Page 3 of Party Crasher
“Yeah, well, I haven’t forgotten how to drive one.” He bites back a laugh. “Just thought I’d bring out the cool car. My nephews are getting big, fast. I’ve got to get the face time in with them while they still think Uncle Cade is a superhero.”
“Yeah, I think you still have time. Bart is in the fourth grade, and Jim is in second. They’re really sweet kids. I see them at the school from time to time.” Their sweet little faces pop into my mind. There aren’t any strangers in Deadwood.
“You’re a school nurse then.” He raises an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth tugs up. “That’s hot. They give you some kind of uniform for that?”
I shake my head and let out a laugh. “Guess I’m not the only one who hasn’t changed since high school.”
My phone buzzes against the coffee table. The vibration cuts through our conversation. Katie's name lights up the screen.
"Sorry, it's my sister." I reach for the phone. "She's helping me coordinate Santa's Cruisers this year.”
I wait for recognition to register on his face. It’s one of the biggest events of the year. When it doesn’t, it strikes me how removed Cade really is from our hometown.
I continue, “It's a Christmas bike drive for kids who wouldn't get presents otherwise. We're supposed to deliver Christmas Eve, but I’m coordinating it this year and things are..." I glance at the phone again as it continues buzzing. "Our numbers are way down this year. Anyway, I should take this."
Cade's expression shifts. Something unreadable flickers across his features. "Don’t let me get in your way.”
3
CADE
“So letme get this straight. You’re hiding out here from Katie’s divorce. Delivering presents to kids on Christmas and being a total smoke show while doing it. Did I miss anything?” I flash a flirty smile in Josie’s direction, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
Instead, Josie continues painstakingly applying sprinkles to the side of her gingerbread house one at a time. “Well, I’m baking cookies too, don’t forget the cookies.” She hardly looks up at me.
In the span of four hours, I’ve pulled out every trick in the book. I’ve shamelessly flirted with her. I’ve offered to buy her everything under the sun, and I’ve regaled her with tales of my life in the NFL. But Josie is completely unimpressed by me. It’s an odd reaction, if I’m being honest, and it’s driving me crazy. Josie is focused on holiday cheer, but I can’t stop thinking about decking her halls.
There's something magnetic about her that makes it impossible to look away. It's not just her mesmerizing curves… though those don't hurt, of course. Her white shirt reads ho-ho-hot in red glitter, and it isn’t wrong. Her mane of long darkhair is pulled back into a ponytail that drapes down her back. Her thighs are thick. Her ass is round. There isn’t an ounce of makeup on her face. She’s the complete opposite of the women I’ve been dating, and she’s absolutely stunning.
But it’s more than that. There's substance to Josie. Maybe it’s the fact that I’ve known her for the majority of my life. It’s an honesty that you just don’t find, a willingness to treat me like a normal person. I fold my arms across my chest. She's humming Christmas carols under her breath while she tidies up. She’s got a depth that's refreshing, and I want more. I crave it. For some reason, she’s keeping me at arm's length.
She glances at me from beneath long, dark lashes. “Do you want to do the roof? I’ve got peppermints or gumdrops.”
“I’ve made it a point to opt out of holidays. Growing up, Pa didn’t make much of them.”
“Well, we’re adults now. Come on, live a little.” She slides a bag of candy in my direction, and I take the opportunity to move closer to her.
I follow her lead, but it’s hard when I’m distracted by the swell of cleavage that presses together every time she leans forward. She looks at my wild layers of candy thrown on top of the house with no rhyme or reason.
“Love it. See, this isn’t that bad, right? We’ll have you in an ugly Christmas sweater in no time.”
I let out a chuckle. “Yeah, it’s all right. With my ex, it seems like something always went wrong. Nothing was good enough. We’d open gifts, and if she didn’t get the right photo for her social media, she’d wrap them up and we’d try it again.”
“Are you kidding me?” Josie stops mid-hum and stares at me. “That’s serial killer behavior.”
“Ha, yeah, it sounds ridiculous now that I say it out loud, but yeah. It wasn’t fun.” The memory leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Three years of manufactured holiday perfection thatfelt anything but perfect. “So these days I’m officially a grade A Grinch.”
She eyes me, tilting her head from one side to the other. “No.” Josie leans back. “I’m sorry, I don’t buy it. I think deep down you’ve always wanted to be one of those Christmas card-type people. You can be a cool-guy football star all you want, but I remember the real you. But that’s okay. If you insist on my, spending my Christmas getaway with a self-proclaimed Grinch, I'll try to survive the experience.”
“You aren’t the only one surviving.” I tease her, and this gets her attention. “Look at all this, the twinkle lights, the gingerbread-scented candles, the whole Hallmark movie setup. I'm supposed to be cutting carbs, and you've turned this place into a sugar-coated wonderland.'"
She lets out a laugh that's pure music. “Listen, Grinch, you're just hangry. Hold on.” She opens the refrigerator and returns to the kitchen table with a tray of perfectly iced sugar cookies.
Each one is a tiny, detailed work of art. She sets the tray between us and bites the head off a snowman cookie without hesitation. A woman who actually eats real food. It's been way too long since I've seen that. Then she gestures for me to take one.
“Come on, dig in.” She eyes me with a half-smile on her face. “Cade, I’m saying this with love. Fuck the football diet. It’s almost Christmas. Haven’t you heard? Dad bods are all the rage. Even Travis Kelce knows it.”
I hesitate for only a moment. I think of my trainer's inevitable lecture, then look at Josie's expectant face. The choice is easy. “Yeah, you’re right. Fuck the diet.”
