18
DREW
We’ve still got too many unfinished pieces for Santa’s Village, and I’m seriously stressing out, but Greyson offered to stay late with me to finish as much as we can before the early morning set up.
I’m covered in paint and sawdust, and my eyes are starting to cross when Greyson breaks out a few beers.
“Come on. You need a break. It’s almost midnight.” He offers me a cold bottle, and the malty tang pulls a sigh out of me. His smile eases some of the tension as he takes his own swig. “Remember that the kids aren’t going to obsess over the details the same way you do.”
My shoulders drop, tension crackling along my back. It’s true, and I needed to hear it, but I can’t help myself. Greyson must read my mind because he laughs.
“Perfectionist. Always was.”
“Always will be.” I smile back. Being around Greyson is easy. He doesn’t pile on the expectations, and we just get each other. It’s a nice change.
He leans against the stack of two-by-fours beside me, our elbows brushing. “I think you’ve done a damn good job, Drew. Better than anyone else in this town could have.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks as I take another swig of my beer. He nudges me with his elbow.
“Still terrible at taking compliments, too, I see.”
Sighing, I tip my head back and look at him out of the corner of my eye. “Don’t have a lot of practice is all.”
“Well, I’ll have to make a point to give you more practice then.”
The way my cheeks are flaming, I must be brighter red than Santa’s sleigh, so I redirect. “You think the kids are going to like the gifts I have for Santa to give out?”
Greyson turns, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear, bemusement curling his mouth. “Yes. Stop fretting.”
I pout. “I’m not sure I know how.”
“I’ve got ways of taking your mind off of it.” The chill of his fingers traces around my ear, following the curve of my throat and down to my low collar.
Sparks follow in the wake of his touch and desire blooms low in my belly. I find that I enjoy the way he looks at me far too much.
“What did you have in mind?” Wow, my voice has gone hoarse, and the way his blue eyes darken even further, it’s obvious he’s noticed.
Greyson tilts his head to the side, like he’s contemplating his next move. “Could toss you in the snow and cool you off. Looks like you might be overheating.”
But his voice is dangerous and sexy. Is he testing his options? Where the line is between flirting and going too far?
He has no idea that I’ve replayed what it felt like to have him touch me over and over again when I lay alone in my bed at night.
“Don’t you dare.”
That blooms a full smile across his face, the kind that makes his eyes shine and shows off those little crinkling lines around them. It enhances how good-looking he is.
“You don’t know this about me, Drew, but I cannot resist a dare.”
“That wasn’t a dare.”
“Too late.” He sets his beer down and snatches me around the waist, swinging me into the air.
I press my thumb over the mouth of my beer to keep from spilling, and a loud squeal erupts from my throat without my permission.
“Greyson!”
He lunges for the door, and I grab a hold of the back of his shirt.
