Grew up just me and my brothers. Every time I saw a pretty girl, my tongue just . . . knotted up. It’s hard for me to talk. Everything comes out wrong.”
“You seem to be doing okay right now,” she breathed, aware of his nearness. For some reason, she was picturing him shirtless again, like a pervert. She really needed to stop focusing on his chest. It was just . . . it was such a nice chest. She’d never been one to get bowled over by the physical form, or so she’d thought. But Caleb’s chest? Caleb’s chest had changed her mind on that. “It’s a social anxiety thing, then?”
“I guess.”
Amy wasn’t good at making speeches in front of crowds, so she understood that. There was no reasoning behind a phobia of that kind, just that it happened. “You could do what I do when I have to give a presentation—picture everyone naked.”
“If I picture you naked, that’s not gonna help me talk,” he said with a low chuckle that warmed her down to her toes.
She’d opened her mouth to speak, when she heard the creak of the door opening in the other room. Amy sucked in a breath and grabbed for Caleb’s hands to quiet him. He was standing near her, she realized, and she felt him lean against the wall right next to her, as if there wasn’t an entire coat closet full of space.
She remained still, waiting for Greg to show up, for him to fling the closet door open and see them hiding like a pair of kids. And why was she hiding, really? Other than she just didn’t want a confrontation with him?
As if their minds were on the same wavelength, Caleb leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I know I already asked, but are you sure we have to hide from him?”
“I don’t want to talk to him, and I don’t want you to fight him,” she whispered back, breathless. Then she added, “Don’t change the subject. I can’t believe you really like me.”
“I washed your dog,” he pointed out in a low voice.
She smothered a laugh behind her fingers. He had washed her dog, and poor Donner had been filthy filthy. “I thought you were being nice.”
“You’re sleeping in my bed.”
Amy gasped. “That’s your bed?”
“Shhh,” he whispered, his fingers brushing over her mouth.
They both froze at that small touch. She didn’t know if he’d meant to touch her like that, or if it was an accident, but it had sent a reaction through her body that made her senses tingle like mad. “That’s your bed?” she whispered again, even softer. “You brought me your bed?”
“Yours was ruined,” he murmured, and Amy felt his breath tickle her ear. “Didn’t like the thought of you sleeping on that love seat.”
“That’s . . . very nice of you.”
“And I’m fixing your car. You think I’m that much of a Good Samaritan?”
She loved the amusement in his voice. It made her all warm inside, and it made her toes curl. Caleb with a touch of amusement in his tone did all kinds of things to her body. “So I should fling myself into your arms out of gratitude for the mattress?”
“That wasn’t why I did it.”
Her breath caught in her throat. He was definitely leaning in, and she could feel his breath hot against her ear. Her skin prickled with awareness, her body pulsing. “Then why did you do it?”
“Same reason I volunteered to be Santa, I suppose.”
“I still haven’t figured out why you did that, either.”
A long pause. Then she got her answer. “Because . . . it made you smile.”
Oh god. Why was that the sexiest thing she’d ever heard? Had anyone ever been so generous? She was stunned by just how much he’d done over the last week, and how clueless she’d been. Amy was kicking herself for even spending five minutes focusing on Greg when this knight in shining armor of a cowboy was right under her nose.
Silently under her nose, of course, but still there.
Harnessing just a hint of daring, Amy turned and faced him—at least, she thought she was. She turned in the direction of his breath and hoped she was facing him. The skirts of her costume were pushing against him, and she suspected if she leaned forward, she’d press herself against his chest. It was all very intimate . . . and she was eating it up. “I have to say,” she whispered, “I much prefer the