Page 14 of Miss Christmas

“I’ll take a rain check on your offer. I really only meant to see you home safely tonight. A girl like you needs to watch out in a city like this,” he said, leaning against the door, holding her close.

“A girl like me? Really? You need to stop channeling Humphrey Bogart.”

He smiled. “What do you know about Bogie?”

“I know he was a sucker for Lauren Bacall. But I’m no Bacall. No subtlety in me.”

“That’s okay. I’m no Bogie. I’m much taller. Plus, I’m not a dead actor.” She rolled her eyes but let a small laugh escape. He slid a hand through the lush tresses of her hair and pulled her face to within a breath of his.

“Those lips of yours are so kissable,” he whispered, his voice heavy with sexed-up longing.

“Which lips do you mean?” The shock of her words went straight to his dick, jolting it upright and rod-stiff. In spite of the return of his ready-and-willing state, his mind and conscience buzzed like a pesky gnat reminding him of his intentions—or lack of good ones. He needed to focus on finding a meaningful relationship, not extending this wild-ass liaison that had him tipsy on testosterone overload and wandering through his day with the focus of a twelve-year-old.

In answer, he pressed his mouth to hers in a light kiss and forced himself to pull away after an unsatisfying beat.

She said, “You do realize that I see myself safely home every night with no help from you, so there was really no point in you coming here.” She stopped talking and her playful smile faded. “Except you changed your mind.” She straightened and pulled away from him. “I don’t remember the last time a man rejected me. Congratulations, Will Regal.” She saluted him. “Have a good life.” She turned and opened her door.

“Wait, I didn’t mean to—” He had no idea what he was going to say because he had meant to reject her. “I mean I didn’t want to reject you.”

She paused in her doorway, and he could swear her look was pitying with a devilish slant. His stomach flopped.

“Don’t worry. I get it. I’m from the other side of the tracks and you can’t even bring yourself to have a fling—”

“That’s not it.” He found himself grabbing her arms to hold onto her. Conflict had him mad out of his mind. Her sure smirk mocked him. He bent his head.

“You have me so mixed up I don’t even know what the hell I’m doing, Scarlet.” He took a deep breath. “I only know two things.”

“I’ll bite. What are those two things?” Amusement shone in her eyes, lifting his spirits even though she was amused at his expense.

“First, I’m irrevocably in lust with you.”

She rolled her eyes as if to say, No kidding, Captain Obvious. The look made him smile.

“Second, you are ruining my concentration and though I’m not sure if satisfying my lust will cure that problem, I do want to try it out.” He paused a beat while he watched her face soften. “But I lied. I know a third thing—or I strongly suspect it—and that is that you are trouble, even in small doses, like a tempting poisonous flower. If I knew anything about botany I could name the flower, but I don’t. So there it is.”

“And what does that confession all boil down to, Will? Are you coming or are you going?”

“I’m . . . going. For now. But I’m begging for time to sort things through.”

“I’ll give you until tomorrow. Then I’m back on the market.”

“Market?”

“You know—I’ll put my profile back up on Tinder and Hinge and all those other hookup apps.” She stopped and widened her eyes at him, then laughed. “You know nothing of dating apps, do you? I bet you’ve never used one.”

“Never have. I’ve heard tell of their existence, but—”

“Don’t tell me. Women routinely throw themselves at you so you never bothered.”

“Don’t tell me men don’t routinely throw themselves at you?”

“Of course they do, but I prefer to date on my own terms.”

With his tongue planted in his cheek, he said, “I would never have guessed.”

She pulled herself from his grasp. “It’s cold out here. Until tomorrow, Will.” She gave him a genuine, unaffected smile, no mockery, no games.

He watched her go inside and close the door on him.