Page 224 of Screwged for Christmas

Ivy slipped from her coat and hung it on a peg Damon positioned on a stretch of wall beside the office. “Yep. Found out she’s having twins and Holden and Riley are not going to let her out of their sight for the next four months. I guarantee it.”

Damon’s brows shot up in surprise. “I bet Ethan is going to flip when he hears that and regret offering up a free nursery as bounty in their bet.”

“She had him on speed dial before Holden and Riley had her fully settled inside the truck. I foresee he’s going to be up several nights redoing the design for Zahara’s nursery.”

Damon laughed a low relaxed rumble that teased a smile from her. “That’ll teach him a few things about mouthing off.”

With it barely after noon she still had several hours before Zahara was due back for another visit. A little over twenty-four hours in town and she’d quickly found out not even a snowstorm would keep these people home. Which she guessed was good for business.

“I see you found my hot chocolate.”

“Is this what you served to the family earlier? Damn, woman, now they really won’t leave.”

A glint in his eyes revealed a hint of the untamed man she knew lurked beneath the surface. He tracked her progressed across the room before he took another long sip.

“You’ll have to give me the recipe so I can hide it away and never let them get their greedy paws on it.”

She bumped her glasses up a notch and let her gaze rake over his crossed ankles and the way his thighs looked locked together. He was the embodiment of masculinity. Mussed hair, a slight shadow of stubble along his jaw and a black t-shirt that clung to well-defined muscles she enjoyed beneath her touch, if only briefly.

A sly grin played with the tips of her mouth.

A voice of reason shuffled aside the bits and pieces of their interaction and focused on what stood out. Damon and her alone. Again. She was in big trouble and not a soul in sight to save her. Not even the dishwasher hummed in the background.

Better yet, there was no one to save him.

She shuddered as a shift in the energy sent a zing of anticipation up her spine. In a bar and not one person on the street beyond the frosted windows when you couldn’t get anyone to go home yesterday. A few cars drove by but for the most part no one was due until later that afternoon. What she couldn’t decide was if that was a good thing or not.

To busy her hands, Ivy shuffled through the folded aprons before deciding on one of the many identical ones. With ease, she wound the long strands of leather around her waist and tied off the knots. “Give you my super-secret recipe?” She ticked a finger on the side of her lip. “Depends. What’s in it for me? I’m still waiting on that steak dinner you offered me yesterday.” She huffed on her nails and pretended to polish them on her sweater. The one with the word GANGSTA WRAPPER in bold red and green glitter with tiny boxes, ribbons, and bows splattered all over it. Tacky and she loved it even more as Damon eyed the words with a smirk and a shake of his head.

His sensual lips parted around the rim of his mug again, and she watched the way his throat worked down the warm liquid. “Hmm. True. Which I’ll make good on that date.”

Like an actual date? Red flags sprang up and she back peddled as though her life depended on it. “No sweat, big guy.”

In a slow glide, Damon pushed up from the stool and unleashed the power of his glare on her. “Be careful, angel. Continue to insult my honor and you’ll be more than shivering in your boots from the cold. You’ll be running from the big bad mountain man on your tail.”

Her phone pinged from her back pocket and she dashed away the intrusion. When you were being hunted, rulenumero unowas never take your eyes off the predator that was after you.

She swore the energy in the bar shifted to overdrive. Currents of lust were so thick she could reach out and touch them. Touch him. Damon rounded the bar at the exact time her phone pinged from her back pocket for a second time. Damn it. He already suspected something was up. Her phone going off clenched the deal with how she refused to answer it.

“You going to get that?”

Her breath hitched. Marcy had the worst time in the history of texting.

“No one important. Umm… besides, it is almost lunchtime and I am starving. So…” Was that her shaky voice? Gah. Get it together. Ivy took a deep breath and slowly asked, “What is on the menu for today? Anything special?”

She knew as soon as the words left her mouth she had stepped in it big time.

“Special? Yes. You, angel.”

Pulling her guidebook out like an invisible shield against sexy beasts with an appetite for city girls, Ivy started thumbing through the pages, her gaze not really landing on anything. “Did you know that in some parts of Alaska they make pizza delivery by plane?”

He stalked closer.

Her heart rate tripled.

“And did you know that the state flower is the forget-me-not?”

“Oh angel, there’s not a soul you’ve come in contact with that could forget you.”

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