Page 17 of The Christmas Nanny

“You really wanted to go.” She moved her hand around mine, which was still on her knee, edging it up her thigh.

“Tell you what. Stick Wigglebutt in a cat carrier, and we’ll head to my place. Slim Shady won’t bother him. We’ll make a snowman out back if it snows enough.”

“I have an interview tomorrow,” she said.

“So do I, remember?” I sat back against the headboard. “I’ll ensure you’re home in time for your interview.”

“I need to grab a few things,” she said, sliding from the bed.

“I’ll wait in the living room.”

“You’re way too good to me, Jacob. I’m afraid I’ll disappoint whatever expectations you have.”

“I have no expectations. What’s going to happen is what’s going to happen. I’d be disappointed if you decided to end this, but I get it. We’re both on the rebound. Take your time.”

I grabbed a seat on the couch, my mind wandering, my dick growing, the thought of Christine in the basement, sitting on the queening chair that arrived last week, me beneath her, ran through my head. The Mrs Claus outfit, my Santa outfit. A perfect Christmas painting. Would she run back up the stairs if I took her to the basement? Or would she embrace the things I’ve embraced?

“You’re deep in thought,” Christine said. She had a travel bag in one hand and nothing in the other. “Wigglebutt will be fine home alone for one night.” She still wore the Mrs Claus costume.

Outside, we tromped through several inches of snow before getting to the car. I opened her door and then cleaned the snow from the windshield. She watched intently. Did she know what I was thinking? That I wanted to do bad things with her. Things she’d never be able to tell another soul.

“I hope we can make it to our interviews tomorrow.” I still didn’t want to pry into something that wasn’t my business. I would definitely ask her about it tomorrow once we were both done. “If they weren’t at the same time, I’d give you a ride,” I said.

“It should be fine tomorrow. The roads will be cleared.”

We got to my place, and I pulled into the garage, got out to open her door, and grabbed her bag, my arm on the small of her back as we went inside. Slim Shady met us at the door, ready to eat. He sniffed at Christine’s crotch but not close enough to leave behind slobber.

“Make yourself at home. I need to feed Shady.”

Christine passed through the kitchen, eyeing the basement door, and I watched her wander around the living room, not nosy but curious. She wouldn’t find any secrets in the living room.

“Be on your best behavior,” I told Slim Shady and filled his bowl. “Keep the slobbering to a minimum.” I rubbed his head and joined Christine.

“You have a beautiful home,” Christine said. She sat on the couch. I put her bag on the kitchen table.

“White or red wine?” I asked.

“I’d settle for a beer if you have one.”

“Two beers coming up.”

I handed Christine a beer in the living room and sat beside her. I grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels.

“Annette told me not to go tonight.” She shrugged. “She thinks I’m moving too fast with you. Do you think we’re moving too fast?”

“She’s a concerned friend. Nothing wrong with that. Relationships go at different speeds depending on the couple. I’d say we’re at a perfect pace for us.”

“You have to understand I’m not used to guys being as nice as you are.” She raised her bottle and took a couple of swallows. “People have hidden agendas.” She glanced toward the kitchen.

“You think the basement is my hidden agenda?” It was the perfect way to put the subject out there. “I’m more than happy to show you what I have down there—nothing to be afraid of. I guess you can say I’m an artist and a gym rat. It’s where I do my painting.”

“Can I see?”

“My paintings aren’t for everyone, Christine. You might not like them.”

“Or I might.” She stood and held out her hand. “Show me the way, and let me decide.”

“Something you need to understand first. I enjoy painting the human body, especially the female form.”

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