White-Hot Holiday(16)

The thought rocked him back. If there had been one constant in his life, it was his career. He loved his job, not for the bucketloads of money it earned him, but because he enjoyed the challenge, the stimulus, the creativity. His career was something he controlled, something that had filled his life and rewarded him for years, but now suddenly it wasn’t the be-all and end-all of his existence. He still loved his job, but he didn’t want it to dominate his life anymore.

He glanced at Luke, envying him his peace. But nirvana hadn’t fallen into Luke’s lap. His friend had had to struggle and overcome his personal demons before he’d found happiness with Tyler and Chloe.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to depress you,” Luke said, watching him with shrewd eyes.

Aaron forced a casual grin. “You didn’t. Just gave me food for thought.”

Luke’s focus switched to Chloe as the girl, clutching a cricket bat, called to Luke for help. “Sorry, mate, the moppet needs me.”

Aaron waved him off. As he finished his glass of water, a shadow fell over him, and the faint trill of his nerves told him who it was without having to turn around.

Naomi set a plate on the table and took the seat Luke had vacated. As her arm brushed briefly against his, warmth rolled over him. He smiled at her, glad she was here. He didn’t want to brood over his life. Far easier and more pleasant to enjoy Naomi’s company.

She nudged the plate toward him, her smile tentative. “I made these for you.”

He examined the pile of ocher-colored cubes sprinkled with brown sugar. “What are they?”

“Pumpkin marshmallows. I Googled the recipe last night and made them this morning.” She pushed her hands under her legs and rocked back and forth as a smile hovered on her lips. “You didn’t notice me making them, did you? I wanted to surprise you.”

He stared at her. “You did all that? Just because I mentioned my mom made pumpkin marshmallows every Christmas?” He didn’t know what to say. All he knew was that he wanted to pull her onto his lap and kiss her. Instead, he chose a cube, bit into it, and slowly chewed.

“Well? Is it any good?” Naomi studied him with an eager air. “I’m sure I can’t compete with your mother’s, but I hope it’s all right.”

His mom wouldn’t have recognized this lump of pulp as a pumpkin marshmallow, but he swallowed manfully and smacked his lips. “It’s delicious. Fantastic.”

“Fantastic? Oh, now I know you’re humoring me.”

“No, really, they are fantastic. Not as great as my mom’s, of course, but fantastic, nevertheless.” To prove it, he took another pumpkin marshmallow and stuffed it into his mouth.

They were fantastic, he thought. Stringy and mushy, sure, but awesome because Naomi had made them especially for him.

“And those kangaroo cufflinks? They’re fantastic, too. I’ll definitely be wearing them to the office.”

Her cheeks went pink. “Goodo. Glad you like them.”

She picked up one of the jokes from the Christmas crackers and read out, “Why did the chewing gum cross the road?” She paused before continuing, “Because it was stuck to the chicken!” Groaning with laughter, she chose another slip of paper. “Where do frogs go if they have bad eyesight? To the hoptometrist!”

Aaron gulped down his mouthful of pumpkin marshmallow. “Are all Christmas cracker jokes that lame?”

“Of course. The lamer the better.”

He reached for a third pumpkin marshmallow. “Read me another one.”

“Okay then.” As she unfurled another roll of paper, she picked up a pumpkin marshmallow for herself and bit into it. “Who hides in the bakery at Christmas—oh boy, these things weren’t so claggy this morning. They taste like glue.” She wrinkled her nose at her half-eaten square, then shook her head at him. “You don’t have to force them down just to be polite.”

“I honestly like them,” he said around his mouthful. In a strange way, Naomi’s pumpkin marshmallows were growing on him. He waved at her. “Go on. Tell me who hides in the bakery at Christmas.”

She rolled her eyes. “A mince spy.”

For some reason Aaron found that hilarious. His shoulders shook with laughter, and when she chuckled too, he snickered even louder. He might be stuck thousands of miles away from home on Christmas Day, marooned in sweltering, unfamiliar surroundings, but listening to Naomi’s lame jokes and eating her less-than-perfect pumpkin marshmallows was—paradoxically—the best experience of his life.

