Sexy Holiday Delights

by Shara Azod

  “Kevin…”

  “You were fearless today in that meeting.”

  Again, Kevin’s savvy plays surprised her. If she declined his offer again, she came off as being afraid. If she accepted his offer, then he got what he wanted. Not that his manipulation attempts shocked her, after observing how he manipulated Brooke earlier.

  “This is a working lunch.” She put her attention back on her work. Forcing herself to ignore him, she failed. The man was pure distraction. His thick fingers wrapped around the tawny Panera cup, and when the steam escaping from the cup’s rim created dampness along his lips, he licked them.

  She took a glance and eyed his empty other hand.

  Kevin caught her gaze, and as if reading her thoughts, said, “I ate two multi-grain bagels with honey walnut spread. Sweet Sandy served it to me.”

  She averted her eyes, more embarrassed at his sharp intelligence. Razors had nothing on him.

  Inclining her head to the opposite seat, she said, “Suit yourself.”

  “I’m sorry about what happened at the office.” His voice gentle, he slid into the opposite side of the booth.

  “But not sorry for how you’re behaving now?” Though his sincerity rang true to her heart, she couldn’t get caught up in his game.

  “Do you mind so much? I don’t want to take up a seat, and this place is about to be super busy.”

  “If you’re done…” Chloe trailed off as she didn’t know if continued close proximity would wear down her control.

  “Whatever.”

  She set about doing actual work. Her tablet’s high resolution screen blurred. Blinking, she realized it had to do with her. Redoubling her efforts to focus, she adjusted her posture, and dove into her email again.

  She read email, sent emails, but she wouldn’t be able to tell anyone what she’d said or what she’d written. Highly aware of Kevin’s eyes on her, she fought to concentrate.

  And lost.

  “Come here often?” he asked.

  He obviously intended to initiate small talk with her. It wasn’t her best idea, inviting him to sit down with her had only placed her in his web. Still, she couldn’t deny the comfortable feeling inside her. Maybe the soup warmed her, and she had attached those feelings to Kevin.

  No. As good as the creamy tomato soup had been, it couldn’t conjure these feelings. Cravings transcended the carnal appetite and no amount of food could save it.

  “Does it matter?” she asked, not looking up, feigning indifference.

  “This isn’t a bad date,” Kevin commented and sipped. “It would be better if you talked to me.”

  “This isn’t a date.”

  “Of course not.”

  A silence swelled between them. She kept opening emails, but she found herself reading them over and over again and not knowing what they said.

  “So, can we have a real date?” Kevin leaned on his elbows across the table.

  “Kevin, we’ve been over this…” The thump, thump of her heart sped up at the thought. What if she did?

  “I’m not what you think I am. You don’t even know me.” He frowned.

  She arched an eyebrow. “No?”

  “Oh, come on. You don’t honestly believe I’m a womanizer. It’s an unsubstantiated claim.”

  “I can make any claims I see fit.” She tapped her nails on the table. He’d make a damn good attorney.

  “The First Amendment allows it, sure, but you’re much too smart to believe in stereotypes.” Kevin leaned back, and fiddled with his now-empty cup.

  She snorted. “You don’t take no for an answer.”

  “I’m very determined when I want something or someone.”

  Those words inspired chills that rained down her spine. Clear, but burning green eyes pinned her to the spot. With her throat dry and her panties wet, she couldn’t logically invalidate his statements. But she didn’t have to—not really.

  Only she wanted—deep down inside—to try Kevin. One date wouldn’t be the end of the world. She found his full-court press charming, handsome, and smart. Kevin made an attractive package. One she admitted she wouldn’t mind unwrapping.

  Slow down, Chloe.

  But now that she thought it, she couldn’t un-think it. Her imagination released a stream of possibilities--her nipping at his cleft chin, her hands stroking his hardened biceps, and her nails trailing down his delicious back…

  “Goodbye!” She scooted out of the booth seat and tossed items into her satchel. Suddenly hot, she had to get out of there and into the North Carolina winter. Just like in the C.A.K.E. conference room, Chloe felt the overwhelming urge to kiss Kevin deep, and search his mouth with her tongue, either of which would not pan out well. Experience had taught her that.

