But this wasn’t just any woman. This was Leah. Shit, getting this close to her…pretending to be her man? That was akin to getting too close to the sun. Don’t do it. But as desperate hope bloomed on her face, he couldn’t bring himself to retreat. She needed him, and damn if he didn’t like the feeling.
As understanding dawned, she squealed with joy and leapt to her feet. He thought she was going to come at him, so he braced for impact. But then she held back, chewing on her luscious bottom lip for a long moment before her shoulders slumped. “I am so tempted, Mick. Really I am. But I can’t ask that of you. It’s smack in the middle of the holiday season. They’ll be here for the whole week. Surely you have better things to do than help me with this crazy scheme. Like spend time with your son.”
“You didn’t ask. I offered. And to be honest, I don’t have anything pressing until after New Year’s Day. I had Luke for Thanksgiving, so Sheila gets him until the first except for an afternoon shopping trip tomorrow for some last minute gifts. My week is wide open. Plus, I kind of like the idea of you owing me one.” He smiled inwardly, mentally thumbing through the list of things he could ask of her in return. There were plenty of potentials, but the one he really wanted? Maybe he’d demand she let him kiss that spot on her neck he couldn’t stop thinking about…
“I’m not sure about that,” she said. “If I know you, you’ll have me doing all your broker duties next month. Or worse. Your open houses.”
The speculative way she eyed him got his blood pumping. He’d seen that look before. The one that said, “Hmm…this could be fun.” Damn, it was the last time he’d seen that look from her that had been a turning point for him. Innocent enough? Yes, so maybe if he hadn’t agreed to be paired with her in that three-legged race at the office Memorial Day picnic, he wouldn’t be stalking her like a starved lion looking for prey these days.
It had been another one of her “I need your help” moments when she wanted to beat Joe Mallack and win the stupid Magic 8 Ball prize. And when Mick had leaned forward for his “by-the-nose photo finish,” carrying her over the line for the win, he hadn’t expected her uninhibited reaction when he’d let her go. Because she’d jumped right back into his arms, wrapped herself around him for a hug, and kissed his neck. Through the heat, sweat and pulse pounding beneath his skin, the touch of those soft lips against him had ignited a need so strong that he’d actually stumbled.
Kicker was? The bone-deep sexual pull toward her that day was only half of it. She’d barely gotten her hands wrapped around her trophy when Luke had taken a shine to it. Then she hadn’t hesitated. After their hard-won battle, she’d handed the 8 Ball over to his son before she’d plopped down in the grass and sat with him for a good hour swapping zany questions to ask the globe.
He couldn’t get the visual out of his head.
“So.” She continued to study him. “You’re going to help me, just like that?
“Of course.”
The bright sparkle in her eyes reminded him of that day. Only then, more than her eyes had lit up with genuine enjoyment of Luke’s goofy antics. Seeing her glow like that had really done it for him. Almost as much as seeing his little boy dive into her arms for a hug good-bye. Damn, he’d done everything in his power to try to forget it, but from that moment on, the distance he’d managed to maintain with her for the business’s sake had been steadily shrinking. Disappearing. Until he found himself here, right beside her, and it still wasn’t close enough for him. Helping her like this was a bad idea, but he could no more retract his offer than he could fly to the moon.
“Hmm. You’re sure about this?” she asked.
He nodded, and when she tentatively nodded back, he continued. “Friends help friends. It’s that simple.” And so damned complicated that he didn’t want to dwell on all the reasons he shouldn’t be getting involved in this mess.
“I swear you could sell steaks to a vegan.” More lip chewing, and then her face finally cleared. “I’ll do it. If you let me do something for you. Let me take over the Hutton property. Then we’ll be even stephen.”
