Page 65 of The Hanukkah Hoax
A truly egregious mistake, and, boy, oh boy, was she paying for it now.
He wore familiar colors, navy blue, with slashes of red and white lines running vibrantly across his impressive chest like a New York subway mural. The effect was marvelous and speckled him in a sort of war paint, the threat of which one only saw coming once it was right on top of them.
The short neckline and sleeves were another matter entirely, stopping just shy of his prominent collarbones and biceps. Tucked into the skin-tight fabric as he was, there was nowhere to hide any of his power or potency. All of it was proudly on display, from his ribbed abdominals to his muscular thighs, the latter of which stood just far enough apart to draw Marisa’s eyes to another proud display, indeed.
And goddamn that arrogant Scot. When Marisa finally found the courage to meet his eyes, he countered with a mischievous gaze that glowed with a knowing flame that lit her wick of desire. All while Alec stood there, smirk in hand and a scar so lickable that she wouldn’t put it past herself to paint him in sugar and launch herself at him.
He even had the chutzpah to flash a smug grin that very much said, Look your fill now, because I’ll be enforcing some ground rules of my own later.
And now, with that lovely thought pole-dancing through her mind, she had a photo shoot to get through, who knew how many hours of work ahead of her, and barely a shred of dignity left to do it all with.
Chapter 26
It had taken the rest of the night and the better part of the following day, but Marisa was finally done with everything. Or finished, as her ninth-grade science teacher liked to say, before always emphasizing that only food was done. As far as Marisa was concerned, she was both those things, and she wanted nothing more than to throw her fingers into a pair of hydration hand masks and let voice control run her life until the New Year.
Marisa tossed her sugar-splattered apron on a hook and twisted her hair into a messy bun while she surveyed what they’d all managed to accomplish. She’d lost count of how many treat boxes they’d assembled or how many sinfully gorgeous Alecs she’d printed and plastered on gingerbread fudge squares she couldn’t wait to surprise people with.
Last Eden informed her, once the sugar dust settled, they’d landed somewhere in the three-digit range. Meanwhile, Manic and the boys had faithfully stuffed and stacked every single one of the ribboned boxes into optimal height and width ratios for easy transport come the morning. That was another thing Marisa had failed to consider, but she was beyond grateful she had friends who had.
Tomorrow, the Crystal Christmas Ball would arrive on the heels of the final night of Hanukkah, as well as Christmas Eve. And just like Santa, whatever was loaded into the sleigh was all she had to work with.
Solid hands settled over her shoulders, bringing with them Alec’s comforting strength and, more than that, a steely reassurance that warmed her belly and sent a new set of flutters jittering along her nerves.
“You’ve done all you can.”
“I know. I’m just . . .”
“What?” He turned her in his arms, and every insecurity that still beat a rhythm in her brain felt like a betrayal for all the man had given her, for all he’d endured because of her.
For all he would endure.
How the hell was she supposed to stare into those soft, unguarded eyes and tell him that the heated storm behind them was the one thing that had made her feel beautiful and powerful? And that the only thing she’d ever lived up to was other people’s disappointments?
Marisa lifted a shoulder. “Nervous. There’s going to be a lot of attention flying around, and while I’d love it if it were focused on Sweetest Heart’s Desire and what’s in the treat boxes, I’d be stupid to think that’s likely to be the case. And yes, I know that was the point of all of this”—she gestured to the small space between them—“and we manufactured it for a reason, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been here before, to a degree. I guess what I’m trying to say is, this feels different, and well, I’m not interested in losing this time.”
God, even her worries sounded like whines, painting her with a new brand of pity that was unbecoming in all shades. She didn’t want Alec to feel sorry for her, and she sure as hell didn’t want to count herself out before the big show even started, but despite how strong her internal defiance sounded, it was still hard to drown out years of Aunt Gails and Plant Nannies and behind-her-back whispers.
“I’m not of a mind to lose either,” Alec said, squeezing his encouragement into her arms. “Never was. But it’s important to know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“You deserve every bit of praise. And aye, the spotlights may be brighter than usual tomorrow, but that’s only because they’ve yet to capture a star like you.”
Marisa’s mouth fell open, her brain short-circuiting on the wealth of emotion that threatened to pour out of her in droves.
Goddammit, the man got her. Not just got her but genuinely understood her, down to dissecting the sandy bits that made up the sea sludge of her chaos, knowing there was a precious gem or two hiding beneath.
Waiting for him to find.
“I’m done,” she reiterated, insistence paving way to urgency as she marked the way his throat worked on a swallow and every muscle beneath her fingertips went taut.
She needed to kiss this man, not just often, but deeply, and everywhere. She needed to wrap herself in Alec until all the worries in her mind were pushed out by his overwhelming presence.
But overwhelming in the best way, the way that made her heart lighter and gladder and eager to greet what the world threw at her because she knew he’d be throwing punches right alongside her.
“Come home with me, Marisa,” he whispered against her cheek, his words filled with thrilling promises.
“What about Cal? Isn’t he due home tonight?”
