I could use for something else. So I lie.

  “I… uh… dropped out junior year. It wasn’t for me.”

  She picks up our mugs and heads into the lounge room. She sets the mugs down on the table and curls up on the couch, holding a pillow to her chest. I take a seat in an armchair to the side of her.

  “What made you go into… um… your line of work?” she asks tentatively.

  I inwardly cringe and scold my brother for putting me in this awkward situation. I have to answer her truthfully, if not accurately. “I guess because I’m good at it.” It’s true about my web design business.

  “Do you… I mean, how long do you expect to be able to do the work?”

  “For as long as I have clients, I suppose.” I take a drink of my tea, hoping she’ll drop the subject so I don’t have to lie any more.

  “I’m sorry,” she says softly, sipping her own tea. “I didn’t mean to—“

  “Why don’t you tell me about your daughter?” I say, changing the subject. “Is she the quiet type?”

  Emily smiles, as I hoped she would. “Very rarely. The first few months, she kept me up all night. I was so tired, I fell asleep as soon as I sat down anywhere.”

  “I can’t even imagine doing it all on your own. I admire your strength.”

  She shrugs. “I did what I had to do.”

  “My mom wasn’t a single mother, but our father wasn’t around much.”

  “You have siblings?”

  “A brother.”

  “Older or younger?”

  “I’m the older brother,” I answer truthfully.

  “Ah. That makes sense.” She smiles wistfully.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’re protective. Even of someone you’ve just met. Thanks for that, by the way. I don’t know what I would have done if—”

  She shudders, and I shake my head to let her know she doesn’t need to say the words. “Do you have siblings, Emily?”

  “No. No, I’m an only child. I’d hoped to one day have a family of my own, with lots of kids. Just… you know, after I’d finished college and got married and all that…”

  “Life doesn’t always turn out the way we plan it,” I say softly.

  She chuckles humorlessly, “Tell me about it.”

  “Can I ask you something?” she says after a few quiet moments.

  My stomach knots, but I shrug. “Shoot.”

  “What made you agree to this date?”

  “Um… my brother, actually.”

  “Really? How so?” she asks, frowning.

  “He’s always on my case about dating, and I figured I’d might as well start somewhere. I mean, on a date that wasn’t really a date…”

  “Were you…” she plucks at her throw pillow. “Were you disappointed that I was the blind date and not one of the other girls at the bachelorette party?”

  “Hell no,” I blurt. Not that I know who any of the people were at the party that Jorah worked, but I could never be disappointed with Emily for a date. “I mean, I don’t want to come off as if I’m putting the moves on you or anything, but from a purely objective perspective, you are a gorgeous woman, Emily. And having spent just a short amount of time with you, I can tell you’re a great person, too.”

  She blushes, and it’s adorable. “I wasn’t fishing for compliments, but thank you for saying that.”

  “I was just stating the facts,” I say with a shrug as if this wasn’t one of the few times tonight I have told the absolute truth. If only I’d met Emily under different circumstances, I would ask her out again to get to know her better.

  “I’m really glad you were my date tonight, Jorah,” she says, putting down her empty mug. “And if I was in a different place in my life…”

  I should be relieved that she’s giving me the brush-off so I don’t have to, but I don’t feel relieved. I just feel sad.

  “I understand,” I say, saving her the lengthy explanation. “It’s not right… right now.”

  She gives me a sad smile. “I don’t know that I’ll ever be right for anyone.”

  I shake my head, resisting the urge to gather her close. “It’s not about you being right for anyone – it’s about the right person being deserving of you.”

  “You’re really sweet,” she says, blinking. Then she yawns.

  “I should get going,” I say, pushing myself out of my seat. “Do you think you’ll be able to get some sleep now?”

  She yawns again and smiles. “I think I could use some shut-eye before Katie wakes up.”

  “I’ll be heading off, then,” I say, making my way over to the front door. Emily drowsily follows me and waits for me to put my coat on.

  “Thank you for everything, Jorah,” she says softly, leaning against the wall. “I— I’m glad I met you.”

  “Same,” I tell her honestly. “Take care of yourself.”

  She steps forward and I put my arms around her in a farewell hug. I can’t help but smell her hair and feel her body mold against mine, and I inwardly curse out my brother. When she lifts her head, she glances up at the decoration above the door. I follow her gaze and spot the mistletoe.

  “Carly must have put that up tonight,” she says by way of explanation, but her voice is clearly affected. By what, I can’t be sure. So I ask.

  “May I kiss you goodbye?”

