Page 24 of Holiday Interference
The thought of her standing still makes about as much sense as a shark taking a nap.
Still…
“It’s freezing,” I say. “Sidewalks are probably a mess.”
She turns, one brow arched, a hint of a smile tugging at her mouth. “You’re adorable when you worry, Reid. I’m not planning on sledding to Midtown. Just coffee.”
“In your dress?”
She sighs, but the corner of her mouth softens. “Of course not; I’m not an idiot. I’m sure you have something I can wear.”
That earns a quiet laugh out of me before I can help it.
She walks toward my bedroom, stopping in the doorway. “Mind if I raid your closet?”
“Go for it.”
I push off the counter and follow her into my room, where she makes a beeline for my closet.
She scans the options, and ends up pulling out my gray sweatshirt and a thick parka I haven’t worn since I lived in New Hampshire.
When she pulls it on over the already too big clothes she’s wearing of mine, she looks ridiculous and perfect in it—hood too big, sleeves hanging past her hands, hem brushing her knees.
“You look like a kid playing dress-up,” I say, chuckling.
Her eyes flick toward mine, sharp but amused. “And you look like someone who’s about to get stuck with cabin fever here,” she points to herself, “and regret it.”
That makes me grin. “You’re not walking out there in those heels or your emergency flats.”
“I didn’t bring boots, Cal. Kind of didn’t plan on a snowstorm trapping me in a stranger’s apartment.”
She’s right. Still doesn’t mean I like it.
I grab my boots from the rack—black leather, beat to hell from years of winters that never really left me—and set them down beside her feet. “Wear these.”
She looks from them to me. “You’re serious.”
“They’ll keep your feet dry. You can fold the tops down if you need to. I’ll—” I stop before I can saycarry you if you falllike an idiot. “They’ll work.”
She hesitates for half a second, then slides her hands into the sleeves of my parka and tugs one boot toward her with the toe of her sock. When she bends to pull it on, her hair falls forward, the deep red brushing her pale cheeks.
The movement is simple—ordinary—but it knocks something loose inside me anyway.
She laughs quietly when she stands. “I look ridiculous.”
“You look warm.”
Those green eyes catch mine for a beat too long. Something flickers there—something I can’t name without risking it all.
She gestures toward the door. “Coming?”
No. Yes. Fuck me.
The idea of her walking out into that cold alone twists in my chest.
“Yeah,” I say, voice low. “I’m coming.”
I grab another pair of boots and my coat, pulling them on before following her out into the hallway.