He couldn’t stop staring at her. Messy, dark hair crammed under a pink paper hat, a red-and-white, candy-striped sundress revealing tanned arms and legs, snowflake earrings dangling from her earlobes, smooth skin gleaming from the heat. She’d never appeared more wonderful to him. As his eyes ate her up, he felt himself expanding, filling up with some new, astonishing emotion he’d never experienced before.

He stretched a hand to her just as she reached for another joke, and when their fingers met, she drew in a quick intake of breath, darting a glance at him. He threaded his fingers through hers, the action coming naturally to him. Naomi breathed in deep again, her hand like a humming bird in his. But she didn’t pull away. A glow lit her face for a second, transfixing him. Tiny details seared into his brain—the flecks of silver in her irises, the broiling heat on the back of his neck, the background shrieks of children playing, the infinitesimal twitch of the pulse in her wrist. A silent, electric communication connected them. Then her eyes became shuttered, her glow faded, and she gently withdrew her hand. The moment was gone.

It felt as if the sun had disappeared behind a cloud. Coldness seeped through him, despite the torrid heat baking his skin. Why had she drawn back? Had she seen something in his expression and misinterpreted it?

“Naomi, I” He trailed off. What exactly did he want to say to her? Naomi, I want to hold your hand. Naomi, I really like you. No, those sentiments were lamer than the Christmas cracker jokes. What did he honestly feel about her?

Before he could think any further, she shook her head, rising abruptly from the table just as her mother and aunts emerged from the house bearing vast platters of dessert.

“Pavlova!” Naomi’s mother, Helen, called out, and as people gathered around the table, Naomi disappeared into the house.

Heart thumping, Aaron got to his feet and went after her, weaving around people, his determination climbing. Inside the family room, he paused for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the relative gloom before someone clapped him on the shoulder from behind.

“I need to talk with you,” Luke said in his ear before leading him to his study. The room was on the opposite side of the house, and as soon as Luke shut the door behind them, the noise of the party cut out.

Aaron took in the earnest set of his friend’s face. “What’s up?”

Luke rubbed his jaw, his expression uncomfortable as if he had an unwelcome task to tackle. “I want to know what’s going on between you and Naomi.” His tone was calm, but couldn’t quite disguise a note of apprehension.

Aaron’s gut clenched. He’d pursued Naomi into the house instinctively, his thoughts chaotic except for the determination not let her slip away. Now Luke was confronting him with a question he didn’t know the answer to. Not yet.

He glanced around the tidy study, not taking much in, then met Luke’s steely gaze. Aaron exhaled a long breath. “I wish I knew,” he said. “Naomi is” Incredible, amazing, he wanted to say, but no adjective seemed adequate.

“My niece.” Luke glared at him. “And I warned you not to try anything with her.”

Aaron shook his head. “Nothing you imagine is going on.”

“Nothing?”

Aaron frowned. “Well, there’s something, but not what you think.”

“I know there’s something, mate. Out on the deck you two were getting pretty cozy. I saw the way Naomi looked at you, and I didn’t like it.” Luke scowled fiercely.

“What look? How was she looking at me?”

“I don’t know.” Luke flung his hand up in an impatient gesture. “Like you were the best thing since sliced bread.”

Aaron’s heart honest to goodness flipped. He’d never thought it possible, but his heart was racing because a girl thought he was cute. What else had Luke seen in Naomi’s face? Was it plain for everyone to see? But he couldn’t ask these questions because Luke was still glaring at him, hands clenched at his sides.

“Well?” Luke barked out. “Why are you messing with her when you know what she’s been through and you’re going to be gone any day now?”

The crude reality of the situation made Aaron’s stomach roll. He held his hands up. “I’m not ‘messing’ with her.”

“So you haven’t kissed her?”

Aaron hesitated, and his friend’s eyes narrowed. “It’s not what you think,” Aaron said. “You think I’m just treating this like my usual casual hookups. But it’s not. Naomi is different. I like her a lot. I enjoy spending time with her.” He wiped the back of his hand across the moisture beading his upper lip. “This past week has been crazy, man. I’ve done things I never thought I would and enjoyed them, too. All because of Naomi.” He paused and swallowed as his milling thoughts coalesced into one conclusion. “She’s special.”