Her confidence falters, her gaze darting over my shoulder to the men now pretending to look everywhere but at the two of us. They’re all leaning in, though, trying to hear what we’re saying. Nosy bastards.
“How was I supposed to know that?” she demands after a moment, scowling up at me. “It’s not like my car asked me where it should break down!”
“Jesus Christ. Your car broke down?”
“Didn’t I just say that?” She’s wound up now, spinning like a top. Fuck, she’s beautiful when she’s pissed. “And for the record, I wouldn’t be dressed like this if people were honest in job listings. But no, they can’t just say they want a hooker elf to film dirty movies for creeps. Instead, they make it sound like you’re signing on to play a harmless little elf while Santa asks a bunch of kids what they want for Christmas and then gives them candy canes. And then you show up, and bam! It’s a bait and switch, and you’re the bait.”
I gape at her for a moment, trying to process everything she just said, and then I curse. “Someone tricked you into being in a movie, pretty baby?”
“Yes. I mean, no. They tried. But I walked out, and then my car broke down, and now I’m here.” She glares at me. “So, please spare me your annoying lecture and just let me use a phone so I can call someone to take me home, so I can burn this outfit and drink enough cheap wine to forget this day even happened.”
I hesitate for a second, running through options. I could let her use my phone to call for help. I could escort her to the bar and ask Lex to let her use the phone back there. Neither option appeals to me.
“Come on,” I say, making a split-second decision that may bite me in the ass later, “I’ll take you home.”
She blinks up at me like I’ve lost my mind. “I’m not getting into a car with you. I don’t even know you.”
“Flint Stockton,” I rumble, nodding at Tanner at the bar. “You see the man at the bar?”
“Tanner Carrington?” she asks. Of course, she knows him. Everyone in town knows the Carringtons.
“Yeah, Tanner. I run his ranch.”
“Oh.” She purses her lips, considering.
“What’s your name, Sugar Plum?”
“Saoirse Murray.”
Jesus.She’s a goddamn teacher. I know this because Abel Jenner’s son, Trenton, is in her class. The kid talks about her all the time. According to him, she’s the “best teacher ever” because she spends part of every day reading to them, and she lets them do crafts on Fridays.
How the fuck did she end up answering an ad to play an elf?
“You’re a teacher.”
“Yes.” She lifts her chin again, like she’s just daring me to say something else about her outfit. I don’t, though. At this point, it’s the least of my concerns. The more pressing matter is getting her home, and then finding out who the fuck hired her so I can kill them. Slowly.
“My second-in-command, Abel Jenner’s boy, is in your class. Trenton.”
The moment I say his name, her face immediately softens. “You know Trenton?”
“I do. He likes to pretend he’s helping out on the ranch. Mostly, he just pushes hay into a big pile and then spends an hour jumping into it.”
She laughs softly, and my dick throbs in response to the low, throaty sound. “That sounds like him.”
“Let me take you home,” I murmur, my voice soft. “I’ll even send someone to take a look at your car, see if they can’t fix it, or at least haul it to a shop for you.”
She hesitates for a long moment.
“It’s almost Christmas. Consider this my last-ditch effort to get on the Nice List.”
That earns an indelicate snort. “I doubt you’ve ever been there, Flint Stockton.”
I grin in response because she’s not far off. I was a little shithead growing up. Most years, I earned a lump of coal. But my Ma always did her best to make sure I had more than that in my stocking.
“Fine,” Saoirse finally relents. “I’ll let you drive me.” She gives me a look dark enough to wither lesser men. “But if you try anything fishy, just know, I have a Taser, and I know how to use it.”
“If anyone ever tries anything fishy, you damn well better use it.”
