All I Want For Christmas Is You - Penelope Ward Page 0,79
the sweeping driveway. It’s so green and there are mountains and trees as far as the eye can see. “This is such a beautiful place.”
Jack smiles as he looks around as if trying to see it through my eyes. “It is.”
“So…you said you bought this property?” I ask.
“Aha, this is all mine.”
I look around, “What’s all yours?”
“All this land, everything you can see.”
I frown. “How much land is that?”
“Close to five hundred acres.”
“Wow.” My eyes widen in surprise. “Impressive.”
He smiles as he drives over the rough terrain. “The road is rough due to all the rain,” he says.
I nod as I think. “Do you think you would be able to drop me off at a hotel?”
His eyes flick to me. “What for?”
“Well,” I pause. “I’m here until next Wednesday, that’s nearly a week.”
“You’re staying with me,” he snaps.
“But…”
“Holly,” he cuts me off as he reaches over and picks up my hand and kisses my fingertips. “You are staying with me. End of story.”
I glance down at myself. “Well, we have to go shopping then.”
“What for?”
“Clothes,” I shrug. “Jack…. I’m wearing your sweatpants, your t-shirt and your huge flip flops.”
His eyes flick over to me. “And?”
“Well, there is nothing in my suitcase I can wear really. I only packed work clothes for two days.” I gesture to myself. “And I look like an old bag in yours.”
“Not to me.” He turns the corner. “Sexy as fuck in my eyes.”
I smirk and stare out the front windshield. I’ve never been called as sexy as fuck before. It has a certain ring to it, though.
We pick up my things from the car and I call the car rental company to come and collect the car and then we drive into town. There are about five shops and what looks like a few restaurants and a bar, Christmas decorations adorn the windows.
Jack parks the car and I peer out the window. It feels like I am in another world here. It’s so different to my beloved New York. Where are all the people?
“Okay.” Jack gets out of the truck and comes around to my side and opens the door.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
“You wanted to go shopping.””Here?”
He rolls his eyes. “Yes. Here.”
I look up and down the street. “There are no clothes shops here.”
“Yes, there are, you’re blind woman.” He goes to lift me out of the car.
“I’ve got it,” I whisper. “My ankle is fine.” I limp over to the gutter.
He gives me a smile and takes my hand. “Come on, hop a long.”
He leads me into a store at the end of the street. A bell sounds loudly over the door to notify someone of our arrival.
I look around and see there are groceries, alcohol and fruit. “I need clothes,” I whisper.
“Up in the back corner.”
“What?” I stare at him as my brain misfires. “Here?”
He smirks, amused by my horror. “Yes, Holly.”
I limp over to the aisle and peer down toward the back wall. I can see baby supplies and pet food. I make my way down the aisle as I wonder what the hell kind of shop is this?
“Jack,” I hear a woman’s voice call.
“Oh, hi Michelle,” Jack’s deep voice answers.
I keep walking toward the back corner. Oh, I see them now. Three tiny stands of women’s clothes.
Fuck…I think his clothes actually are better.
“It’s good to see you,” the girl’s voice says. “I’ve missed you at the bar lately.”
Huh?
I frown and peer through the shelf to see who he’s talking to. It’s a woman who looks to be in her mid-twenties. Blonde and pretty, she’s wearing tight black jeans and an oversized sweater.
“I’ve been busy,” he mutters.
“Doing what?”
“My girlfriend is here from interstate.”
“Girlfriend,” she gasps. “Since when?”
What the fuck? He’s getting picked up at the store now… ugh, I bet the women around here would all be in love with him.
I hobble to the clothes rack and pick up a shirt as I eavesdrop. Oh God, it’s hideous. I put it back on the hanger in a rush. I pick up a pair of pants and hold them up. What kind of fucking pants are these? I put them back on the hanger. He’ll never touch me again in this crap.
“Who is this girlfriend. Anyone I know?” she asks.
“Nope,” he replies curtly, and I can tell he has no patience with her. I get the feeling that Jack gets hit on a lot.