  Her cheeks grow pink and she nods. “I’d like that.”

  I slowly lower my lips to hers, giving her ample time to move away. But she tilts her head up in invitation and I brush my lips against her, only briefly allowing myself to taste her. I want to leave her with a positive memory of tonight, not the forced kisses she probably had to endure from her sleazy-ass boss. And so I pull back before she does, stroking her cheek gently before opening the door.

  “Goodbye, Emily,” I say and s
he nods her farewell, locking the door behind me.

  I’m going to kill Jorah.

  Emily

  After a fitful sleep, Katie wakes me with a wail. I tend to her in a daze, going about my day as usual, unsure whether yesterday happened or if it was just a weird part-dream, part-nightmare I had. When my phone buzzes with a text from Tiffany, asking for “all the deets” on my date with the stripper, I know for sure yesterday was real.

  Long story, I write her back, too mentally and physically exhausted to go into details. Of course, Tiffany won’t take the hint.

  Meet me @ the mall. 3 PM. Katie needs a photo w/ Santa and u need to tell me everything!

  Katie is excited to be at the mall, pointing to all the decorations and lights and practically dragging me and Tiffany to the Santa display.

  At least with Katie as buffer, I’ve been able to hold off telling Tiffany about last night. I spent this morning on the phone with HR, and with the police, discussing how I wanted to proceed. I could file assault charges, and so could he – against Jorah. Or I could take a decent-sized settlement and find myself another job somewhere else. Nick isn’t going to be pushed out at the firm as long as he’s making them millions, but at least there’ll be enough talk around the office to warn others to keep their distance. And HR assured me that from now on, Nick will only be assigned male assistants. The whole thing is incredibly unfair, but I have to do what is best for Katie. And with the settlement money, I can take some time off to finish school and get a better-paying job afterwards.

  “Hey, Em,” Tiffany says, shaking my shoulder to get my attention. “Do you want to be in the photo with Katie?”

  I blink. “Oh. No, you go ahead, sweetie,” I tell Katie, gesturing for her to go with the pretty pixie-cut elf up to Santa’s throne. She only hesitates for a split second before bounding up the steps.

  “What’s up with you today?” Tiffany asks as we watch Katie talking to Santa. “Did you date blow your mind, or what?”

  I scoff. “You’re hilarious.”

  “Come on, you gotta give me something, or I’m coming over tonight after Katie’s asleep.”

  I sigh. “Fine. Jorah was a gentleman, and rearranged my boss’s face.”

  Tiffany makes a noise that sounds a lot like she’s choking. “Okay, I’m definitely going to need more than that.”

  “Later,” I mumble, as the elf is bringing Katie back. I scoop her up and nuzzle her. “Was it fun?” I ask her, and she nods. “Are you hungry?” I ask, and again she nods.

  “Food court it is,” Tiffany announces, taking Katie from me and leaving me to push the stroller while Katie bounces on Tiffany’s hip, laughing all the way.

  “Ho-ho-ho,” the mall Santa booms and I startle, my gaze falling on a couple under a mistletoe, kissing passionately. The sight makes me think of the kisses I shared with Jorah last night, and how he set my entire body on fire with just the tip of his tongue. The memory has my skin flushing with heat and my nipples tightening.

  The couple under the mistletoe break apart, and I freeze. Startling blue eyes meet mine across the space, and the shock sends a jolt through my body. This time, there’s no heat to it whatsoever.

  Jorah looks at me as if he can’t quite place me at first, and then the women he was just kissing pulls him in the opposite direction. He looks over his shoulder as she drags him away, and I think he’s cursing as he recognizes me.

  I shake my head and start walking towards the food court. How silly of me to think that Jorah might actually be interested in seeing me again after last night. He didn’t even hint at it, for crying out loud. It was one blind date only set up out of necessity. Of course he could be out with another woman today. Except… he said he didn’t date much. Or was that a lie?

  “Hey… you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Tiffany says and I realize I’ve made it to the food court in a haze. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I mean, I just saw Jorah kissing some woman. It caught me by surprise, is all.”

  “Ah.”

  There’s something off about Tiffany’s reaction, and the way she’s looking around the food court all of a sudden has me frowning.

  “Tiff…”

  “Okay, so there’s something I should tell you.”

  I pick up Katie and put her in a high-chair. “What do you want to eat, Katie? Tiffy is getting us whatever we like today.” I have a feeling she owes me big-time.

  Jordan

  “Hey, bro, what’s up?”

  I close my eyes and lean my head back against the headrest on my office chair, steeling myself for whatever Jorah might say next. He doesn’t usually call me in the middle of the day.

