Page 61 of Hot for the Jerk

“Be nice, Raina,” Naomi lectured.

I shot her a glare, then quickly ushered Jagger outside, shutting the door behind me.Fuck, it was cold.I hugged my arms around my body.“What’s the meaning of this, McEvoy?We don’t give gifts to each other.We barely tolerate each other.”

He rolled his deep-blue eyes behind his round glasses.“The meaning of this is what it is.I brought you back your underwear.I happened to see a plant that reminded me of you.Dangerous, but adorable, and figured, why the hell not?It’s Christmas Eve, we have a new truce, and maybe the little cactus who brings her own steak knife to a restaurant would appreciate a little cactus.Am I wrong?”

I held the stubby, spiky thing up.It really was adorable.And I did love plants.Plants as gifts were my love language.Marco always bought me plants, brought me flowers, and when he was younger, would even draw me pictures of flowers.Even though he preferred to draw monsters, lizards, and Pokémon.I always gave plants and flowers as gifts too.

My ire softened.“It is a very nice cactus.And I do love plants.”

“There you go,” he said, slightly exasperated.“Don’t read more into it than that.”

Was there more to it than that though?He could have just as easilynotbrought me my underwear and simply tossed them.I didn’t even clue in to their absence.

We stood there in awkward silence now—me cold, him shifting back and forth on his feet.“Is that it?”I asked.

Having shoved his hands into his pockets, he nodded.“Yeah.I guess so.”

“All right.Well, thanks.”My hand landed on the doorknob.

“Merry Christmas, Raina.”

I smiled at him, unable to control that little flip-flop in my belly.“Merry Christmas, McEvoy.”I headed into the house and shut the door behind me, giving Naomi a sharp glare before she opened her stupid mega-grin.

She followed me to the kitchen.“Well, that is the most precious thing in the world.Does he know your love language is plants as gifts?Did you guys talk about that?”She gasped.“Oh my god, was that part of yourpillow talk?”

I placed the cactus on my dining room windowsill among a menagerie of other happy plants and succulents.“Hello, everyone,” I said, ignoring my cousin.“You have a new friend here.I want you to all make …”

“If you don’t name that cactus ‘Jagger,’ I will never forgive you,” Naomi said, cocking her hip into the counter and crossing her arms over her chest.

I growled at her and glanced skyward for some patience.“I want you to all meet Jagger.Make him feel welcome.Let him know the watering schedule and don’t hog the sunlight.There is plenty to go around.”

I positioned Jagger between a bushy, variegated dieffenbachia named Matilda, and a healthy kalanchoe with orange flowers named Geraldine.

“These two ladies will help you learn the ropes and introduce you to the others,” I said to Jagger, turning him a little so the bow faced into the dining room, before nodding with contentment at his position.

“If I didn’t know that studies say talking to your plants helps them grow, I’d consider having you committed,” Naomi said, still leaning against the counter with her arms crossed.“Now that Jagger the Cactus has found his forever home, can we talk about Jagger the Thirst Trap and the fact that he came here to bring you your underwearanda plant?”

“No, we can not.”I made my way back into the living room.

Naomi chased after me.“You spent two nights in a room with that lumber-snack andnothinghappened?Bull.Shit.I refuse to accept that answer.”

“You refuse to accept that answer to what?”asked Gabrielle, coming into my house from the same door Jagger had knocked on a few minutes ago.“Was that Jagger McEvoy I saw leaving?Why was he here?”

Naomi got all smug.“He brought Raina back her underwear, and he brought her a cactus.Because he said it reminded him of her.Strong, prickly, and cute.But I bet it was also a thank-you-for-all-the-angry-sex plant.”

Gabrielle’s mouth went slack.

I glared death lasers at Naomi, but she didn’t give a shit.

“I amnothaving this conversation with you guys,” I said, shaking my head.“And we did not have angry sex.”

Their brows shot to their hairline.

“We didn’t have any kind of sex!”

Not penetrative anyway.

“Let it go.”

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