After the Christmas Party(26)

“Fine.” She relented at his look.

He could tell she was only agreeing because she didn’t think that whether or not she’d be working was an issue. She planned to work, would probably beg to work. A spark of annoyance flashed through him. Surely she didn’t think he’d let her get away with that?

“If I’m not working, I’ll go with you to Christmas dinner with your family.” She gave him a stern look. “But the next time you ask me out to dinner, there had better actually be food involved rather than shopping because, in case you couldn’t tell by looking at me, I’m not one of those girls who skips meals.”

He threw his head back in laughter. “Funny girl. You’re perfect just as you are, princess, and should never skip meals. No worries. I will feed you. Right after we buy your decorations.”





CHAPTER SEVEN



UHE LAST THING Trinity wanted in her apartment was Christmas decorations. She certainly didn’t want to waste her hard-earned money on glittery, glowing fake trees and wreaths and garlands. Just having to walk through the aisles of ornaments and bows made her skin crawl.

She fought the urge to throw her hands into the air and run out of the store. This was pure torture.

Telling Riley the truth about her childhood had been torture. Why had she done so?

She’d never told anyone. Not even Chase. She’d not wanted to see the look of pity in his eyes, hadn’t wanted anyone’s pity. She was doing just fine, had a good life overall. She didn’t need some man coming along and stirring up all kinds of childhood hang-ups to go along with the new ones Chase had hand-delivered two years ago.

She hadn’t liked the sympathy in Riley’s eyes. She didn’t need his sympathy. She hadn’t needed him to invite her to spend Christmas with his family out of pity.

“What about this?” Riley asked, pointing out a box of red glass balls. He’d already pointed out more than two dozen decorations, all of which she’d turned down. She could tell he was losing patience with her. Good. Hopefully, he’d soon take the hint that she really didn’t want to be doing this. Maybe she could fake a stomach growl to speed things along. She willed her stomach to let loose with a loud rumble, but didn’t even manage a tiny one.

Great, the one time she wanted loud body noises around a hot guy and she couldn’t even force one out. It figured.

Barely glancing at what he held, she shook her head. “No, thank you. Not interested. Besides, I really don’t need any decorations. Just dinner.”

“I’ve never met anyone who needs decorations more than you.” His frustration was obvious and rubbed her wrong.

“I think I’m offended by that comment.” She hadn’t asked him to take her shopping, had only agreed to dinner, not a stroll down holiday horror lane.

He raked his fingers through his hair, glanced around the aisle then faced her. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“Because there’s a good way to say someone needs plastic garland, fake glass balls and gaudy red velvet bows?”

“Precisely.” Obviously having whipped his frustration into control, he grinned and held up a box of horrid cheap plastic candy canes for her inspection. “What about these? Awesome, right?”

Hoping he’d take the hint, Trinity didn’t hide her boredom, just yawned. “If I pretended that my blood sugar was bottoming out, could we go and eat? Please?”

His gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Is your sugar dropping?”

She grimaced then shook her head. “No, but I could fake it.”

He touched her chin, tilted her face towards him. “As long as I have breath in my body, I don’t ever want you faking anything. I don’t want you to even have need of faking anything.” His lips twitched. “And I do mean anything.”

His fingers burned her skin, singeing her flesh with the feel of him. She stepped back before she did something stupid. Like say she wanted to buy mistletoe. Bunches and bunches of mistletoe. Barrels of it.

“Okay, deal,” she agreed, hoping he didn’t see how his touch had made her pulse race and her breath catch. “Feed me, so I don’t have to fake interest in shopping.”

He shook his head in obvious displeasure. “If you really want to go, we’ll go, but I’m disappointed that we didn’t find a single thing you wanted.”

She wanted him to touch her again, and in more places than just her chin. Did that count? It should because it was a really big want.

Then she saw it.

At the end of the aisle on a platform. A ten-and-a–half-foot blue spruce fake tree decorated with snowflakes and angels and silver ribbon that twined back and forth between the branches. A toy train set was wound around the base and a few packages assured hidden delights but were probably nothing more than empty promises. No matter. It was what was at the very top of the tree that had caught her eye.