  “So, I’ll see you tomorrow night, about seven?” he said, the dare in his tone evident.

  He’d scooted out of the booth, too and stood waiting, his eyes twinkling as if he knew—knew—she wouldn’t back down from the challenge.

  Chloe never backed down from a challenge—especially from a man like Kevin O’Bryan.

  “I already have plans,” she snapped.

  “Really?” Crestfallen, he threw his hands up in disbelief.

  “Look. I don’t give a damn if you believe me or not.” She snatched up her satchel, spun on her heel, and stalked out of the restaurant.

  He followed her and as she reached the sidewalk, he smiled. “So that’s not a hard no, right?”

  “You’re impossible.” Chloe jerked away, not running, but putting in one hell of a powerwalk to her car.

  Chapter 5: Dried Fruits

  December 24

  Unlike the annual C.A.K.E. St. Patrick’s Day party, Christmas Eve dinner at Stephen’s was more low-key.

  Usually, the ballroom-size entertainment room’s doors would be closed, and the rest of the house draped in holiday cheer, miniature Christmas trees in every bedroom, wreathes on closet doors, and the aroma of good food filling the hallways. This year, Cree had chosen a blue-white Christmas theme, and on his invitation to the dinner, Kevin had been instructed to wear white or winter-white and blue. He’d done his best, securing a winter-white dinner jacket, cerulean-blue dress shirt, and cream tie. Wearing his Carolina cufflinks, he still sported his favorite shade of blue, but he’d let pass the closeness of Cree’s color scheme to Duke’s blue.

  He parked his car in the large driveway in front of the mansion. As he exited his nice, boring rental car, he was met with holiday music being piped through the mansion’s sound system and out across the grounds. Normally, he enjoyed these dinners. Delicious, fabulous food and drink, lovely women, lively conversation, after-dinner cigars in Stephen’s study, and then off to bed in time for him to get up the next day for Christmas with his brothers and their families.

  Perfect way to celebrate the holiday.

  Except he’d done it that way for over sixteen years.

  He sighed. Some of the pleasure had waned, and he knew why.

  Chloe Reese.

  “Kevin!” Cree greeted from the top of the flat marble stairs leading up the front doors of the mansion. “You look stunning!”

  “You do too.” Kevin grabbed a small package from the passenger seat.

  “You’re such a charmer, Kev!” Cree wore a cream-colored sweater dress and matching boots, but all of her accessories, her earrings, pearl choker, and bracelets sparkled with sapphires. She wore her hair pinned up with sapphire-encrusted clip barrettes. Light makeup and lipstick finished Cree’s touches.

  “Are you all right?” She linked her arm through his and escorted him to the house. “You seem distracted. Is Stephen working you too hard?”

  “No, I’ve had some issues with my car.” He switched the subject.

  Part of his musings dealt with the fact that he’d asked Chloe to come to dinner with him, knowing full well that most people had plans on Christmas Eve, including himself. If she had agreed, he would’ve excused himself from tonight’s annual dinner. One, up until y
esterday, he’d never dream of missing the celebration for anything, except stomach illness and family emergencies.

  Why would he have done that?

  For a woman he didn’t even know?

  Yes. The honest answer scared him.

  Cree stopped and searched his face. “What is it?”

  Before her marriage to Stephen, she worked at C.A.K.E. and knew Kevin fairly well. Cree had amazing intuition. She could pick up on things from the simplest of casual comments, body language, and facial expressions.

  “Something’s really bothering you.” She squeezed his hand. “It’s more than your car.”

  “No. I’m fine. There’s a lot going on. My brother Logan’s wife is pregnant.” Kevin deflected the conversation to his brother.

  She paused. “That’s good. Right?”

  He nodded.

  “There you two are!” Stephen shouted in greeting.

  “Here I am,” Kevin tossed back and waved.

  Stephen stood just inside the door wearing an ear-to-ear grin and a suit that must’ve cost as much as some cars. High-end cars. All for a dinner with family and friends, because Stephen valued them more. He gave freely this time of year to charities and to those less fortunate.

