Page 18 of Never Sleigh Never
Mason rushes to Willa’s side. A rumble of laughter escapes his throat. “I can’t take you anywhere.” He stretches his hand out to her and hoists her to her feet.
“Not my fault,” she retorts.
The sunlight disappears as a dark cloud passes above me. My gaze drifts up. Not a cloud—Logan. The corner of his lips tip up into a smile, causing his signature sexy dimple to peek through. He stretches his hand down to me, and I stare at it as if it’s a venomous snake. I lift my hand to swat it away, but from the corner of my eye, I catch sight of his daughter, eyes glued to us, and I think better of it.
“I don’t bite.” His voice is low, almost seductive.
A montage of Logan’s hands roaming my body, nipping at my heated skin, biting—nope. Not today brain. Instead, I reach up, placing my hand in his. As soon as my skin connects with his, an unfamiliar feeling races through my body. It’s warm, almost comforting. Before I can think too much into it, he effortlessly hoists me to my feet.
“Are you okay?” The words are soft as they tumble off his lips. His fingers still wrap around my hand, our bodies inches from touching.
Physically, yes. Mentally, hell no. “Yeah. I think so,” I squeak out. His gaze skims down my body, and I’m not sure if he’s searching for wounds or checking me out, but as his lips part, I’m leaning toward the latter.
He brushes a hand down my arm and stalls at my hip. “I’ll, uh… let you get that.”
Glancing down, a smattering of snow and dirt cover my thigh and around to my butt. Why does a part of me wish he had brushed it off himself?
I wipe it off. “Thank you,” I mumble.
He leans in a fraction, giving me a front row view of his dimple. “What was that?”
“Thank you,” I grit through a fake smile.
“You’re welcome.” He steps back, and the air loosens its grip on my lungs.
“I guess the rumors are true,” Mason says to Logan.
Ice slides into my stomach. What rumors? What has he heard? My underwear? The coffee incident? Has Willa said anything to him?
Mason releases Willa and covers the distance to Logan in two easy strides. “It’s good to see you again. I thought the rumor mill was drunk, but here you are. Nice hat.” He flicks the pom on Logan’s Santa hat.
Logan laughs. “It gets me into the holiday spirit.”
The little girl from earlier barrels over and tugs his hand. “Daddy! I found the perfect tree!”
Logan wraps his arm around her shoulder and tugs her to his side. “And this one picked it out for me.”
Willa crouches down. “And who is this cutie?”
“I’m Josie. This is my dad.” She points to Logan.
“Hi Josie. I’m Willa.”
Logan gestures between us. “These are my friends: Willa, Mason, and Brie. This is my daughter, Josie.”
Friends is generous, but I let it slide. I squat beside Willa. “Josie, do you like candy canes?”
She bobs her head up and down. “Yes.”
“Would you like one?” I pull a red and white striped candy cane from my pocket and hold it out to her. Surprisingly, it’s still in one piece.
She glances up at Logan for a brief second, and then her hazel eyes, a spitting image of Logan’s, meet mine. “My daddy says I can’t take candy from strangers.”
We all chuckle.
“Finally, something I tell her sticks,” Logan says with a chuckle. “It’s okay. You can take it.”
Josie snatches the candy cane from my hands. “Thank you.”
