Page 59 of Holly Ever After

“It's a way to pass the time. If I leave you alone for too long, you’ll try to fix something else around here. And who knows, maybe we'll learn something new about each other.”

“What, like favorite colors? Yours is red by the way.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh please, like you have anything better to do.”

“Fine, but maybe I should be in charge of the twenty questions. That way, at least one of us will ask something interesting.”

She pouts, “Are you saying my questions would be boring?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

Her eyes narrow, but she's grinning, and the look is so damn beautiful that I feel a sudden warmth that has nothing to do with the fire or the beer.

“Fine,” she agrees. “You can ask the first question, but I swear, if it's something dumb, I'll throw you out into the snow myself.”

“Alright,” I say, leaning back and pretending to think hard. “First question: If you had to be trapped in one of your romance novels, would you prefer the brooding billionaire, the bad-boy biker, or the sensitive artist?”

She looks surprised, then amused. “Really, Sean? That's your groundbreaking first question? If I didn’t know any better, which I do, I’d say you’ve read my books.”

“Well? I'm waiting.”

She sighs dramatically, trying and failing to hide her smile behind her bottle. “The sensitive artist.”

I feign shock. “Not the bad-boy biker? I was rooting for him.”

“I've had enough bad boys to last a lifetime.” She looks pointedly at me.

I chuckle. “Duly noted. Your turn.”

“Alright. If you had to wear women's lingerie for a day, what would it be? A lacey thong, a corset, or a garter belt?”

I nearly spit out my beer. “What the hell kind of question is that?”

She grins, obviously pleased with herself. “You said to make it interesting.”

“Damn,” I mutter. “Alright. A corset. It seems...supportive.”

She nearly chokes on her beer. “Oh my god, I can't unsee that now.”

“You got any?”

“Why? Are you telling me you want to try it?”

I wink at her, making her shift in her seat. “Oh, no. I want to see you in it.”

“Pervert.” She chews her bottom lip, her eyes bulging. “I might.”

“Mmm,” I hum, closing my eyes only to receive a punch to my arm.

“Stop picturing me in lingerie.”

“Don’t have to. I can close my eyes and see you naked.”

“Oh my God.” She sinks back into the cushions, laughing. “Just ask your damn question.”

“What's the most embarrassing thing you've ever done?”

She hesitates, and I swear I don’t think any human has ever turned a brighter shade of red. Attempting to hide it, she buries her face in her hands. “I can’t say it.”

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