  “You get your car situated?” Stephen shifted to look at the driveway. “Ah, the basic sedan. No sports car for you?”

  “I wouldn’t cheat on my Corvette®.” Kevin scowled.

  “Says the guy with more women then fingers,” Cree interjected.

  “With that, you can take your hands off my woman.” Stephen grinned, and held his hand out for Cree. Still giggling, she dislodged from Kevin. He smiled, but it was all for his wife. The man was absolutely smitten.

  “That hurt, Cree. Right here.” Kevin patted his heart.

  “You’ve got to have a heart first, in order to it injured,” Cree said with a laugh.

  “Be kind, Cree. Kevin’s heart is there, just waiting for the right one to start it.” Stephen kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry. I didn’t mess up your makeup.”

  “Good.” Cree hugged him close before walking back into the house.

  After they were inside, Percy, the butler, shut the door behind them. Kevin removed his overcoat, gave it to Percy, and followed Cree and Stephen across the foyer to the sitting room. Already the aromas of deliciousness filled the house. Kevin knew he’d done right to skip lunch.

  Stephen’s and Cree’s holiday dinner should be renamed Feasting with the Silvers.

  “I smell baked ham, with honey and brown sugar,” Kevin said, just as he entered the sitting room. Like most of the rooms in Stephen and Cree’s mansion, elegance won out over bling. Understated and expensive, the décor spoke to people who knew they had money, but didn’t need to shove it down their visitors’ throats. Light and airy, it contained two loveseats, both in Carolina blue, along with creamy-white throw pillows. He took a seat in the one closest to the window and relaxed.

  “Champagne, sir?” Percy asked, already holding a tray filled with champagne flutes. The butler didn’t wear the usual black and white suit, but, in keeping with the theme, a white tuxedo with blue tie and lapels. He looked ready for the opera, not serving a family Christmas Eve dinner. He dark eyes and weathered face broke into a grin. “Mr. O’Bryan?”

  “Oh, yeah. Thank you.” Kevin took the champagne and sipped. If heaven didn’t taste like this, it was probably good he wasn’t going. The beginnings of Jingle Bells started on the piped-in music, and he hummed along. Would he really avoided all of this —fine champagne, great food, and joy–to have dinner with Chloe?

  His muscles tensed up, and he sipped more to push the annoying question out of the way. What difference did it make? She wouldn’t go out with him, so why couldn’t he stop thinking about her?

  “Good evening, all,” came a familiar and seductive husk from the hallway outside the sitting room. “Happy Christmas!”

  Great, now I’m having auditory hallucinations.

  He had better stop drinking now, if he was hearing Chloe’s voice, and he was certain it had been hers. No other woman made the hairs on his body stand up or aroused him so. All of him tightened at the sound of her voice. He adjusted his pants, and tried, again, not to think about her. The drive over had been consumed with thoughts about her, his memory replaying scenes from his interaction with her yesterday. A woman had never affected him like this, and he didn’t like it.

  “Ah, you made it.” Cree rushed by the entrance to the sitting room, no doubt heading for the front door.

  “May I have your coat, madam?” Percy asked.

  Madam?

  Kevin sat up straight. Sure, two champagne flutes didn’t even begin to make him drunk, so why did he think he’d just heard Chloe’s voice? Obviously, he’d been thinking about her too hard. He got to his feet to go seek out a distraction to avoid being left alone with his thoughts. Historically, the only women at the dinners had been Cree, her mother, her cousin, Kenyatta, and a rotating carousel of aunts.

  If I could find Stephen, maybe we could watch a little television before dinner. He had to take his mind off of Chloe. As he left the sitting room and entered the hallway, he nearly collided with…

  “Oh, hello.” Chloe Reese shuffled backward. Cree steadied her, as she was just behind.

  “Careful!” Cree sighed.

  Kevin stood with his mouth slightly ajar. What’s she doing here?

  “Chloe, this is Kevin O’Bryan, a friend and co-worker of Stephen’s.” Cree gestured to him with a big smile on her face.

  “We’ve met.” Chloe chirped and with a slight nod, entered the sitting room. “Is this where we’re subjected to the slow, painful torture of smelling food we can’t eat yet?”

