A Hamilton Family Christmas - Donna Kauffman Page 0,8
under his arm like they weighed nothing, when Emma knew damn well the canvas bag alone felt like it weighed three tons when she’d loaded it into the car. “Remind me to call you when I need a Pyrenees or a Newfie loaded into the back of this thing.”
He just laughed. “In the front?”
“Dogs go in the back.”
“No, I mean the rest of your stuff.”
“You’re carrying pretty much my entire wardrobe, which probably says everything about me you never needed to know. Essentials are in the red bag.”
“Essentials?” His confusion cleared. “Oh, you mean all the girl gear. Potions, lotions, magic makeup.”
“Uh, sure.” Let him think that. It was far more flattering than the truth. And she wasn’t about to tell him that her idea of essentials had more to do with reading material, her glasses, and, yes, her retainer, than eyeliner and manicure supplies. “Some snacks I packed are in the front. I’ll get those. If you’re sure you don’t mind.” She nodded toward the load he was carrying. She still had the satchels to carry in. Again.
“This? No, not at all.” He poked along behind her, like a nosy puppy, when she moved around to the passenger-side door. “What kind of snacks?”
She grinned as she turned and opened the plastic supermarket bag. “Dental bones and liver treats. Your pick. Or, maybe you’re more a millet seed guy.”
He looked in the bag, and back at her, pity clear on his face. “You need remedial road trip lessons. Where are the chips, sodas, and cookies?”
She’d felt his hands on her, and though his clothes hung a bit loosely on his frame, there was doubtful a spare ounce of fat to be found on the man. It wasn’t fair that he could look like that and talk about cookies. “Right where they need to be,” she said. “Out of my undisciplined reach.”
He lifted his free hand up, and for a split second, she thought he was going to touch her face, but he just snagged the strap of one of the satchels, which doubled as her laptop bag. “You need help,” he said, as he straightened, his face having come far too close to hers. He smelled good. Really good. So unfair. What had she and her perfectly innocent hormones done to deserve this kind of torture, anyway?
“Well,” she said, sliding out from between him and the car and stepping back out into the open area of the garage. “I guess I’m lucky you’re here, then. I really appreciate you lugging that stuff in for me.” She should take at least the laptop off his hands, but decided retreat was the better part of saving herself from doing something really embarrassing, and all but fled back to the kitchen.
Trevor entered a minute later. “You’re sure this is it?”
“Yep,” she said, busy putting on the dogs’ jackets and leads again for their last trip out for the night.
“Could you do me a favor, then?”
She looked up warily.
“I was going to pull my rental into the garage to keep it out of the storm. You’ll need to set the alarm code for it anyway. I don’t know the current one. Anyway, if you’ll go out there and open the doors so I can pull in, then we can set it for the night.”
Emma didn’t want to think about spending the night with Trevor Hamilton. Well, not with Trevor Hamilton. But under the same roof. Even one as big as this one. “Uh, sure. But, can it wait until I get back in? They’re all ready to go and—”
“No, no problem. I’ll just pop this stuff in your room. Where are you set up?”
It was silly, because, in the big scheme of things, who cared? But she didn’t want him in her bedroom. If she knew where it happened to be. Which she didn’t. “I’m—actually, can you just wait for me to get back in? Don’t worry about my stuff. I’ll take my own bags up.” Or over. Or wherever they were supposed to go in this rambling monstrosity of a mountaintop mansion.
She glanced back as she led the dogs through the French doors into the Florida room in time to see him lift those broad shoulders and shrug her bags gently to the floor, then wander over to the massive fridge instead.
Sighing in relief, for the moment, anyway, Emma turned and opened the door to the backyard, only to be met by a wall of stinging sleet and pellets of ice. She started