This time it was his turn to draw back. Beverly AKA “Bunny” Hutton was a nightmare. The woman wouldn’t stick to the rules of vacating her premises for showings or open houses. She was impossible to please, and she also had a thing for younger men. She was like a miserable octopus, alternately sniping and groping at him every chance she got. He and Leah had rock-paper-scissored over her a few months back, and he’d lost. The fact that she was willing to take over for him showed just how desperate she was. He couldn’t take advantage of that.
He shook his head and opened his mouth to argue, but she held up a hand.
“I’m not letting you waste most of your holiday bailing me out if you get nothing in return. This would be a total lifesaver. My family will meet you, then, a few months from now, once they’re good and settled in Phoenix, I’ll find you in bed with another woman. No!”
She stabbed a finger at him. “Another man! Maybe that will also buy me some extra time before they start to press me about another relationship. It’s perfect. What do you say? Deal?” She held out her hand to him. “Please, Mick. Now that you planted the seed I can actually see the light at the end of the tunnel, but I won’t do it without you getting something in return. I won’t.”
He knew her too well to refuse. If this was the only way she’d accept his help, he’d do it. It wouldn’t be too much of a hardship for her. He doubted Bunny batted for both teams, so Leah would make it through unmolested.
That decided, he took her hand, resisting the temptation to run his thumb over the soft skin of her wrist, and they shook. “Deal. But I don’t know about the whole ‘other guy’ thing. When they see all the ladies throwing themselves at me like they do, they might not buy it,” he said with a long-suffering sigh.
She snort-laughed at that.
“Humor me.” He gave her hand a squeeze.
“Okay, okay, that part is totally negotiable. It’s a deal then. Mrs. Hutton is going to be bummed. From the second she laid eyes on you in those snug gym clothes, she couldn’t wait to sign with us.”
He wasn’t going to argue. The fact was, the older woman had been eye-screwing him at every meeting.
His continued silence gave him away, and Leah clapped her hands gleefully.
“I knew it! I totally got the vibe from her. Hey, who knows? If you had gotten her a good offer, maybe…” She trailed off and waggled her brows at him.
“She’s sixty, and even if she wasn’t, that’s not how I roll. She’s a blonde and I like…” His gaze was drawn to her hair. “Brunettes.” That declaration lay between them like a viper and the awkward moment swelled, threatening to burst. Finally she looked away, swiping some imaginary dust off her desk.
Before things got awkward again, he cleared his throat. “At any rate, she’s your problem now. We’re going to have to do some cramming here. Maybe tell Celia to hold our calls? It’s likely going to take a while to find out what you told them about Michael and for me to learn some of the basics about you.”
“That’s a bit of a concern. I did tell them Michael was a real estate agent, but they’re going to think it’s weird I didn’t mention he was my new business partner.”
“Well we don’t need to mention that part either, do we? They’re only here for the week of Christmas, so they’re not likely to find out.”
“Okay, so if they get on the subject of work, we’ll go with vague and just say you were at Malack & Bean with me. As for me and the basics, you already know everything.”
“Not really.” And now was the perfect time to do some recon. “I don’t know what the name of your hometown is, what you eat in the morning or what you sleep in.” The last sent a bolt of lust through him as he mentally scrolled through the possibilities. Leah had a curvy, lush body and knew exactly how to dress it. Even during the day, she made sure her taut legs were shown to their best advantage in sexy pumps, her slim waist and full hips were emphasized by f
itted pencil skirts that molded to the curve of her ass and made him sweat every time she bent over. Much like the sweat that built as he imagined what she’d wear to bed. Maybe nothing. That got his adrenaline pumping. It also got him thinking about how empty his big bed was at night.
Maybe it had been long enough. Maybe it was time to open up again.
That thought landed like a jab to the gut because, when the time did come to explore his options in the opposite sex department, Leah wasn’t on the short list. She wasn’t on the long list. She wasn’t on any list but his X-mas gift list. He wasn’t about to risk a flourishing business and a solid friendship on a maybe and he certainly wasn’t going to risk subjecting Luke to another of his failed relationships.
