A Merrily Matched Christmas

by Virginia Nelson

  He wanted to throat punch Warren and deliver a knee to the balls. “If your neighbor is such a great guy, why the break up?”

  The joy slid from her face leaving an empty shell. “Some people are better off as friends.” She slung a backpack over her shoulder, shrugged on her coat, and extended the handle on her suitcase. “Let’s go beat the snow.”

  He couldn’t stop seeking the elusive electric connection with her, but if Mr. Perfect Match couldn’t make a relationship work with Zara, Aaron didn’t stand a chance. He’d need to keep his mind on work, so he wouldn’t do or say something he’d regret. In the meantime, he’d be taking plenty of cold showers.

  Chapter 3

  The ride to Wisconsin was a total nail biter. Snow reduced visibility, and the roads were a smooth sheet of ice. If Zara didn't know better, she'd wonder if the road maintenance crews used Zambonis to clear the expressway instead of plows. In order to keep her mind off of the treacherous journey, she’d peppered Aaron with questions.

  "What's your star sign?" She swallowed a sip of coffee. "I'm a Gemini.”

  "Virgo.” He scowled. “Astrology is bunk. Obviously, I'm not a virgin and you're not a twin.”

  "Obviously." Sweet heaven, could they have any conversation that didn't send her mind to a deliciously naughty place?

  She did a quick internet search on her phone, which confirmed that Virgos and Geminis were incompatible. Per the astrology website, Geminis were dreamers and Virgos, with their focus on reality, were dream crushers. They were complete opposites. So what, if she wanted to rip his clothes off? The guy always ended up saying something to kill the mood. But she had plenty of ideas on how to keep his mouth busy.

  Every time she took a sip of coffee or a nibble of muffin, his lips tightened and he gripped the steering wheel hard.

  She sneezed, spewing muffin crumbs, and he gritted his teeth.

  Thinking of how his budget shrinking ways jeopardized her Wondrous Worlds game and her job, she chowed down on a second muffin and brushed the crumbs from her lap onto the floor of the Audi.

  He hit the brakes, nearly sending them into a spin, and she resolved to stop teasing him until they arrived at their destination safely.

  "Which video games are your favorites?" she asked. Games seemed a safe enough topic.

  "I never got into video games. Sudoku puzzles are more my speed."

  She couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Of all the places you could have gotten a job, why choose Windy City Gaming?"

  "Cheryl’s brother and I were in the same fraternity. When she used her inheritance to start the company, he told me about the job." He fiddled with the button for the defroster. "What games do you like?"

  She doubted that he cared much about her video game obsession, but she appreciated his effort at keeping the conversation going. "Wondrous Worlds. It's such a great fantasy game even though the graphics suck. This summer at Comicon, I dressed as Yolanda the fearless warrior mage."

  "Of course, you did." The corners of his lips turned up in the barest hint of a smile. “Nice way to generate buzz for the game.”

  “My costume is wicked cool. Didn’t matter that no one was familiar with the character yet. Lots of people wanted to get their picture taken with me. Do you think I can convince Cheryl to keep Wondrous Worlds on the lineup?”

  “I’m sure your pitch will blow her away.”

  “If she decides to drop it, will you put in a good word for me with the company who’s buying the rejected games?”

  “Of course, but I’ll do my best to help keep you and the game on board.”

  “That’s a relief, thanks.” For the first time since the meeting with Cheryl, Zara let herself relax.

  They exited the expressway and the scenery slowly changed from urban to rural with fewer cars braving the roads.

  By the time they reached the resort, Zara had become stir crazy. She dreaded being stuck in the middle of nowhere with the uptight director, but with her game and job on the line, she had little choice.

  After they parked, Aaron retrieved the luggage from the trunk.

  Their cabin, while dollhouse adorable, appeared to be entirely too small to comfortably contain more than two adults.

  “How many of us will be sleeping in there?” she asked.

  “Just the three of us. A few more people came down with the flu, so Cheryl switched us to a smaller venue to reduce costs.”

  “The company retreat consists of only you, me and Cheryl?” Talk about awkward.

