Page 12 of A Cozy Holiday
I stick out my hand. “Now can you give me the key so I can warm up, please?”
“Did you try the front door?” Jamie saunters over, opening the door with ease. “Key’s inside. Nobody locks their houses up here.”
“Well, I will be deadbolting this door tonight.”
“Suit yourself.” He leans against the doorframe. “Fridge is stocked, in case you’re hungry.”
“I’m a vegetarian,” I blurt instead of a proper thank-you, fully expecting the fridge to be brimming with freshly slaughtered reindeer meat. Bile burns in my throat.
“I know. I read your résumé.”
My heart stutters.
The tidbit is there, but buried in the Interests section, which I assumed nobody bothers to read. Not even my longtime coworkers remember my dietary preferences—they constantly order me chicken sandwiches or sushi for group lunches—but this man reads my résumé once and stocks a fridge for me.
Fuck my morals. I want to sleep with him.
“That’s—uh, that’s very thoughtful of you,” I say. “Thanks.”
“If you’re wiped out, you can always join me and the girls for some PB&Js.”
“I’m sure your wife already has her hands full,” I reply, trying to sound nonchalant.
“It’s just me and them,” he says, looking away.
“Oh.” I feel a pang of curiosity.
Where is the girls’ mom?
And if heissingle, does that mean—
I shut down the thought. I am getting out of here.
Tomorrow.
I’ll go to town, find Wi-Fi, book a flight to Greece, stay at a resort, and have an affair with someone who doesn’t own a cowboy hat or read résumés or have an incredibly hot caterpillar hanging on his upper lip.
“Joy?” His long fingers wave in front of my face.
“Huh?”
“You must really be cold.” He glances at the fireplace. “Want me to start a fire for you? Or you can thaw off at my house while I make the sandwiches.”
“I’ll manage dinner and the fire on my own.”
The less time I spend with Jamie Wilder, the better.
Chapter 4
Let’s Save this Satanic Reindeer Slaughterhouse
Thirty Days Until I Can Go Back to Work
It’sthe pounding that startles me awake.
I shoot upright like I’ve been zapped with a cattle prod. I blink against the pale light hanging overhead, disoriented.
Where the hell am I?
