Me: …
Adam: A mince spy!
I giggle at his lame joke and roll my eyes. He’s definitely something else. Before I can reply, another text comes through.
Adam: What do snowmen have for breakfast?
Me: Go on…
Adam: Snowflakes!
These are terrible, but it doesn’t stop my body from shaking with laughter, nor the megawatt smile stretching across my face.
Adam: Why did Santa quit smoking?
Me: Bad breath?
Adam: It was bad for his elf.
Rolling my eyes, I wonder how many more of these Mr. Serious has up his sleeve.
Adam: Why couldn’t the skeleton go to the Christmas party?
Me: Umm…
Adam: He had no body to go with.
Me: Oh God! Stop (laughy face)
Adam: What do you get when you cross a snowman with a vampire?
Me: Frostbite!!!!! Come on! You’re better than that.
Adam: Want me to pull out the big guns?
Me: I’d be offended if you didn’t…
Adam: You asked for it…
Adam: Why does Santa always come through the chimney? He knows better than to try the back door…
Throwing my head back, I let out a loud laugh at that one. I didn’t expect Mr. Serious to pull out the dirty jokes. There really is more to this man than meets the eye.
Adam: Why was the snowman smiling? He could see the snowblower coming down the street.
Giggling, I wish him a good night and turn the lamp off. Lying down, I stare at the ceiling and think about the man in the room across the hall.
The wooden countertops are caked in flour, with the tiled floor getting a light dusting for good measure. The soft sound of Justin Bieber’s “Mistletoe” is playing in the background, and I have my ingredients littering the side. Rolling the pastry out along the countertop, I sprinkle some more flour to make sure it doesn’t stick.
Baking is my way of dealing with stress. This whole snowed in with a hot stranger thing is starting to lose its novelty, and I’m really starting to worry that I’ll have to spend my first Christmas away from my brother. Shaking aside those thoughts, I get back to the task at hand.
Seb always jokes that he can’t believe I wasn’t a fat kid with the amount of baking and eating I did growing up. I hope Adam likes baked goods! Otherwise Seb’s joke may become a reality by the time I leave. Turning the oven on to preheat, I listen to Kate telling me about the upcoming event she’s working on for a gaming launch.
“I just don’t really get what he’s asking. What the hell is bitcoin?” she sighs in frustration down the phone.
“It’s a form of cyber currency,” I hear Adam say over my shoulder. I didn’t hear him come down; he’s been upstairs dealing with some work thing.
“Huh?” Kate asks from the other end of the phone, clearly just as confused as I am.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Bitcoin is a form of cyber currency. You know when you play online games and you can make purchases? It’s kind of like that. It’s becoming an increasingly popular investment at the moment,” he continues, leaning against the kitchen counter across from me. I shouldn’t watch the way his biceps flex as they support his weight, nor the way his shirt rides up slightly and gives me a view of his tanned skin and the faint trail of hair that disappears beneath the top of jeans. I find myself subconsciously licking my lips, and I know Adam notices by the smirk crossing his handsome face.
“… right?” Kate says, breaking me out of my stupor.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I ask, much to Adam’s amusement.
“Never mind. I’m going to give the manager a call and see what he thinks. I’ll speak to you later, Mills.”
“Okay, love you.”
“Love you too,” she says before hanging up. I turn my attention back to my creations, grabbing my cookie cutters and cutting out the dough.
“Are you making more cookies?” he asks, moving slightly closer. He smells like sandalwood and coffee, and it has me inhaling deep to take it all in.
“Yep. Santa hats and candy canes.” Motioning to the cutouts I’ve done already, my heart picks up its pace as Adam shuffles between his feet with a sudden sharp inhale. His eyes darken to a deep sapphire as they focus on my lips, an audible swallow dragging my own gaze down to his mouth as I lick my lips without thinking. I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me in this way. It makes butterflies clog my throat. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I ramble, “Seb and I always make Christmas cookies. Well, I make them, he’s chief taster. Baking is the ultimate destresser.”
“What’s stressing you out?” He leans against the counter as he awaits my response.
Shaking my head with a small smile, I say, “Nothing. Just panicking over nothing.”
His soft hand reaches for mine, and I gasp at the warmth of his skin on mine. His touch sets me on fire, and instantly the need to get closer to him is overwhelming. Lifting my gaze to meet his, I struggle to find any coherent thought as he comes closer.
“Have I told you I’m a good listener yet?”
With a sigh, I put down the cutters and turn to him, freeing my hand in the process and immediately mourning the loss of contact.
“Seb and I have spent the holidays together since I can remember. I know it sounds lame, but I don’t want this year to be any different. Our parents are skiing again, and I can’t bear the thought of him being alone when he’s always been there for me.” Tears fill my eyes, and I blink them away in embarrassment. Pull yourself together, Amelia! “Besides, we have traditions that can’t be broken. Ever.”
“You sound like my sister,” Adam chuckles fondly before he adds, “Obviously the weather is out of my hands, but this is England, not the Arctic. It’ll let up soon, right?”
“I hope so,” I tell him even though a part of me twists at the prospect of not seeing him again. He’s so different to any man I’ve ever met or dated, as though whatever mold he was formed in was broken.
“I’m sure you’ll be back with your brother soon, but in the meantime, want a hand from yours truly?” he offers, squeezing my shoulder in reassurance and causing goose bumps to rise across my skin. Tilting my head to meet his gaze, I’m momentarily stunned by the way his eyes dart between mine and my lips. With his hand inching along my shoulder, I can’t control the wave of heat that runs through me, making me shiver. When he reaches the column of my neck, his thumb gently caresses over my skin.
Breathe, Amelia! I tell myself as I try to swallow the butterflies clogging my throat while his thumb traces the movement. If he can feel the way my heart is trying to beat out of my chest, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his gaze finds mine again, and I see the same want reflected back at me. The want that is currently twisting my insides and turning my legs to jelly the longer Adam touches me. Feeling his fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of my neck, I hold my breath, leaning up toward him with my gaze never leaving his lips.
The beeping of the oven has me pulling back in shock, breaking my trance.
“Shoot, I better get these in.” I focus back on the loaded cookie sheet, trying to get my breathing under control as his fingers trace round to my back and down my spine until his hand flattens at the top of my ass. “Once they’re ready, you can help me frost them if you like?” I find myself asking, not wanting him to leave or to lose the heat of his touch. The moment may be lost, but I’m not ready to let him go just yet.