Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 36367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
“Thank you.” I take the cards from him and pocket them.
The front desk clerk gets to work on making our keycard.
I turn to face January, and she offers a shy and timid smile, like a baby bird peeking out from its nest. “We’re sharing a room?”
“Looks that way.” I’m already walking toward the elevators with her carry-on and mine over my shoulders. I wheel my large suitcase behind me, and January rushes after me with her own.
“Seriously?” Her eyes are as big as saucers, and her bottom lip juts out.
“Seriously.” I tap a finger on the elevator button. I wish this thing would hurry. I know everyone around the office thinks I’m a grump.
I sometimes think I’m a grump, but they don’t know what I know.
And they sure as hell don’t have to share a room with a bombshell.
The very bombshell who refuses to offer up the very bomb I know she’s keeping from me.
Chapter 3
January
* * *
Nicholas opens the door to our room and I step inside.
Cozy.
Very cozy.
Too cozy.
With one king-sized bed. There’s a small leather couch across from a TV, positioned above a roaring fire. A perfect metaphor for my life right now. My plan is bursting into flames around me.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Nicholas moves toward it and drops his bag on the plump cushions.
“You can’t be serious.” I remove my jacket, and my next words come out before I think them through. “We can share the bed.” I glance at the ginormous bed, covered in a plaid-patterned comforter, and think about Nicholas and I both sleeping there.
Will I be able to sleep so close to his masculine body?
I bet he snores.
Who am I kidding? A man as gorgeous as him doesn’t snore. Oh god. I hope I don’t snore.
Sure, I’ve had boyfriends in the past, but I asked none of them if I snore.
“That’s unnecessary,” Nicholas says, breaking me from my ridiculous thoughts.
It doesn’t matter if I snore or not, I won’t get much sleeping done. I’ll be too nervous to snore.
“We can put pillows down the middle. Like a barrier,” I proclaim, grabbing a few fluffy pillows off the bed and centering them down the middle of the mattress.
“This isn’t the second grade. I’m going to take a quick shower. Call down and make a reservation at the restaurant, please.”
“It wasn’t that busy when we passed it in the lobby,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow. “January, just make the reservation.” He heads into the bathroom, and I grab my phone.
“February?” I say into the phone when my sister answers on the first ring.
“Mom is freaking out. Where are you?”
I inwardly groan. “I just got to the resort. Listen, Feb, I need to tell you something.”
“If you’re going to bail early because you have to get home to run errands for your crap boss, Mom will never forgive you.”
I glance over my shoulder to make sure Nicholas is still in the shower. “No, it’s actually much worse.”
“What is it?” I can picture February’s face right now. She’s probably leaning into the phone with her blue eyes, a shade darker than mine, wide as saucers. “My boss is here.”
“What?” my sister shrieks and I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “Why?”
“It’s a long story.” The water to the shower shuts off. “Look, I have to go. I’ll call you later.” I quickly hang up and look around the room for the phone number to the restaurant downstairs. “Hi,” I say when they answer the phone. “I need to make a reservation for two in about fifteen minutes from now.”
“Ok, sure.”
I glance at the phone, noticing it’s almost eight at night. “Two people, last name L-U-G-E,” I spell out his name.
“Got it. See you soon.”
I check the time once more, even though I know exactly what time it is. My mother’s usually in bed before nine p.m. So, I’m sure I won’t run into any of my family.
I still have no idea how I’m going to handle this week, and I don’t have time to dwell on it, because Nicholas steps out of the bathroom, his still damp hair sucking every productive thought right out of my head.
His eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I imagine him stalking across the room and tossing me on the bed. Rubbing that thick beard all over my body. Kissing me more senseless than I already am for having this fantasy.
The pleasing scent of woodsy soap follows him into the room, and I stand like a statue staring at him. He’s dressed in a gray sweater with dark slacks, casual but professional. Sexy but still a Scrooge, because he barks out, “Reservation?”
“All set.” I grab my purse, pocket my phone, and we head out the door.
The walk to the restaurant is a quiet one. In the elevator, I silently plead to the Christmas gods that none of my family happens upon us on our trek to the lobby.