All I Want For Christmas Is You - Vi Keeland Page 0,68
Suddenly uncomfortable, I wiggle up and pull my skirt down.
That’s a weird thing to say, sort of passive aggressive sexiness.
I stare out the window at the rain as it pours down hard. Maybe sleeping in my car was the safer option after all?
I stay silent and his eyes flick over to me. “What?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I shrug, my lips pressed so tight together that they are beginning to hurt.
“Well?” he prompts me again.
Oh my God, stop talking, you idiot.
“Jack.”
His eyes glance over to me. “Yes, Haley.”
“First of all, it’s Holly. Get it right.”
A trace of a smile crosses his face as if amused.
“I’ve had a really, really, really bad day that started at 4 am this morning when I missed my flight. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to use your couch for the night …to sleep. If that’s not okay, or if something else is rattling around in that head of yours, please drive me back to my car, because I’m not in the mood to have to justify my wardrobe choices to anyone, least of all you.” I cross my arms in front of me. “And for the record……I am a professional and would never even contemplate having sex on my desk.” I tilt my chin to the sky in defiance. “I don’t know what happens here in Alaska, but that is not how corporate New York operates.”
He rolls his lips as if trying to hide a smile. “Got it.”
We arrive at the top of the hill and a log cabin comes into view through the pouring rain. It’s lit up from the headlights. The house is made completely of timber. It’s small, with a veranda wrapping around the entire outside. I can see smoke coming out of a double chimney on the roof.
“This is it,” he says as he climbs out of the truck and slams the door shut behind him.
He comes around to my side and opens the door. Without asking for permission, he lifts me out of the car like a bride. The rain begins to hit my face hard once more. “I can walk, I’m fine.”
“Be quiet, Haley.”
“Holly,” I snap.
He breaks into a broad smile. “Whatever the fuck your name is, shut up woman.”
My mouth falls open in horror and he carries me to the front stairs and under the cover of the front roof. He puts me down and I step back from him, surprised that anyone is that strong. He opens the front door. “It’s a bit of a mess, I wasn’t expecting company,” he says.
I peer in, it’s all timber and what looks like to be one big room. I can see a small kitchen and living room with two couches. A dog lies sprawled out asleep on a rug in front of an open fire. I glance back to him just to see him take his raincoat off and hang it on a hook next to the door. He’s tall, huge actually. He must be 6 ft 4, and for the first time I see his face. Dark brown hair that has a bit of a curl to it, a chiselled jaw, with big brown eyes. He’s handsome, in a caveman kind of way. Ha, who knew?
“You just going to stand there dripping wet?” he asks as he begins to undo his flannel shirt.
Damn it, in all the commotion, I didn’t grab my suitcase. Now what am I supposed to change into? My face falls in horror as I remember more of my misdemeanours. Oh shit, my laptop is still in the car. Ugh, this is the day from hell.
“You’re dripping everywhere,” he says as he peels his shirt off over his shoulders and hangs it on the hook.
“Well,” I go to answer him as my eyes drop down to his large broad chest and his muscular physic. Looks like something you would see at a strip show.
Well, fuck.
He kicks his boots off and undoes the button on his jeans. He raises his eyebrow as if waiting for an intelligent reply.
Um……. I got nothing.
He slides the zipper down on his jeans. “Don’t just take your clothes off in front of me,” I scoff.
He rolls his eyes and slides his wet jeans down his legs. He’s wearing blue boxer shorts underneath and I snap my gaze away immediately. Okay, this is getting into weird territory. Hot Alaskan mountain man territory.
“In all the commotion, I left my suitcase in the car,” I say.