  “There were supposed to be eight of us until people started canceling.”

  “I had no idea there was a flu epidemic.”

  “While some people are genuinely sick, I suspect others couldn’t bear to leave their families at Christmas.”

  A figure in a parka bounded out of the structure. “Welcome.” A striped scarf muffled Cheryl’s voice and obscured her facial features.

  They followed her inside the tiny cabin.

  The downstairs consisted of a kitchenette with a table and two chairs on one side and a couch on the other. A fireplace provided a warm glow. Ladders led to lofts on either side. A sprig of plastic mistletoe hung from one of the lofts and unadorned silver Christmas tree sat propped in a corner.

  Cheryl unwrapped the scarf and removed her parka. Her skin had the telltale orange tint of self-tanner abuse.

  Aaron leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Another causality of pumpkin spice season.”

  She covered her giggles with a feigned coughing fit.

  Maybe the director had a sense of humor buried deep under his uptight exterior.

  Cheryl handed her a tissue. "If you’re coming down with the flu, maybe you should head home. Aaron and I can sort things out.”

  “I’m not sick. Once I heard the flu was going around, I started taking tons of zinc and vitamin C.” Zara thrust the foil package toward Cheryl. “I made these this morning. They’re pumpkin walnut.”

  “My favorite.” Cheryl dug out a muffin and took a bite.

  Images of vertically challenged orange men singing and dancing filled Zara’s mind. If Cheryl channeled an Oompa Loompa, then Aaron was Willy Wonka, full of candy goodness. Where the hell did that thought come from? Must be from excessive horniness. Since ending her friends-with-benefits relationship with Warren, she hadn’t gotten laid. Her New Year’s resolution was to get back out into the dating scene even if it meant giving online dating a go.

  Aaron shrugged out of his coat and brushed snowflakes from his thick, dark hair. “That was one hell of a ride. I’m sure we’d both like the opportunity to freshen up before plunging into work.”

  “There are only two bedrooms.” Cheryl gestured to the lofts.

  “I’m good on the couch,” Aaron said.

  “The sofa doesn’t pull out into a bed.” Cheryl pouted. “Anyway, you’re too tall to fit comfortably. Maybe we should double up.”

  “I’ll manage,” Aaron said.

  Cheryl pulled him aside for a private conversation. She rubbed at the coffee stain on his shirt, letting her hand rest on his chest until he brushed it away.

  Zara escaped to the bathroom. After giving herself a pep talk in the mirror, she climbed the ladder to the loft. At the sight of Aaron sitting at the edge of the bed, her hormones went into a frenzy. A compulsion to push him down on the sky blue comforter and climb on top of him overcame her.

  “Having you pitch your project may not be the best idea. I can make a case for keeping Wondrous Worlds in development.”

  Heat rushed to her face. “Do you expect me to botch the pitch?”

  “Not at all. Spending the holidays with your family would be more fun than being stuck in a cabin watching projects get slaughtered.”

  The guy was full of mixed messages. If he didn't want her to stay, why make a case for her to attend the retreat and haul her suitcase to the loft?

  She crossed her arms. “I’m not going to leave the fate of Wondrous Worlds to a Sox fan and an Oompa Loompa.”

>   He let out a bark of laughter, and the shock of it sent quivers down to her toes. “Orange was never Cheryl’s best color.”

  His rare display of mirth dissolved her anger and her brain traveled back into naked Aaron fantasy land. She bit her lip to keep from offering to share her bed. Not that she'd get any sleep with all that sexiness next to her.

  “Okay, we'll give this a shot,” he said.

  She nodded and bent to unzip her suitcase.

  He stood and headed toward the ladder. Before he reached the edge of the loft, he turned. “We need to join forces to make this as painless as possible. Whatever happens in this cabin, stays here."

  “Deal,” she said. “No pranks, I promise.”

  “When we get back to the office, I want my green sticky notes back.”

  She crossed her fingers behind her back. “Sure,” she lied. She'd replace his notes with orange ones. Take that Willy Wonka.

