My hackles rose. “He’s not boring.”
She kinda rolled her eyes. “He has to have a plan foreverything.I swear he had our life thought out all the way to the matching rocking chairs in a Florida condo.”
That didn’t sound half bad.
“And he was already talking about children.”
My biological clock reminded me of all of those adorable babies in the line to see Santa.
She took out her compact and applied more powder. “We weren’t even married, and there he was, talking about a house and a good school district.”
“A lot of women would love to find a man who’s not afraid of commitment,” I said softly.
“Well, you are welcome to him,” she said with the indulgent smile of a woman who’d traded up. Or thought she had.
My hands clenched into fists. I had the irrational urge to punch her into next week.
Wait. She thought Cole and I were an item.
Of course, she thinks the two of you are an item. You’re at a company Christmas party together.
Well, then.
The corners of my lips turned up in a smile that had to be Grinchian. “I’m so glad you dumped him. Boring? Not with me. And the sex? My toes are curling just thinking about later tonight. Maybe we’ll leave early.”
Her jaw dropped, and I twirled on my heel to exit.
I didn’t even feel as though I were lying because just thinking about his proximity on the love seat the other night made my heart race. Then there was the fact my hand still felt warm and tingly at the memory of his touch.
Stop it, Aubrey.
So the two of you seem to have a little chemistry. He is still Mr. Successful McPlanny Pants and you are still Little Miss Dreamy von Screw Things Up.
As I entered the ballroom, I almost collided with him, and my hands came up to his chest to steady myself. It was a nice chest, a very nice chest.
“Bro, you’re under the mistletoe,” a guy said, clapping Cole’s shoulder as he walked by.
We both looked up. Sure, enough, there was a huge ball of mistletoe, like the kind you might find in real life at the top of a tree.
“Oh, hi, Cole,” Deidre said from behind me. I could hear a new interest in her voice.
So I reached forward and brushed his lips with mine.
I went into the kiss with a thought of “Look at what you’re missing, Deidre,” but soon lost myself in him. His soft, surprised lips. His aftershave. Him.
I deepened the kiss, and he met me hungrily. I could tell the moment when he remembered he was at a company Christmas party, though, because he gave a little sigh of regret and stepped back, his hands now on my bare shoulders.
“Well, I see you’ve moved on,” Deidre said with a sniff.
His eyes never left mine even as he answered her, “Sure did.”
I grinned, and he mouthed the words, “Thank you,” but the bell in my clutch didn’t ring.
Of course not.
That was not an unselfish act.
No, based on the tingle of my lips and the butterflies in my stomach, I’d definitely had an ulterior motive for that kiss.
