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“So…” Jay closed the truck’s hood and leaned against it as he tilted his head. “I can call you that over dinner sometime? Since you specifiednot at work, I assume you’re okay with it otherwise.”
“Jay,” I growled, stepping closer.
His pupils blew wide and dark and he sucked in a deep breath at my close proximity.
“We’re not together in any way,” I said, enunciating every word. “Got it?”
Jay’s gaze roamed over my face for nearly a full, agonizing minute of silence. He was so close that I could feel the heat radiating off him in the chilly room. I clenched my teeth, willing myself to fight the urge to sink into his embrace and burrow into his warm, solid chest.
“Keep telling yourself that, Simmons,” he said. “You might start to believe it one day. Until then, you’ll need to convince yourself a little harder before I get the hint that you’re not interested anymore.”
Stifling a noise of frustration, I turned on my heel and walked away.
***
Thank God it was Friday. Tired, confused, and completely at my wit’s end about Jay, I was so relieved to head home and get my Christmas Eve started. After some time away from Jay, I was sure I would come up with a better solution to finally get the message through his thick skull that we could not be together.
When I reached my duplex, the door next to mine opened. My elderly neighbor, Mrs. Steinheim emerged with a plate of sugar cookies in the shape of snowflakes and Santa hats.
“There you are, Rosie, dear,” she said. “I didn’t hear you come home last night and I was worried with all that snow we had. But I figured you just stayed at the firehouse, nice and warm.”
I felt a tattletale blush begin to heat my cheeks. I’d been so careful this morning to change my clothes in my office, refresh my makeup, and pull my hair back, presenting my professional side again instead of my party side so no one at the station would suspect I’d stayed at Jay’s apartment overnight. I hadn’t counted on Mrs. Steinheim keeping track of my comings and goings.
“That’s so kind of you to worry about me, Mrs. Steinheim. Do you have any plans for Christmas Eve?”
She waved me off with a little laugh.
“Oh, no, sweetie, I’m too old to do much besides read for a bit and fall asleep in my armchair. I did make some cookies though and I was wondering if you’d like some. I can put a pot of tea on if you’d like a bit of warm chamomile or peppermint.”
I accepted two cookies from Mrs. Steinheim’s plate with a grateful smile.
“That sounds wonderful. I’d appreciate the company, too.”
Mrs. Steinheim beamed and welcomed me inside. As I kicked off my shoes at the door and hung up my coat, I was grateful for the distraction. Mrs. Steinheim rambled as she trundled around the kitchen making tea and it gave me an excuse to push Jay to the back of my mind. She had no children or surviving family members of her own so I often spent a few hours visiting with her.
Since my own meager family was scattered around the globe and didn’t gather for any kind of holiday celebration, Mrs. Steinheim became like a grandmother to me and it was comforting to be in her cozy home, with the glow of the Christmas tree in the corner and the smell of sugar cookies lingering in the air.
By the time I left Mrs. Steinheim’s place, I felt warm and cozy, my belly full of enough cookies for a small army. I promised to visit in the morning for a modest Christmas breakfast and she kissed my cheek.
“You’re such a kind young lady, Rosie, spending your Christmas with a lonely old woman like me instead of a handsome gentleman.”
“I don’t have any handsome gentlemen, Mrs. Steinheim. You don’t have to worry about that.”
She hummed and regarded me for a moment with a shrewd look before patting my shoulder.
“If you say so, dear. Have a good night and Merry Christmas Eve.”
Just like that, Jay Lawson flooded into my thoughts again. I groaned as I trudged home and flopped into bed, pulling the pillow over my head. I should have known sleeping with Jay would make him get under my skin even deeper.
***
Shrill beeping dragged me from the cottony depths of sleep. I rubbed my eyes, grumbling at the assault on my eardrums.
“What is that noise?” I grumbled into my pillow.
A split second later, the sharp, acrid smell of smoke stung my nose and lungs. The clingy fog of sleep vanished.
Heat. Light. Fire alarm.
