Page 25 of The Naughty List Agreement

Cora, get yourself together. Stop lusting after the toymaker.

“Most people dress up for a date, right?”

“Maybe. I mean, yes. But, see, that’s part of why I’m anti-relationships. You start out as this better than normal version of you. How would I live up to me on my best behavior? I mean, I’m not going to be like that all the time.”

Nick laughed, the deep belly sound wrapping around her like a warm hug. “You are too much.”

“I’m not wrong,” she stated confidently. “Wouldn’t it be so much easier to be yourself?”

“Fair enough, but this is part of who I am. There’s more to you than a short sparkly skirt that shows off your lovely long legs. I’m sure you don’t wear that to clean the bathroom or run to the store.”

She would have argued the point, but she couldn’t think beyond the fact that he’d noticed her legs—not just noticed, admired.

They walked in companionable silence until they turned onto her street. Most of the houses had already started decorating for Christmas and were lit up, but hers was dark and plain.

“This is yours?”

She nodded.

“No lights?”

“Not yet,” she lied. She never decorated her place. She might be the Queen of Christmas as far as the public was concerned, but in private Christmas was something to be endured not celebrated.

“I’m shocked. What would kids think if they showed up at my booth and I wasn’t dressed like a toymaker?” he asked dryly. She noticed that he tended to get sarcastic whenever she pushed him.

“Yeah, um, about that⁠—”

“If you renege, I’m taking WonderHaus and walking away from the festival,” he said succinctly.

Damn. No room for negotiating there. She just hoped whatever the uniform was, it made her legs look killer.

CHAPTER 7

There were times when he wished he had the gift of mind-reading and this was one of them. He could tell he was missing something important. That melancholy he’d sensed in her earlier was back, tinged with a hint of anger and longing.

Even without decorations, he could see why she’d been drawn to the property. “Nice place.”

“Thanks. It was important to me to live in a house that felt like home,” she said.

“Why is that?”

“Don’t we all want to feel at home?” she countered. He should have guessed she’d deflect. Cora gave out tiny crumbs of herself but then immediately turned the spotlight away from herself.

“I do,” he admitted. “I live in my parents’ old place. They retired and are off traveling now.” His dad had promised to show his mom all his favorite places in the world once he retired. So far they’d mainly stuck to the United States.

“I can tell you had a really nice upbringing,” she said, envy in her voice.

“I did. Not everyone does and … I’m guessing you didn’t.”

“Nope. Like I mentioned, Dickensian.” Slowly she walked up the path that led to her front door. The night sky was clear and, without overthinking it, he conjured some snow. Cora needed a little dusting of seasonal magic. She let out a startled gasp and tipped her head back as the flakes started to fall around them.

A little laugh escaped her lips and her hand sought his. He threaded his fingers through hers, enjoying the touch of her skin. Joy radiated from every pore of her body. It surprised him, but the bloom of warmth inside him was undeniable. He was just pleased she was finally beginning to open up so he could get her back on the Nice List. That’s all it was. He couldn’t afford for it to be anything else.

He focused instead on why her reaction to such a simple thing was unexpected. Of course she experienced happiness. He guessed she just didn’t like anyone to know what she liked. He tucked his arm around her, pulling her close, and began to sing “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas” under his breath.

Her cold cheek pressed against his as she slipped her arms around his shoulders and sang along with him. “It really is! This is the perfect ending to this day. Snow days were always my favorite, growing up.”

Snowfall was romantic, and since when did Cora have anything to do with romance?