“Can’t say I blame you for making sure our paths crossed,” he continued in thatI’m hot and we both know itdrawl.
Crumbled candy canes and threadbare stockings! He wasn’t going to go away, not without torturing her first. Face tightly pinched, she turned, hoping he accurately read how much she wished he’d disappear. Maybethe abdominal snowmancould gobble him up so she could get her lunch in peace and forget he existed. Her gaze collided with broad shoulders that had her gulping. There was a toughness about him that said anything trying to gobble him up would be in for a run for their money and would lose.
“I recall mentioning not to bother saying hello if our paths did cross again.”
Disappointment hit that she hadn’t imagined how good-looking he was. Or how tall. He towered over her five foot four inches. And if there was ever a competition for an abdominal snowman, he’d win. Scolding herself for noticing how his T-shirt clung to his muscles, she upped her glare game. Maybe he’d take the hint and leave.
“Yep.” His lips twitched, almost as if he knew he made her insides jitter like a shaken snow globe. “That’s why I didn’t say hello.”
Isabelle looked upward at Lou’s tiled ceiling, counted to six, and winced when she couldn’t think of the next number to save her life. Not good for someone with an accounting degree.
“Oops, sorry. I didn’t realize that I should have been more specific. I meant for you not to say anything at all,” she clarified.
“Not say anything and let all your effort in following me be wasted?Tsk. Tsk.” His eyes twinkled brighter than Lou’s shiny Christmas tree lights. “I’d hate to disappoint you that way.”
“Seeing you again is disappointing.”Exhilarating, her inner voice corrected.
Why, oh, why, did being near him make breathing difficult? It was as if he sucked up all the oxygen and what air was left made her head spin.
“Disappointing?” He gave an exaggerated fake sigh. “I thought you were happy to see me.”
“Pfft. Wrong again.” Annoyed was what she was.
At him because he’d occupied all her thoughts since their windy encounter. But even more so, at herself, because excitement surged at the way merriment danced in his eyes when they looked in hers. Approval shone in their hazel depths, as if he enjoyed their verbal sparring and that she had no qualms in standing up to him. Not only did he not mind; he seemed to appreciate that she wasn’t falling at his boots.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you didn’t like me.” He sounded as if he didn’t believe anyone capable of such a feat. His ego alone could power Santa’s sleigh, no reindeer needed.
“Ahh, you finally got something right.” She kept her eyes narrowed, possibly to block out some of his maleness.
Seriously, Santa should package up his pheromones and spread the overabundance on Christmas morning. He had more than enough to spare.
“Given long enough, it was bound to happen.” Grinning, he added, “Name’s Zach, by the way. Zach Dawson.”
Zach. Strong and to the point, like him.
“That matters to me how?” Harsh, but she wasn’t budging an inch to his swagger and smiles. Her self-preservation skills had been finely honed years ago and he’d already dinged them enough for one day.
“You know you were wondering.” His teasing was doubly worse in that he was right.
She was curious as to who he was and why he was in Pine Hill. Perhaps he consulted with one of the factories in their industrial park or had been hired to do something in preparation for the On-the-Square Christmas Festival in a few weeks. They always had a few out-of-town vendors. If he could package up his smile, he’d have a best seller.
“What your name is doesn’t matter to me. I couldn’t care less if—”
“Hey, Blondie?” he interrupted, causing her to pause. “You’re protesting too much.”
Irritated that he was right about that, too, she tapped her boot against the floor. “Don’t call me that.”
“What would you prefer for me to call you?” The corner of his mouth curved upward, digging a dimple into his cheek that had probably been adorable when he’d been young.It’s adorable now,the annoying voice in her head pointed out. Adorable seemed the wrong adjective to use when describing someone so… so… masculine.
“That’s the point. I don’t want you to call me,” she managed.
The gold flecks in his eyes flickered as if warm flames, inviting her to relax and cozy up. “Fair enough. If that’s what you want, I won’t call.”
“Good. Don’t.” Had she really just crossed her arms?
Someone watching would think she was throwing a temper tantrum. Not even as a child had she done that. Just ask her mother. Darlene would be the first to say that Isabelle had always been responsible, a rule follower, and never caused a bit of trouble.
Zach’s irritating, knowing smile made Isabelle want to cause so much trouble Santa would permanently strike her name off the nice list.