  After unpacking her suitcase, she joined Aaron in the living area.

  "Why is it so hot in here?" She yanked off her sweater, revealing her white t-shirt with its cartoon Yolanda graphic, as designed by the original artist. The one she had to fire when Aaron slashed the Wondrous Worlds budget.

  He nodded at the decal on her shirt. "Is that your Mage thingy?"

  "Yep, that’s Yolanda."

  "And this?" His fingers lightly brushed along the outlines of her tattoos.

  "Mario from Super Mario Brothers." Her nipples hardened.

  "And this?" The movement of his finger on the flesh of her inner arm raised goosebumps.

  "Zelda." Her voice sounded breathy.

  "This?"

  "Qbert."

  "These?" He traced up to her collarbone.

  "Space Invaders." Hot damn, she was going to spontaneously combust.

  Cheryl stepped out of the bathroom. "Did marketing authorize the use of the image?" Her voice was a bucket of cold water.

  They moved apart.

  “I didn’t think to ask for approval,” Zara said “This is the only shirt I had made. It’s for personal use only,”

  Cheryl pursed her lips.

  Even though she was sweating, Zara slipped her sweater back over her head. What a terrible start. In addition to losing her game and her job, she worried that Cheryl would slap Zara with a lawsuit for her unauthorized use of the Yolanda image.

  Chapter 4

  Aaron squashed the urge to comfort Zara. He should never have suggested that she come along. A relationship with a coworker was out of the question, but he couldn’t shake the desire to touch her, hold her, kiss her.

  The second Zara had slipped into the bathroom, Cheryl suggested he sleep in her loft. When they’d dated, Cheryl had been jealous of every women with whom Aaron interacted. If she planned to use the trip as a way to reconcile, he needed to keep his feelings for Zara wrapped up tighter than a Christmas gift.

  “Let’s start with a team building activity.” Cheryl dumped the contents of a tote bag onto the table. Squares of paper, tape, markers, colored pencils, and other art supplies thudded onto the wooden surface. “My family had a tradition of hanging handmade ornaments. Let’s each make an ornament for the Christmas tree.”

  Her cellphone rang, and she went up to her loft to take the call.

  While Zara worked on an abstract creation, Aaron drew her. Sketching had always been his escape. Each stroke brought more of the stunning woman to life from her long dark hair and her full lips, to her expressive eyes. For a festive touch, he drew holly around the border.

  Once he put the finishing touches on the shading, he drew her cat with a Santa hat on the creature’s head.

  “You’ve been holding out on me.” She examined his work. “That’s me and Licorice. I had no idea you were such a talented artist.”

  “I wouldn’t call myself an artist.” He added a border of twisty black licorice strands.

  While sketching was his passion, he’d pursued a more practical career. One that ensured he’d never drown in a sea of debt like his parents. He’d helped them pay off their bills, but his money failed to patch the rift that had become a chasm between his parents. Their bitter divorce proved that the world conspired to kill love.

  “You are a hundred times better than that hack we hired for Wondrous Worlds.” Her gaze darted between the two drawings. “If you did the art for the game, it would sell like gangbusters.”

  “The game graphics aren’t that bad.”

  She shook her head. “Not bad, huh? We’d be lucky to get a three controller rating from Good News Gaming. The head of marketing commented that the graphics are ‘kindergartener-grade.’ Basically, because of your budget cuts, the best we could afford was the equivalent of a five-year old with a box of crayons. The thing that irks me the most is that the game has the potential to be a top pick.”

  “I’m sorry.” Unable to meet her gaze, he kept sketching. He had done his best to fend off the need for restructuring and layoffs at the expense of her game.

  “I thought you didn’t like the cat kind?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  She placed her hand on his forearm and he lost himself for a moment in the moss green of her eyes. “Licorice. If you don’t like cats, why are you drawing mine?”

  “I guess the little guy is growing on me,” he said.

  Aaron wanted to hang the portrait of Zara from the top branch of the Christmas tree. Her image would burn brighter than any star or angel could, but he didn’t want to set Cheryl off. He shoved the drawing under Zara’s folder and went to work on a picture of Tiny.

