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I don't know what Mom was thinking. I don't date. Not anymore. I don't bring women into my life, and I definitely don't bring them home.
I don't want them here. This is my space. This is my house. This is my sanctuary. This is where I like to be alone, as I’ve been for the last three years. I shouldn't have to share my space with this tiny woman with those warm brown eyes. I shouldn't have to have her here.
I shouldn’t have to feel this want for something I can’t have. I shouldn’t be forced to stand in my own home and have something so beautiful, so out of reach, dangled before me.
I don't want her here. I don't want to feel what she's making me feel.
Fuck, I'm mad.
Mom should know better than this. It's not like I can even drive her down the mountain. It wouldn't be safe. The storm is expected to last another three to five days. We get them here on the mountain. I'm prepared for them. I was prepared before Mom brought the bags upon bags of groceries.
I wonder, did she buy all that because this woman likes to bake? Will she bake for me?
No, don’t think about that.She’s not going to do anything for you. She’s not going to stay.
What am I supposed to do with her?
She isn’t going to be comfortable here with me. She already isn't comfortable with me. I saw the way she looked at me when I opened the door, horror in her eyes.
Every woman looks at me with horror. And then they look at me with pity. I don't know what's worse. I can't stand either. It makes my skin crawl. And my skin has enough problems as it is. Hell, but she shouldn't be here. I don't want her here.
“There's been a mistake,” she repeats, her voice shaking.
Yeah, there's been a fucking mistake. Huge mistake.
“Yeah.”
There's been a mistake, all right. She just doesn't know she was manipulated into making it. She doesn't know that the woman she was supposed to spend Christmas with manipulated her into spending Christmas with me. She didn't have to worry about that, though. Christmas wasn't for another two weeks. We could wait out the storm and drive her to the airport, or wherever the hell she came from.
I'll make sure she can escape me when it's safe. But it won't be safe for a few days. She’s stuck with me, stuck looking at me until then.
I’m sure I can find something to do in the office. There’s always work to be done. She won’t have to look at me if I close the door.
But I shouldn't have to. I shouldn't have to hide in my own home. I shouldn't have to hide from this delicate woman with her willowy limbs I know are willowy even though she’s wearing the big jacket that’s built more for an Arctic blizzard than a Colorado tantrum. Her warm tan skin, brown sugar eyes and molasses hair shouldn’t have me wanting to hide behind closed doors. I shouldn’t be so afraid of marring her beauty with the hideousness that is me—but I am.
Her nose is perfect and straight and somehow perky as she tips her head back, angling her chin up to me. Her mouth is full and pouty, and I feel a stirring of arousal as her eyes drag up to land on my face. I brace myself, but she’s not looking at me with horror now. Or pity.
What is she thinking?
Suddenly, I want to know her mind. I want to invade her thoughts.Her.
“How do you know Lucy?” My voice comes out rough, and her eyes widen, her lips parting.
She takes a deep breath into her lungs, her face flushing.Why is she blushing?“I met Lucy online.”
“Online?”Well, shit.
“Yeah. Online. She put out an ad, and I answered it.”
“She put out an ad,” I parrot.What the hell is going on, here?
“Yeah.” She shrugs, giving me a cute half smile that I feel a sudden and disconcerting urge to taste. “Lonely soul for lonely soul.”
Well, that’s rich. My bloody mother.
“That right?”
“Mmmhmm,” she confirms. “She doesn’t want to spend Christmas alone, and neither do I.” She laughs, but it’s nervous. “I mean, who wants to spend Christmas alone?”
