Page 12 of The Naughty List Agreement

Instead, he leaned toward her.

Cora’s eyes widened. Her hand came up to rest against his chest. The heat of her palm burned through his shirt. She wasn’t pushing him away. She grasped the fabric in her fist, pulling him closer. He lowered his head.

One kiss… One taste of her…

It would probably be marshmallow flavored and a major turn-off.

Her warm breath against his face tempted him to press his lips to hers. He glimpsed a sudden hint of vulnerability in her eyes that stopped him. He had no idea what he was doing, but he knew helplessness when he saw it.

He swerved and instead picked up his whittling knife, sliding his body past her. He coughed and took several steps back, hoping that would be enough to douse the fire she’d ignited inside of him. He picked up a block of wood that revealed the beginnings of an arctic fox he’d seen while out walking in Frostfall Forest.

Cora turned her back and swept some wood shavings off the bench. When she turned back around, her face was coolly neutral and entirely composed, as though nothing had happened.

Nothing had happened, Nick reminded himself.

“You start with an ordinary block of wood?” she said pointedly.

“Most beginners start with a soft wood, like walnut or balsam. This is cherry.”

“How long have you been carving?” she asked.

Given that he was 132 years old, he had to be careful how he phrased his answer. “My dad taught me. Did your dad teach you anything?”

She chewed her lower lip.

He forced his gaze to the emerging figure of the arctic fox in his hands instead of staring at her mouth. He wasn’t interested in her. He couldn’t be. No matter how many times he reiterated that to himself, his dick didn’t get the message.

“He taught me nothing’s more important than being good at your job.”

That explained things a bit. “Was he an event planner like you?”

“He worked for a large multinational and traveled a lot. He doesn’t like staying in one place,” she admitted.

“But you do.”

She shrugged. “When you’ve never had a permanent home growing up, you make your own as an adult.”

She tried to make it sound impersonal, but had her childhood been lacking magic? Was it too late for her to start to see the magic that was all around her?

No wonder she prized owning new items for the holiday season. She bought things to replace the connection her father should have provided. “What about your mother?”

“Not so fast. What about yours?” she countered. “Conversations are a back-and-forth thing, remember? Not all one-sided.”

Laughter burst out of him. “Fair enough. She taught me to lick cookie dough from the beaters, to launder my darks and lights separately, and that laughter always makes you feel better.”

“Sounds delightful,” she said. “Now that we’ve had a conversation … let’s get back to the packaging for the WonderHaus.”

At least it was a start.

“I’ll get a box design to you tomorrow.”

“Great.”

And that was that. Discussion over.

They left the workshop. He used a bit of Yulekind to keep her warm as he hurried her along. When they entered the portal and passed through, Nick breathed a sigh of relief they hadn’t run into any of his elves.

The evening could have gone worse.