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“I’m on it.” I turn on my heel and try hard not to break into a run as I head to the front where the snacks and drinks are.
I don’t know how I know, but the man is staring at my back as I walk away from him. I swear I can feel his gaze caressing my skin, which makes my whole body shiver. My skin prickles with awareness, sending liquid heat straight to my core. Is this really happening from just one look?
Finishing up at the hot chocolate bar, I cover our drinks with lids and pick them up with trembling hands.Get it together, woman,I scold myself. I can make it another half an hour until Carson gets cranky and needs to go home.
My one-track mind circles back to the handsome stranger, showing me images of a future with him and our kids. Great. So now not only am I more turned on than I’ve ever been in my life, but I’m also mentally picking out baby names.
I heave a sigh of relief once I’m with my sister, right next to the ice-skating rink. The frigid air is refreshing on my overheated skin and feels crisp and clean as I take a deep breath.
“Gimme, gimme, gimme,” Melissa says excitedly. I laugh as I hand her the hot chocolate. We’re different in almost every way imaginable, but we both agree on the magical healing properties of sugar.
My sister is one of those people who has everything planned months in advance, down to the most meticulous of details. She doesn’t just have a plan B; she has a plan for every damn letter in the alphabet. I haven’t seen the proof, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure each contingency plan has its own binder full of notes. You know what really fucks up every single plan? A cheating bastard of a husband. She never saw it coming, and it completely wrecked her.
But I digress.Exhale negative, inhale positive,I tell myself for the second time tonight. Like I said, I’m going to need more than my simple meditation to get me through her healing process and onto the next plan.
I have no idea how exactly to help my sister in that regard. I'm more of a "take life as it comes" type of person. That mindset is absolutely terrifying for my sister. I swear she has at least three planners and five organization apps on her phone. That sort of stuff is just depressing to me.
“Indigo!” Melissa whisper-shouts. “Get your head out of the clouds for a moment. I think it’s about to start.”
I smile at her, though I’m internally wincing at her remark.Get your head out of the clouds.She didn’t mean anything by it, but those words always cut deep. My dad used to tell me that all the time. He probably still would if we talked more than our monthly phone calls.
“I’m paying attention,” I assure her. I shiver, the cool, once refreshing air growing bitter cold. Melissa shivers as well.
Under normal circumstances, she would have had a packing list prepared with all the warm clothes we’d need for the winter. However, the planning was left to me, since Melissa was and still is in the middle of a meltdown over her old life. I failed to think of little details like coats, hats, boots, and gloves. We never needed them in California, so it wasn’t even on my radar. By the time we rolled into town, our money reserves were too low to buy winter gear for all three of us. We agreed that Carson needed a coat more than we did.
The lack of funds is on me, too. I got confused when looking for places to rent. I thought I signed a lease electronically, but it was just an application. I'm not very detail-oriented and I've never had to do anything like this before. Long story short, we had to pay out the nose to stay in a little bed and breakfast for the first few days while I scrambled to find a cheap apartment and even cheaper secondhand furniture.
The plus side is that The Clause House B&B is totally adorable decked out in Christmas decor. It cost us nearly everything we had in savings, but I know my sister loved curling up by the fire and looking at the twinkling lights of the huge tree in the living room.
I wrap my arm around my sister and lean in, squishing Carson’s little body between us for added warmth. Melissa rests her head on my shoulder and sighs. A few seconds later, the lights dim around us, focusing our attention on the ice.
Three little girls dressed as sugar plum fairies make their way to the middle of the rink and perform an adorably awkward routine. They are followed by a brother and sister duo dressed as candy canes. Carson giggles at the bright, stripped costumes.
“I love Christmas,” my sister whispers with more than a little wistfulness in her voice. I hear what she’s not saying. She loves Christmas, but this is so far away from how she thought Carson would be spending his first holiday season.
“Me too,” I whisper back. “We’ve had hard Christmases before and always managed to make the best of them, right?” She nods, but I know she doesn’t believe me quite yet.
We stand in silence for a while, both of us watching the kids tumble on the ice while their parents take millions of pictures from the sidelines.
I feel him looking at me again. The stranger with mesmerizing eyes and clean-cut style. Once again, I find myself resisting the urge to look at him over my shoulder. And once again, I fail miserably. When our eyes lock, electricity travels through my body, lighting me up brighter than any Christmas tree I’ve ever seen.
CHAPTER THREE
WALKER
Idon’t even know her name, but that didn’t stop me from dreaming about her curvy little body and teal eyes all damn week. Every single morning, I wake up with a painful erection and an emptiness in my chest that I’ve never felt before.
Rationally, I know I’m not empty. I have all of my organs, even my appendix. I eat healthy, I jog, I lift weights, and I aced my last physical. But all of that means shit when there’s a gaping hole in my heart.
A car horn blasts from behind me, startling me out of my thoughts. The light must have turned green a while ago, but I was too distracted thinking about my pixie. Not that she’smine, per se. But for the first time in my life, I don’t mind the idea of having a woman in my life.
I turn left onto Tinsel Drive, heading to Christmas Medical, the private practice I co-own with Dr. Daniel Clemons. After parking my car, I jog up to the door of our little building, but something stops me in my tracks. Long black hair blows around in the early morning wind, revealing the face of the woman who’s haunted my dreams for seven damn nights.
I’m so distracted by her bright teal eyes I almost don’t notice she doesn’t have a coat. But when she shivers and wraps her arms around herself, I spring into action. What the hell is she thinking, walking around in nothing more than a sweater and jeans? It can’t be more than thirty degrees outside this morning. Where are her gloves and hat? And are those sneakers she’s wearing? This girl needs boots if she’s going to be trudging around in the snow.
The pixie still hasn't seen me yet since her face is turned down to shield her delicate skin from the cold breeze. I walk right up to her, forcing her to stop in her tracks. When she looks up at me, her teal eyes go wide with recognition and then shine brightly as she smiles. Jesus, what that does to me.
I take off my coat and hold it out for her to put on. She darts her eyes from my face to the coat and back again before turning around and letting me help her. When the tiny, gorgeous woman spins around, I zip her up and start peeling off my gloves.
