Underneath My Christmas Tree Page 4

  “So a girl you slept with couldn’t handle a one-night stand, and that was your life-changing experience? That put you off casual sex?” Elizabeth sounded skeptical.

  I shrugged. “Maybe it was just the timing. You know, maybe I was finally mature enough for the lesson to penetrate my thick skull.”

  She nodded slowly. “When you say you were ‘a little too into girls’, you mean lots of meaningless sex, right? That means you were a real man-whore?”

  “If you want to call it that, yes, I guess so.”

  “How many? A different girl every weekend?” She leaned forward, and I caught a whiff of her hair. It smelled like sunshine and oranges.

  “Ah, sometimes. It wasn’t always sex. Sometimes just heavy making out.” But mostly it was sex. I kept that to myself.

  “Did you ever have a girlfriend? Like back in high school or whatever?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. I started pretty young, and I kept moving.”

  “And no one in your family ever said anything to you? Your mom was okay with this?”

  My throat tightened. “My mom didn’t have much to say about anything in my life. She was too busy fucking up her own.” Yeah, there was some bitterness there.

  “Oh. So you weren’t close.”

  “Not exactly. If you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about that.” I pushed my empty plate away.

  “Okay.” She must’ve sensed something in my tone that told her I was serious about this line. “So let’s go back to your man-whoring. Did you always take them back to your place? Or did you go to theirs? Or did you do it in the dark hallway of some sleazy club?”

  I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Look, I’ve told you more than I wanted to. Can we change the subject? Let’s talk about you for a little while. Put Elizabeth under the microscope.”

  “Okay, okay.” She spread her hands between us. “Ask me anything. I’m an open book.”

  I was more comfortable with this line of conversation. “How did you end up in Florida?”

  “Oh, that’s a sad story.” She leaned her head on her hand, giving me wide eyes. “I went to college in Virginia, and then I went on to law school, mostly because I couldn’t think of anything else I wanted to do. I figured it bought me another three years to figure it out. I got to be friends with another student, and we really hit it off. She used to come down here to visit her grandparents and loved Florida, so she talked me into moving down here with her and opening a practice together.”

  “So far, so good. Doesn’t sound that sad.”

  “Oh, just wait.” She held up a finger. “We got down here, rented an office, set up our practice. Our first day being open, we went to a bar to celebrate. Darcy—that’s my friend, my law partner—danced with a guy she met that night. And then she went home with him. And three weeks later, she told me she was marrying him. He was in the Air Force, stationed in Ohio, and six weeks after we hung up our shingle, Darcy moved up there.”

  “Holy shit. She left you with everything down here?”

  “She did. We’d gone into the practice fifty-fifty, so I had to buy her out. I’m just about finished paying her back. It’s what kept me down here—I couldn’t afford to move until I got out from under that debt.”

  “Do you want to move?” I looked around at the beach, the beautiful house, all the people who surrounded us. Looked like she had it pretty good. I wasn’t sure I’d want to leave.

  “I don’t know. Some days I think I don’t. I’ve made some friends now, and I like the weather in January and February a lot better than I like snow and ice. But I miss the change of seasons, and it kind of feels like I’m stagnating here. Going nowhere. You know what I mean?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I do. Same way I felt in Georgia. That’s another reason I moved to Michigan.”

  “Because you needed to start over and become a reformed man-whore instead of a practicing one?” The teasing light in her eyes made me smile.

  “That’s it exactly.” I turned on the bench, lifting my plate and reaching for hers. “I think I heard someone say there’s pie inside. Can I bring you a piece?”

  Elizabeth winked at me. “Sure. If you’re not going to indulge my need for mindless sex, you might as well make yourself useful. Make it the chocolate pecan, okay? I happen to know Emmy made that, and she’s got the gift. Plus, they say chocolate’s a good substitute for sex. You know, when you’re not getting any. Like me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Listen, if you’re going to keep talking about sex, it’s going to be hard to be your friend. A friend would be supportive and encouraging, not tempting and undermining.”

  She threw up her hands. “Fine. Just bring me the chocolate. I’ll try to keep the sexy talk to a minimum.”

  Chapter Three

  December 5th

  Elizabeth

  “I understand, Mr. Greig. I know it’s Christmas time, but I sent your first invoice in March. Your case settled last January. You haven’t paid anything, and I have expenses, too.”

  A blast of angry male voice burst out of the receiver, and I held it away from my ear, cringing. This was the part of my job I most hated. It was also the top reason I was almost definitely going to hire a secretary early next year, no matter how much paying that salary cut into my bottom line.

  “Yes, I know you didn’t plan to be sued. But you were, and you retained my services to represent you. Oddly enough, the electric company doesn’t seem to understand when I tell them I can’t pay my bill because you didn’t budget enough money to cover my fees.”

  There was a loud click on the other side of the phone, and I sighed as I hung up. At this point, I had two options: I could write off his unpaid bill, or I could farm it out to a collection agency. Neither was appealing to me, but I really couldn’t afford to let my invoices slide.

  “Tough day?”

  I looked up to the doorway of my office. