Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25822 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 129(@200wpm)___ 103(@250wpm)___ 86(@300wpm)
“What can I get you?” the tall, blonde bartender asks as I turn away from the TV and settle onto a wooden stool.
“Vodka and cranberry,” I order my forever drink of choice, with no need to even think about it.
“Just what I pegged you for,” he says with a wink.
He’s cute, and he’s totally flirting with me, but I’m not sure what that means. If I were to be a drink, I’d much rather be something exciting like sex on the beach. His blue eyes flit back to me as he pours my alcohol. Well now I want to change my drink to something less mainstream, but before I can, he brings it over.
“What’s your cabin number?”
I’m used to forward men, but I didn’t even get to taste the drink before he’s trying to get in my panties.
“Oh, well, um,” I stammer, glancing at his name tag, “Brian, I appreciate the offer, but I’m not looking for anything besides the drink.”
“I think he wants to charge your cabin for the drink,” a deep voice interjects.
“You can pay cash if you don’t want me charging the room,” Brian clarifies.
“No, it’s fine.” My cheeks redden. “Cabin twelve.” I turn away to hide my embarrassment, and my eyes collide with the mall stranger from a few hours earlier.
Recognition crosses his features, and he half-smiles. “The jaded elf?” he asks with a raised brow.
“Just an off day,” I tell him. “Normally, I love Christmas.”
“I don’t.” He takes a seat beside me.
“Didn’t get that official Red Ryder, carbine action, two-hundred shot range model air rifle?”
“Impressive, but no.”
“Then why do you hate it?”
He signals Brian for a drink, then looks over at me with a grin. “Because I just recently found out Santa isn’t real.”
I smile. “Sorry to spoil it for you.”
“Take this song for instance.” I listen as “Jingle Bells” lightly plays from the speakers. “Have you ever ridden in a one-horse open sleigh?”
“No,” I answer, distracted by the way his jean clad knee brushes my leg when he turns to face me.
“I have. It wasn’t fun.”
“Maybe you were with the wrong person,” I say, sounding a lot like I’m flirting.
His tongue peeks out to caress the corner of his mouth before he says, “I’m sure I was.”
“What about giving gifts? And getting gifts? And spending time with family?”
“No, no, and hell no. I try to avoid my family as much as possible.”
I frown a little. “Not even Christmas movies? It’s a Wonderful Life? Christmas Story?
“No.” A cute dimple appears when he smiles. “Especially, not Christmas movies.”
“Elf?”
He cringes. “Sounds horrible. Die Hard is a good one.”
Don’t get me wrong I’m all for Bruce Willis, but… “Die Hard is not a Christmas movie.”
“Is too.”
“Is not,” I challenge with a hard stare. His warm chocolate eyes hold mine. The way they study me over the rim of his drink causes a zing in places that hasn’t felt a zing in a very long time. “I guess you hate eggnog as well?”
He holds up his drink. “I’d rather have this instead. Bourbon is better than whatever they put in eggnog.”
“Well, you can put bourbon in it,” I mumble under my breath.
Another Christmas song, “Blue Christmas” by Elvis, serenades the bar, and I chuckle a little.
“What?” he asks.
“This song is kind of perfect for you.”
“I never said I was sad, just not a fan of Christmas.”
I take another sip of my drink. “Is there anything you like about it?”
“Mistletoe.” His eyes drop once more to my mouth. “Let me ask you this, why do you like it so much?”
“Hm.” My mind overloads with all things holiday bliss. “It’s maybe just the spirit of it all.”
As if I’m an anomaly, he silently stares at me. Clearly my flirtdar is off tonight, because I’d swear his brown eyes are more than admiring my sweater; they’re removing it.
“Let me buy you another drink.” He motions Brian over. “Put her tab on me.”
I wave off his gesture. “No, really, you don’t have to do that.”
“I can’t let you drink alone. Just doesn’t seem right.”
“Well, I sure hate drinking alone.” My voice just dropped like fifty octaves.
“Yeah, me too.” His voice is just as low.
I’ve never done this before. I don’t even know his name. I’m about to introduce myself, but change my mind, because, honestly, I kind of like we’re anonymous. It’s exciting. Don’t tell Santa, but the naughty list might be the place to be this year.
As soon as I finish my drink, Brian makes me another. And another. And suddenly, I’m feeling great, and this stranger is not only the sexiest man in the world, he’s the funniest. I’ve become obsessed with the way he talks, the perfect things he says. I find myself hanging on every word. I’m also becoming touchy-feely, because he’s just too magnetic, and that’s my signal to leave. If I stay any longer, I’ll be straddling him.