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I'm not sure what she thinks she can do to me. I'm double her size.
“Stop,” I command gently, lowering my hand.
She hesitates, that same warning in her eyes. “Why?”
“Lucy Emerson is my mother. She plotted this scheme.” I wave my hand in the space between us. “Planned for this.”
“Why?” The warning is gone from her eyes. Only confusion remains.
I pull in a deep breath and her eyes fall to my expanding chest. Red rises in her cheeks and I feel something I shouldn’t feel stir low. Arousal.
My voice is deep, husky even, when I reply, “She doesn’t want me to spend the holiday alone.” I smirk at her. “Lonely soul for a lonely soul. She gaveyoutome.”
Her mouth drops and she blinks up at me adorably. “Wh—what?”
“You heard me.”
“Th—that's madness.” She laughs. It’s nervous. It's also beautiful.
I want to hear it again.
“Yeah. It's madness. It's also fact. She brought you here for me.”
She shakes her head in denial. “I'm going to call—I'm going to call Lucy.”
I lean back against the wall and wait for her to do just that. If she needs the confirmation, she can take the confirmation from Mom. There's nothing I can do. She's here. She can't leave.
It is what it is. We'll deal.
The phone is at her ear, and I can hear it ringing. It keeps ringing long beyond when Mom normally picks up. She knows what she’s doing, leaving me to deal with this. The woman is scared, rightfully, and Mom doesn’t even have the decency to answer the damned phone.
I almost laugh. Almost. But I’m too pissed.
ChapterThree
Sadie
“No answer,” I breathe, and he smirks. It’s bitter, a little angry, and terrifying as hell.
This can't be happening.
Who does this? I mean, I know I've done some weird things, but this is beyond weird. What kind of mother makes an ad for a companion for her son?
What does she expect from me?
We talked about baking, and turkey dinner. We talked about wine nights and books we like. I mean, we talked about romance, too, but I was very clear that romance didn't exist in my life. At all.
I was clear, I haven't had a partner—any partner.
Oh my God. I told her that I'm a virgin.
No, no. She can't possibly mean to give me to her son likethat.
No, the ad was for a lonely soul to a lonely soul. She just doesn't want her son spending Christmas alone.Why is he alone?I mean, I get it. The scars are a little freaky. They're a bit much when you first meet, and you’re not expecting it. If I would have been expecting it, I would have been fine. I wouldn't have stared. I would have been cool, but they did surprise me. I feel bad about that. Because I know I angered him.
Had I been prepared I would have tried not to react in shock. Still, looking away would have been hard regardless. The man is attractive. Hot with a capital H.
With his thick dark hair, messily swept to the side and the hard jaw of a Greek God, looking away isn’t easy.
