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“What do you think? Look good?”
Did he have a crystal ball to see into her mind or what? “Oh, yeah.”
“Now, that’s the enthusiasm I’ve wanted to see all evening. To think, if you’d had your car you’d have found some excuse to say no.”
Trinity closed her eyes and winced. He’d meant the tree, not his rear end. Duh. Of course he hadn’t meant his rear end.
“I did say no,” she reminded him. The man was persuasive. She’d better be careful or he’d have her agreeing to dress up in a red suit and climb down a chimney proclaiming, ho, ho, ho and a merry Christmas to all.
“You have to admit this is more fun than going home alone.” His forehead wrinkled as he inspected the tree and stretched to straighten a branch, giving her another great view of his rear end. “You think I need to take a little more off the top? I want this tree to look amazing when we’re done.”
What she thought was that no amount of trimming was going to make the tree come anywhere near to how amazing his bottom was. Someone should stick him at the top of the tree and her views on Christmas might brighten more than a little. Definitely, she could get into unwrapping his package.
Urgh. What was wrong with her? Perhaps Riley had placed a spell on her beneath the mistletoe because she’d really like him to climb down that stepladder, take her in his arms and kiss her until her lungs were so deprived of oxygen she had to pull away just to keep from losing consciousness.
Then she wanted him to kiss her some more. More. More. More.
Crazy. She wanted to be kissed right now. And not because of some silly song coming over his surround-sound system about a kid seeing momma kissing Santa either. Riley’s belly could never be com
pared to a bowl full of jelly and the dusky five o’clock shadow gracing the strong lines of his jaw were sexy, not fluffy white tufts that would tickle her face.
“Are you hanging mistletoe?” Oops. Had she really just asked that out loud? Who needed the cozy fire that he must have also turned on to keep the room temperature comfortable? Her face had to have just sped up global warming with a single embarrassing moment.
He glanced down at her, his grin positively lethal. “Would you like me to hang mistletoe, princess?”
How did any good girl in her right mind answer that?
“Um, no, I was just wondering if you were going to, not suggesting you do so, snowflake. I mean, if you were going to that would be okay, but if not…” Okay, time to zip her lips because she was rambling and just fanning the flames.
The dimple in his left cheek dug deeper. “You know, I’m a traditional kind of guy so I do have mistletoe. It’s in that box over by the sofa if you want to dig it out.”
Just to have an excuse to move away from his gaze, she went to the plastic storage container and searched through the labeled boxes inside. When she lifted the lid off the properly labeled one she wrinkled her nose. “You insist on a live tree but have plastic mistletoe?”
“I know. A travesty.” He gave a faux devastated shrug. “We should go shopping tomorrow evening to buy me the real deal.”
“I wasn’t hinting for an invitation.”
“I didn’t think you were.”
“I have better things to do.”
“Than to enjoy the spirit of Christmas?” He gave her a horrified look. “What could be better than that?”
“Just about anything and everything.”
“Don’t you like Christmas?” Obviously he found the possibility that someone might not like Christmas so absurd he didn’t wait for an answer, just climbed down the ladder to survey his handiwork.
“It’s not my favorite holiday,” she muttered under her breath, glad that at least for the moment she didn’t have to stare up at his amazing butt.
Her answer caught his attention and he glanced at her. “Which holiday is your favorite, then?”
Not that she’d ever discussed her aversion to Christmas with anyone, but no one had ever asked her which holiday was her favorite. She thought for a moment.
“New Year’s Day.” She blinked at the man standing right in front of her.
“Why’s that? You like making resolutions no one ever keeps?”
“And people think I’m cynical?” Smiling, she shook her head. “No.”
