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Ashton glances over at me and I shrug. I guess that’s all the encouragement she needs because she leaves a message.
“Um, yeah, hi. This is Ashton Jones and I’m renting a cabin up on Spruce Ridge, er—” Her eyes fly to my face and she covers the mouthpiece of the cell. “What’s the address?”
“3232 Snowfall Drive.”
“3232 Snowfall Drive. I have a little bit of a situation and I’ve locked myself out of the rental. If you could please give me a call back ASAP, I’d appreciate it. My number’s—” She pauses again, glancing over at me. This time she hits the mute button. “I can’t give them my number. My phone’s locked in the cabin. What’s yours?”
“970-341-6169.”
She holds up a finger, hits unmute, then motions for me to repeat. “970-341-6169. Thanks!” She disconnects and thrusts the phone back at me, hitting me square in the chest.
“Thanks. Hopefully they’ll call back soon.”
“Yeah, hopefully.” I set the cell on the counter, watch as Ashton shifts from foot to foot, goosebumps covering her bare arms.
“You want a sweatshirt or something while you wait? You must be cold.”
She waves her hand through the air breezily. “No, I wouldn’t want to put you out. I’m fine.”
“You’re clearly cold.” I point at her skin. “Hang on.”
I trot back upstairs, only semi-dismayed that my night’s been thrown off by this woman. She’s more attractive than I gave her credit for back at the general store. And even though she’s a bit flighty and not at all my type, she seems— different. In an intriguing way.
Not that I’m interested.
I rifle through my drawers, coming up with a gray Spruce Ridgesweatshirt and a pair of dancing reindeer pj pants. They’re the smallest bottoms I have, a Christmas gift last year from my nieces and nephews.
Bundling them together, I head back downstairs. Ashton perches on a barstool, swinging her bare legs back and forth through the air. A stray lock of her auburn hair has tumbled from her bun, and she’s winding it between her fingers. Despite my best efforts, I can’t keep from noticing the long, graceful column of her neck or the soft swells of her breasts just peeking out from the white cotton.
“Here.” I shove the clothes at her.
“Nice pants.” She snickers at the dancing reindeer and I frown.
“You don’t want them? I’ll take them back.” I reach for the pants and she recoils, clutching them against her chest.
“I never said I didn’t want them. I’m just surprised is all. You don’t seem like the dancing-reindeer-pajama-pants type.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I feel like I should be insulted by that.”
“Only if dancing reindeer are your jam. I don’t know.” The corners of her mouth tip up into a smile, making my dick stir for the first time in a while.
“I hate to concede anything, but you are correct. They were a gift from my niece and nephew. The smallest pants I own.”
“Excellent.” She hops down from the stool. “I happen to love dancing reindeer. Do you have a bathroom down here?” Her head swivels around, checking out the space.
“First door on your right.”
She skips off with the spare clothes and I contemplate what the hell I’m doing right now. Because it kind of feels like flirting and I don’t have time for that. Or a relationship. Or any of the problems that come with the dating territory.
I should help Ashton get the rental code and then send her on her merry way.
So why am I fantasizing about stripping those reindeer pj pants off her toned legs with my teeth?
CHAPTER5
ASHTON
How in theactual hell did I get here? And what the freak am I doing right now?
