“Excuse me?”
“I said, that’s too bad.”
“Uh huh.” He and I both know what he said.
His gaze is heated and full of pure wickedness and has every intent of dismantling me. Why is it working so well?
My cheeks heat with embarrassment, and I suddenly feel awkwardly out of place, so I turn away from him, ready to busy myself with baking.
His voice carries across the room, the indulgent husk hitting my ears like he’s whispering against them. “Did it hit you in all the right places?”
A sheet pan clatters to the floor, making me jump and turn nervously to face him. “Did what hit me in all the right places?”
He gets up from the table, strutting across the room with a swagger that wasn’t there when he first came in. He only stops when he’s a few feet away from me, the heat of my body tickling his icy exterior like foreplay.
“The shower,” he whispers, that husk still lingering and making me all giddy. A single hand goes onto the counter beside me, boxing me in, those blue eyes twinkling with playful desire. “Did it hit you hard and massage all those kinks and aches?”
Oh, it soothed an ache alright, just not the one he’s referring to.
“Krampus…”
“Call me Rich.” His breath hits me like a tidal wave; the faint scent of peppermint hits my nose and lingers. I love the smell of peppermint in the morning.
Gulping, I take a step back, only to meet the cold surface of my countertop.
“You’re awfully close right now.”
“Does it bother you?”
My head shakes, just as one of his hands meets the skin on my arm, gently traveling the naked space like he owns it.
“This is a very pretty dress.”
Another gulp has me in a panic. He’s so close he can kiss me, and sweet mother of molasses do I want it to happen.
“Mindy, I—”
Before he can say another word, there’s a long bang on the door, one that has us both jumping apart.
Mosely and that man I met when I first got here are standing at the door, looking pissed off and angry.
“I— I— better get that.”
He grips my hand, halting me from taking a step. “Don’t open the door.”
“I have to, Rich; he’s my landlord.”
“He’s not who you think he is.”
His words only stall me for a second, before more obnoxious knocking draws me away. The whole time, Krampus is on edge, staring at the door like he’s ready for a fight.
But I can’t not open the door for them, not when the man basically handed me my storefront without a second thought.
Carefully, I open the door, making sure I’m all smiles and not a bumbling mess of pent-up sexual frustration.
“Mr. Moseley, how nice to see you this morning. How can I help you today?”
“It seems you and I need to have a chat, Ms. St. John.” His glare darts Krampus’ way, teeth clenching menacingly. “Alone.”