He flexed his jaw and pressed on, determined to be a friend—the friend she needed him to be. “If we keep things simple, it’s bound to work.” Why did he say that out loud? He could almost hear the gods laughing. Just stick to the plan and remember this is all pretend. No covert glances down her shirt, and no staring at her ass when she has her back to you.
Those thoughts brought him up short. Didn’t playing her fiancé sort of make the male ogling something to be expected? Along with touching?
The gods’ laughter got louder.
Fuck…Maybe she’d back out. There was always the chance—
She slapped her hands on the desk and pursed her lips. “Okay, let’s do it. Give me until ten o’clock. I’ve got some loose ends to tie up on the Benson estate. Then I’ll start jotting down some of the things I told my parents about you.”
It was the way she said this last that got him asking, “Things about me?”
She knocked over the holder and all her pens scattered on the desk. “Well, no…”
He waited for her to continue because he was sure she was hedging. “Leah?”
“Yeah?”
He quirked a brow and she blushed. “Oh all right. Not that it was intentional, mind you, but…”
All his worry over the situation vanished as he crossed his arms over his chest and tried not to smile. “But?”
“I kind of described a guy like you.” She shrugged. “Must have been a subliminal thingy.”
Her admission made him feel way better than it should have, but he managed a non-committal “hmm.”
“Yeah, as it turns out you’re a pretty good fit all around. I told them tall, with dark hair. Nice face. Funny.” She pointed right at him. “But don’t be too funny. We don’t want them falling in love with you.” She was so serious that the smile he’d been holding back tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Oh, and Cassandra asked me if you were hung. I said yes, of course.”
“Good.” He inclined his head and cleared his throat to cover the surge of male satisfaction at that declaration. So stupid, considering she had no idea if that was true or not, but he didn’t care. He’d take it. “Still dead on accurate, then. Seems like I’m your dream guy.” He started to laugh, but her startled expression stopped him cold. The air between them crackled while he held his breath. Five seconds. Ten…
“Correction. You’re their dream man.” She mumbled about how she was much pickier than they were when it came to men, but he barely noticed.
Because he’d stumbled onto something both eye-opening and terrifying. Leah wanted him. Today. Now. Despite his timeline and the shit about remaining parked in the friend zone for the sake of the partnership. She wanted him. Like actually wanted him. And from the expression on her face and the way she deflected, she didn’t want him to know it either.
But now he did…and it changed everything.
Chapter Two
Leah glanced at her watch and winced. Twenty minutes before the charade began. There was no way she was going to pull this off. She picked up her second serving of wine and gulped down half the glass. Watch. This would be the only time the guy was late in his li—
The doorbell rang, and she giggled. Giggled? She put her glass down and pushed it away in disgust. She’d intended to have one to take the edge off her nerves but had been a little overzealous with her pour. Now she was tipsy. Great. And here Mick was, being all dependable as usual. If he made a commitment, he’d keep it. Well, she could do the same thing. She’d keep on the straight and narrow despite her gait being a little unsteady at the moment.
More determined than ever to keep things casual, she swung the door wide and sang, “You can ring my b-e-l-l ell-ell. Ring my bell.”
His expression was dead serious. “I just did.”
She snorted and reached up to pat his cheek lightly, only it landed a little heavier, more like a slap. “Exactly.”
“Leah, have you been drinking?”
Huffing out a huge breath and nearly going cross-eyed to watch it mist in the frosty air, she answered, “Maybe. Point is if your fiancée asks you to ring her bell, I doubt she’s talking about her doorbell. Capiche? No need to be so formal, Mmmick. Let yourself in next time. We’re engaged.”
“I don’t have a key.”
Was he fighting a grin? She squinted at him. “We’ll have to remedy that, then.” Stepping aside, she let him in but not before she checked him out. His tan, cashmere sport coat was tailored to within an inch of its life and clung to his broad shoulders in a way that had her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. The scent of crisp spice and warm male mingled with the flowers he held, assailing her senses as he passed.
