“I guess you’re going to snap at me now, huh?” I say. “Demand to know why I’m here?”
I throw that out there like a shield, as if the question wouldn’t be perfectly valid.
He flinches, hurt flickering across his face as if I stabbed him with my words.
“No, Celine,” he says gruffly.
What’s that I spy? A spark of humanity?
There it is. A crack in the armor, small but real.
“I brought leftovers,” I tell him. “Turkey, stuffing, all the trimmings. Would you like some?”
Indecision flickers across his face. I almost snap at him. If he doesn’t want me to keep coming by, then fine. But I also want to help him, to make him see Christmas doesn’t have to be depressing.
It can be andshouldbe a time of joy.
A smile, rare and handsome, comes over his face. “I’d love some.”
CHAPTER 5
DAMIAN
Every time I let her in here, it’s a mistake. Yet I can’t seem to stop.
I led her into the dining room, adrenaline still buzzing through my body. It’s strange. How many fights have I had? How many life-or-death experiences?
Usually, I’m cold. Ice. Don’t give a fuck. I bury it all and don’t allow myself to be affected by it. It’s always easier that way. But then, when I thought that prick was going to hurt Celine, something snapped like a cord in me.
I felt. Which is a problem. Feelings get men killed.
“I’ll warm it up and fetch us some plates,” I say.
She smiles shakily, like she’s afraid of me. Like I showed too much of the Beast out there, and she doesn’t know if I’m going to flash my teeth again.
“Thanks,” she murmurs.
Standing in my dining room, my safe house. Tight blue jeans with stylish tears in them. They make me want to hook myfingers into the holes and rip them even more, revealing inch after inch of creamy, thick thigh.
Touch. Bite. Taste.
My cock jerks as I walk back through the house. My heart pounds heavily.
After warming the food up, I carry two plates, but Celine isn’t in the dining room. I set the plates down. Paranoia grips me. Where is she? Is she snooping? Is she here with an ulterior motive?
Hell, that’s not paranoia. That’s caution.
I find her standing at the door to the living room, her arms wrapped across her middle. A few strands have escaped from the bun that held her hair. Wild and beautiful, no denying it.
She turns, her eyes glistening. “You took the decorations down.”
Fuck.
Her expression hits me hard, like a punch to the gut.
“I did,” I murmur.
“But… why?” she says, her voice cracking. “That took effort, you know. Those decorations didn’t just magically appear.”