  Cheryl returned and started working on her own ornament.

  “When do you want me to do the pitches?” Zara reached for her folder and the portrait fluttered to the table.

  Cheryl examined the drawing. “Maybe tomorrow. I may already have all the information I need to make my decision.”

  Aaron’s heart raced. He needed to convince Cheryl both Zara’s project and the woman herself were assets to the company.

  After a couple of awkward meals and more teambuilding crap, Aaron tried to origami his six-foot frame into a comfortable position on the couch to no avail. He was about to give up and stretch out on the floor, when he heard a cry from Zara’s loft.

  Overcome with the need to check on her, he crept up the ladder.

  She thrashed in her sleep with the blankets twisted around her legs. Her t-shirt had ridden up exposing the silky skin of her midriff.

  He leaned over and patted her arm. “It’s only a nightmare. You’ll be okay.”

  Her eyes snapped open. “Aaron?”

  “Sorry to burst in. I heard a noise and got worried.” Showing up in her bedroom in the middle of the night was all kinds of wrong. He laced his fingers together behind his back. “Were you dreaming of Oompa Loompas or pumpkin spice indulgence gone wrong?”

  She shook her head. “I dreamt that Licorice got out of the apartment. I ran and ran around the city, but I couldn’t find him anywhere.”

  “Why don’t you ask your neighbor to check on him?” It killed him to make the suggestion, but he wanted to alleviate her worry.

  “Great idea.” She grabbed her cellphone from the nightstand and started typing. “Will you wait until I confirm he’s safe?”

  “Of course. Would you like a glass of water? There’s leftover eggnog, or I could make you a hot drink if you prefer.” Hell, he’d drive around until he found an open coffee shop if that could erase the fear from her face.

  “No, thanks.” She scooted over and patted the bed next to her. “You’d better get comfortable. If Warren’s working, it could take a while.”

  He laid next to her, and his heart did a rat-a-tat-tat in his chest. Never had he allowed himself to imagine being in bed with her.

  “Rationally, I know it’s just a stupid dream, but Licorice means the world to me.” Her lower lip quivered.

  “You’ve convinced me of the importance of having a pet. After the holidays, I’m going to visi
t the shelters and pick out a dog or cat.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “You’re going to get a cat?”

  “Or a dog. I’ll keep an open mind.”

  “You never cease to amaze me.” Her phone buzzed. “Thank goodness, Warren says that Licorice is curled up on one of the pillows on my bed. Thank you.” She threw her arms around him.

  Her touch and sweet scent set him on fire.

  He gritted his teeth. The best he could hope for was to move from the shit list into the friend zone.

  She leaned back with her arms clasped loosely around his shoulders. Those green cat eyes of hers seemed to peer into his soul and expose all the pain he kept locked up inside. Her light illuminated his darkness.

  Something shattered inside him.

  Damn the consequences. He needed to kiss her. To release the tension that came from being teased by her pranks and by their emotional connection.

  He moved closer, pausing inches from her lips.

  Her breath grew ragged, but she didn’t so much as twitch.

  Their lips met in the softest caress. He wasn’t sure if he’d closed the gap, or if she had. And he didn’t care. All that mattered was the moment.

  Their kiss evolved, the sweetness transforming into molten desire.

  His hands tangled into her long hair, while she reached beneath his shirt to stroke the curves of his back. His dick went rock hard.

  She pulled away, and he braced himself for rejection.

  “I want you.” She shimmied out of her baggy pajama pants exposing the Cubs logo on her panties.

  He couldn’t help but laugh. “You adore that damned baseball team.”

  “I only wear my Cubs undies when I’m pissed at you.”

  “Are you mad at me right now?”

  “I will be if you don’t make love to me.” She got up and rooted around in her suitcase.

  He admired the way the moonlight seemed to cradle her curves. His conscience nagged at him, reminding him of the futility of attempting a relationship with someone so different. The awkwardness of working with an ex-lover. The fact he was part of the senior management team. But he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t finish what they’d started. Damage control could wait for the morning.