  “Yes!” Cree laughed. “I’m going to go check on my momma right now.”

  “Let me go say hi.” Chloe followed her down the hallway, and just as quickly as she appeared, was gone, leaving Kevin still rooted to the spot.

  So, she hadn’t lied.

  Kevin wondered out into the hallway, and followed their laughter and giggling until he found himself in the dining room. A dark-stained wood table had been draped with an ivory tablecloth of a high thread count, thick short candles, and settings of crystal glasses and fine china for eight. Cobalt-blue cloth napkins had been artfully folded and secured by silver rings. It gleamed and spoke of festive cheer, but what Kevin had his sights on sparkled much more.

  Chloe stood in the doorway leading from the dining room to the kitchen in silver stilettos. Ivory pants flowed over her curves and a matching cowl sweater topped off her outfit. Like Cree, all of her accessories, rings, bracelets, and necklace held sapphires and diamonds. Her hair had been swept up into a polished bun exposing her elegant neck. Kevin wanted to rain kisses along its expanse, all the way to her shoulder and around again.

  She must’ve felt his eyes on her, because she glanced at him over her shoulder. With a quirked eyebrow, and a playful grin on her thick cherry lips, she spoke. “Hungry?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you?” Cree piped up as she spilled in from the kitchen. She paused as her eyes darted from Chloe to him and back again. “There’s fruitcake slices on the buffet table. It’s sort of an appetizer. Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

  “I don’t do fruitcake,” Kevin said.

  Chloe turned to him fully with her champagne in one hand. “No? I bet you’ve never had it.”

  Kevin shrugged. “No. It’s full of nuts.”

  Chloe nodded. “Are you allergic?”

  “No.”

  “Nuts are good for you. Plus, this cake is rich and delicious. Sure, it has a fair share of nuts, but there’s sweetness in the dried and candied fruit. There’s also surprise in the spirits some people soak theirs in. Fruitcake is a lot like a person, complex and full of the unexpected in every bite.”

  She strutted over to the buffet table that ran along the western wall, keeping the table between them. The dining room table took up the
center of the large room, but along the walls, tables had been set up. One included an array of photographs of Cree and Stephen and their families that sat beneath an oil painting of an Alaskan wilderness. The other table held silver food platters. Chloe went to the tray with the fruitcake slices and selected.

  “Try some?” She offered it to him.

  “Nah, I don’t really like it.” Besides, the tray of Christmas cookies held more variety and he’d been acquainted with their deliciousness.

  “Kevin, don’t you get tired of having the same old thing. All the time?” Chloe bit into the cake and chewed.

  For the briefest of moments, Kevin wondered if they were still talking about fruitcake. Sure, he’d never tried it, but from all accounts, eating fruitcake was akin to eating a brick, thick and heavy. But watching Chloe nibble on a slice, altered his perception—considerably.

  “When you asked me out yesterday, did you know you were coming here?” Chloe sipped her champagne. She seemed more relaxed here and more open.

  More seductive.

  “I did,” Kevin confessed, deciding to just be open, too. If she could not slap him and run screaming from the house, then he could try not to run game on her. Besides, that routine hadn’t worked, and to his chagrin, he didn’t want to try. Maybe it was the warmth of the holidays, the crackle of the fireplace, Mariah Carey belting out All I Want for Christmas, but he didn’t want anything more than Chloe Reese.

  “I’ve been coming to Stephen’s Christmas Eve dinners when it was just me, him, and a few friends at the Chinese place on Main Street in Kernersville.”

  “This is my first time.”

  “I know.”

  “Oh?” Chloe frowned. “Excuse me.”

  “I didn’t mean it like that. Come on. I’ve been coming here for years, and I would’ve remembered you.”

  “I see. So, you would’ve skipped all this had I agreed to dinner?” Chloe gestured to the table and thumbed back to the kitchen. “Momma Caruthers’ meatloaf is to die for.”

  Kevin closed the distance between them as if he were cold, and she was the only source of heat and warmth. It hurt him to stare at her for too long. Like a lightbulb with too much wattage, Chloe purely glowed. How could she possibly be single? Smart. Brilliant, even.