Page 36 of Santa Baby

“Is that what’s next? You prove to your dad that you can be not only a family man but carry on your family name and your business and then go out and find yourself a wife?”

“I plan on taking out an ad in the newspaper,” he shot back.

“You’re getting rather sharp tongued, Mr. O’Leary.”

“I’ve been spending too much time with you, I think. You’re starting to rub off on me.” His boyish smile burrowed through my heart, igniting something I’d been trying to ignore since we met.

“Nobody reads the paper anymore. Unless, of course, you’re hoping to shack up with a rich elderly woman.” I smirked at him as he took a sip of wine and started heating up the pan, his back to me. I leaned on the counter, resting my chin in the palm of my hand. “You don’t even have social media. I checked. I couldn’t find you.”

“Never have.”

“And your Wikipedia page isn’t all that impressive, either. I couldn’t find anything juicy about past relationships or scandals.”

“I have a squeaky-clean reputation.”

“And,” I continued, tapping my fingers on the counter. “If you’re going to put out an ad for a wife, you should probably take a new portrait.”

“For what?”

“For when she does the same kind of digging I did when Colin set us up. I couldn’t find a single picture of you outside of the one on your company’s website and you had to have been twenty-five when it was taken.”

He looked at me over his shoulder. “Fine. Take my picture.”

I straightened up. “Really?”

“Yeah, why not? You’re not wrong. My profile on our website hasn’t been updated in years.”

I gaped at him, my mouth opening and closing like a fish. For whatever reason the idea of taking Mason’s picture felt incredibly intimate. Having to capture him, capture that smile that I felt like only I could see, was almost too much.

“I don’t think so.”

The sizzling of the steaks was the only sound for a moment before he turned around and leaned on the opposite side of the island. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to take your picture,” I said.

“I’d pay you to do it.”

“Well, of course. My services aren’t free.” I tried to say the words with my usual sarcasm but it fell flat.

He scanned my face, his eyes going a darker blue than before. “Why not, Fia?”

“I’ve just been taking pictures of influencers and the occasional couple for years now. It’s been a while since I shot a portrait session.”

“Consider it practice, then. Tomorrow, at the distillery. Rex can pick you up.”

I gritted my teeth but continued to hold his gaze.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

My mind roved over the possibility of holding up my camera and finding all of his already perfect angles. I was terrified of what I’d see on the screen when I edited them. Would he have the same heated look in his eyes? The look that so far I thought might only be for me, or would it be confirmation that what I felt was one sided?

“Nothing,” I said, swallowing hard. “You’re burning the steaks.”

“Oh, shit.” He turned away before he could see the shattered look behind my eyes.

I needed to get a grip. Just because we’d spent most of the last forty-eight hours together didn’t mean there was anything happening between us. Just because he’d finally told me his real reason for needing a fake girlfriend, even though to me it seemed really silly, didn’t mean that we were growing closer or trusting each other more.

Just because I was sitting in his apartment drinking the best wine I’d ever tasted while he cooked me dinner didn’t mean he felt the same way I felt.