Page 15 of Yule Know It When You See It
A single dark brow bobs, and like a sliding door, she walks past my desk, revealing Theo standing in front of it with her arms crossed. “You sure work fast. First day, and already making googly eyes at Naomi? Usually takes guys a few days before treading down that particular trail.”
I interlace my fingers behind my head and swivel in my chair. “One, I don’t makegooglyeyes. Two, she came overhere, and three, I’m sure these other guys didn’t have the Triple Threat.”
“As if I even want to ask, but Triple Threat?”
Remaining in my same aloof posture, I flash a wicked grin. “Beard, Blues, and Brogue.”
She blinks once, but the corners of her lips quiver, and I swear a hint of a smile appears.
“Brogue is pushing it a little, don’t you think?”
Sitting straight, I pluck the pen from my notepad. “Give me a break. I needed something that started with ‘b.’ It wasn’t half bad for making it up on the fly.”
Theo smooths her shirt and curls red hair over one ear. “A valiant effort. But I’m still stewing over the sandwich situation.”
“The Sandwich Situation,” I emphasize, laughing. “That the title of your next romance?”
Her gaze turns glossy, and she whips out her phone, feverishly typing something. “The Sandwich Situation. Enemies to lo—” She clears her throat and slams her thumb against the touch screen several times. “—enemies. Just flat-out enemies.”
“Enemies to enemies? What kind of romance is that?” I flip the pen from the inky side to the butt, over and over, needing to keep my hands busy.
“A great one,” Theo spats, slipping her phone back into her pocket.
Would it be easier if shewasn’tcute? Probably.
“Listen, I have an idea. And hear me out before you crap all over it, alright?” I quickly follow up with the second sentence after watching the floodgate she calls a mouth open before I finish.
“Fine.” She juts her hip to one side.
Rising, I dig my hands in my pockets and stand near her. “How much do you know about hockey?”
She makes a face like an actor in a mobster movie after saying, “Fuggedaboutit.” “Tons. It’s my favorite sport.”
“Wow.” I draw out the “o.” “Hope your writing is better than your acting skills.”
Her jaw drops.
“Hey, you’re the one that lied. Trying to impress me?”
She sucks on her teeth. “Um, no. I don’t pretend to like something to get the boy to likeme, thanks.”
“Prove it,” I challenge, trying to ignore the tightening in my gut at the sight of her throat bobbing as she gulps. “What’s the difference between icing and offside?”
Theo twirls her hair, her spiked heel digging into the tiled flooring as she lifts the ball of her foot. “One is on the top of a…cake?”
There’s no denying her adorable mannerisms and the way her wide eyes make her face that much more angelic.
“That’s what I thought. If we’re going to write this, don’t you think you should have a general knowledge of the sport? I have a feeling that’s my biggest part in this column, and Simone isn’t making that clear.”
“Why must I know about infractions to write a romance story?” Theo flicks her wrist in the air.
She knows they’re infractions. It’s certainly a start.
I shift to the desk’s center, leaning back on my hands and gripping the edge. “This is a holiday sports romance laced with real-life encounters we’ll use from observing fans and interviewing players and their better halves. Need to step out of your comfort zone for this one, Hackett.” Dragging a hand down my face and raking it through my beard, I whisper, “I certainly am.”
“I do, maybe, possibly, see your point.”
I rest my forearms on my thighs, glinting at her. “Are you telling me you never research things you aren’t as familiar with for your pieces?”
