Love In Moments (Love Distilled #2) - Scarlett Cole Page 0,5

second burger. He looked like a child who’d gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Olivia laughed. “No, not you. Help yourself. I’m going to get these platters done. I’ll figure it out. It just might be a little off schedule and not look as pretty, and hopefully nobody notices.”

Anders studied her for a moment, as if weighing up the situation, then removed the cufflinks of his shirt. Slowly, he walked toward her and reached for her. More specifically, he reached for the jacket, running his hands down the lapel, allowing his fingers to drag along her skin. “Pockets,” he said, before winking at her as he deposited his cufflinks.

“What are you doing?” she asked as he rolled up his shirt sleeves.

“It appears I’m going to spend Christmas making sliders. With you, Olivia.” His eyes followed the trail of the V-neck of her dress, scorching her body almost as much as his fingers did.

Her breasts were larger than they’d been. The meds she’d been prescribed had taken the edge off her depression but had fueled her eating and killed her desire for exercise, a painful combination. She’d been trying hard to grapple with both but had limited success. The scale had just kept ticking upward.

But watching Anders’s gaze burned the edges off her worries.

“It’s your Christmas?”

Anders nodded. “Yes, we celebrate on Christmas Eve. In Sweden.”

“Then you should be out there celebrating.”

“I’d rather be in here.”

Olivia looked at the pile of half-prepared food. Damn it, if he wanted to help, he could. “Merry Christmas, Anders.” She reached for a spare apron and playfully threw it at him, trying not to notice the size of his hands as he caught it and put it on.

“God Jul, Olivia,” he said, his voice husky, as he reached for a platter.

She moved to the other side of the stainless steel counter to give herself a little more breathing room, because, sure, making sliders with the hottest man she’d ever come across was going to be a breeze.

Two hours later, Anders figured he’d make himself useful and wipe down the bar. The distillery was quiet, all the guests were gone, and he could finally breathe. Occasionally he’d look up to see Olivia dance her way around the room, turning off all the twinkling lights. There was a fluidity to her motion. At some point, she’d picked a rose from an abandoned table arrangement and perched it behind her ear.

It helped that she was too cute for words with that delicate chin, pert nose, and hooded eyes beneath strong brows. But her mouth, fuck, there was nothing cute about that. Plump lips that rested in the sexiest fucking pout he’d ever seen.

He’d found himself watching her lips as she told him how to stack the sliders on the trays or asked him to retrieve something from the large walk-in refrigerator. The idea of them wrapped around his cock while he gripped her lush brown hair made him glad they were no longer under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen, where she’d be able to see his dick tenting his pants.

“Everyone is gone,” Anders said, as she walked toward him. “You can relax.”

Olivia pressed her head to the bar and let out a sigh. “I needed to get it all cleared away because the cleaning crew aren’t in until the day after Christmas. Thank you so much for helping me out. It would have been a disaster otherwise.”

“Det var så lite . . .sorry, it was nothing.” Anders stepped out from behind the bar and pulled out the stools next to where she stood. “Sorry. I slip back into Swedish when I’m tired. Sit with me for a minute.”

She raised her head, and he could see that his initial impression of her had been wrong. She wasn’t just pretty, she was beautiful. Soft hazel eyes. Cheekbones that any number of supermodels would die for.

And then she smiled, and it almost knocked him on his ass.

“I’m exhausted, but too wired to sleep. It’s been a long year, Anders. The hardest one I’ve ever had,” she said, and the weight of her words hit him as true.

“Want to talk about it?”

Olivia shook her head. “Not tonight. Want a nightcap? One for the road? As a thank you.”

He’d planned to stick to one drink, but if it meant he got to spend a little more time with Olivia, he’d break his rule. “Sure. What do you suggest?”

Stepping behind the bar, she reached for a bottle of what