  “What did you do?”

  “I was at the mall today with a client…”

  “Uh-huh…” The only reason he’d be telling me this is that he’s fucked up in some way.

  “And that chick from the bachelorette party was there. The one you went out with last night.”

  I sit up straight as if I’ve just had a bucket of ice water dumped on my head. Emily. I’ve been distracted all day, unable to focus on work because I’ve kept kicking myself for kissing her when I knew I could never see her again.

  “Anyway… I think she saw me kissing this girl, and she looked upset. What the hell happened between you two last night?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “I’m serious, bro. You were only supposed to take her out and drop her off. You didn’t fuck her, did you?”

  I swear, if Jorah was here right this second, I would punch him in his pretty-boy face. “Screw you, man,” I snarl at him and hang up.

  I need to fix this. Emily deserves to know the truth.

  Emily

  Tiffany is definitely on my Naughty-list this Christmas. I can’t believe she paid Jorah to take me out! Or that he’s an escort. Am I really such a terrible judge of character? He came across as different from the stripper at the bachelorette party. Less extroverted. More sincere. Is that what he does for a living? Playacting? Becoming whoever his client wants him to be? What must he think of me?

  I shudder at the thought and turn off the light in Katie’s room so it’s just the soft glow of the nightlight placed at floor level left. I didn’t invite Tiffany over tonight. Setting me up with an escort promptly disqualified her from getting the so-called “full story” about last night.

  I wrap my knit cardigan tighter around myself and go to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. I’ve been out of sorts ever since Tiffany came clean about how she “convinced” Jorah to go with me to the office Christmas party. It explains a lot – like how he could turn me on with just a kiss, why he avoided some of my questions, and why he never asked for my number.

  But he beat up my boss. Why would he take that risk? I would think he’d want to steer clear of police in case they started investigating him and his business.

  I’m pouring my tea when there’s a knock on the door. Sighing, I shuffle over to the front door to tell Tiffany I was serious about not wanting to talk anymore tonight.

  “Tiff—” I start as I open the door, but I lose my voice and my stomach flips as Jorah the stripper slash escort is standing on the other side of the door, fixing his blue eyes on me.

  “Emily.”

  “What are you doing here?” I say, almost choking on the words. I hug myself to protect both against the cold seeping through the open door, and against anything he might say.

  “Could I come in? I’d like to explain some things.”

  He looks contrite, and nervous.

  “No need. My friend told me that she’d hired you. Obviously, that was news to me.”

  “I’d really like to explain…”

  “Listen, Jorah—”

  “Jordan,” he cuts me off.

  “Huh?”

  “My name’s not Jorah. It’s Jordan. Jorah is my twin brother and while he is both a stripper and an escort, I really am a reclusive web designer. Please, Emily, I’d really like for you to get to know the
real me.”

  I stare at him, too stunned to think of anything to say. Maybe he’s got split personalities, or something. He could be dangerous.

  “I’m sorry to dump all this on you, I really am. But Jorah called me today and said he’d seen you at the mall, and I just couldn’t let you think that our kiss last night didn’t mean anything. Because it did. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth? That you’re not just playing me for a fool? I mean, the evil twin trope is a staple of daytime drama.”

  He reaches into his inside jacket pocket and pulls out his phone. Not gonna lie, for a split second there, I thought for sure he was going to pull a gun on me. ‘Single mom murdered by Jekyll-Hyde stripper-escort’.

  He swipes through his phone until he finds something, and holds out the phone to me so I can see the picture on the screen. Two near-identical men with their arms over each other’s shoulders.

  “Jorah’s into weight-lifting,” the man at my door says, pointing to a slightly more built version of himself on the screen. “Apart from that, we’re pretty much the same. Except, you know…”

  “The stripper thing,” I say, finally finding my voice again.

  “Yeah, the stripper thing,” he says, his cheeks reddening slightly. “And, well, I’m also pretty much the opposite of him when it comes to social stuff.”

  I shake my head, attempting to make the puzzle piece shift into place. Maybe he wasn’t quite as muscular as the man who had thrust his pelvis at me a couple of nights ago. To be fair, I’d been a bit distracted that night, and the man I went out with last night never took his shirt off or anything. But I knew one thing for sure – the man I’d gone out with last night had made me feel safe.

  “Emily? Any chance you might let me in? I didn’t dress for an arctic expedition tonight, but it’s starting to feel like I should have.”

  His slightly crooked smile and warm eyes has me stepping back to let him in and to close the door.