“And you’re right on time,” she said glancing at the fistful of wildflowers. They looked like a stunning collection of brightly colored gemstones. Exactly her taste. When they’d shared information, had she told him she loved wildflowers? She didn’t think so.
“I was shooting for early, but on a whim I stopped off for these.”
He presented the riotous bouquet, and she bent to inhale deeply. God, they smelled good. Better than good, though not as great as him. “They’re amazing. Thanks.” She felt bad about almost snatching them out of his hand, but she needed some space. A chance to breathe. She headed into the kitchen with him hot on her heels and crossed her fingers that he wouldn’t notice her weaving. After she rummaged through the cabinet for a vase, she stood at the sink, filling it with water.
“So, now you have me thinking.” He leaned against the counter next to her. “You were right about being too formal. If we’re going to be around your parents for the next few days, we should probably practice being a little more…affectionate, don’t you think?”
The vase slipped from her hands and landed in the sink with a crash. Luckily, the glass was thick, and it didn’t shatter. “More affectionate?” She eyed him. “You do know I was teasing about ringing my bell, right? I kind of thought if my family were here they’d think it was odd that you didn’t just walk in, you know?”
He gave her a curt salute. “Got it. I’ll make sure to walk in next time if the door is open. And I knew you were kidding around, but it would be strange if we never touched, don’t you think?”
She let out a breath and nodded. Better to get used to his hands on her a little rather than jumping out of her skin every time, even if it meant treading on treacherous ground. “Practicing is a good idea if we’re going to pull this off. We’ll start by holding hands in the car on the way to the restaurant.”
His eyes darkened, and a noticeable tension rose between them. She didn’t want to examine that too closely, so she saw to arranging the flowers. When she was done, she centered them on the kitchen table and then spun around. “Okay, what? You’re freaking me out. Quit staring.”
He looked slightly amused and crossed his arms. “Holding hands? That’s how we’re going to practice being more affectionate?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing if you’re living in Mayberry with Aunt Bee.” He let his arms drop to his sides and came forward. “I was thinking something more along these lines.”
One minute she was looking up at him, and the next she was nose to cashmere in his arms. “It’s the little things that matte
r,” he whispered as he hugged her. Not hard or fast. The embrace was slow and soft. Purposeful as he rested his chin on her head and held her there, letting his warmth seep into her bones. “A simple hug once in a while. Maybe a caress on the cheek. Doesn’t have to be as overt as a kiss, but we should try out a few different kinds of those, too.”
Little things? There was nothing little about the emotions he stirred in her. And as for practicing different types of kisses? She drew in a deep breath and pushed away. “One kind is all we need, I’m thinking.”
“But, what kind?”
That was a no-brainer. “The chaste, ‘I’m in front of my fiancée’s family’ kind.”
“I’m not sure I know that one. Show me.”
For a second, she thought she caught sight of a challenging gleam in his eye, but before she could examine it too closely, it was gone. And still, it left her wanting to take him up on his suggestion. Maybe it was the alcohol. Gee, she was getting some pretty good mileage out of that glass and a half of Chablis. “Okay.”
She placed her palms on his chest, ignoring the thrill that zipped through her when she felt the hard ripples beneath her fingers and rolled up on tiptoes. Keeping her eyes open, she held his gaze going all the way in, until her tightly puckered lips touched his. One fast peck and she was done. “There. Like that.” She would have stepped back but he grabbed her.
“Like this?” He drew her against him, and the flash of all-male heat radiating off him sapped her will. This wasn’t right—she shivered—so why did it feel so good? You need to focus. This was Nice Guy Mick. Dad Mick. I Don’t Fool Around With Women Unless I Care for Them Mick. Any moment now the usual teasing would commence, and he’d crack one or two jokes to lighten the mood. Yeah, despite her attraction to him, there was no need to prepare herself. It was just a little old ki—
Kiss Me for Christmas Page 2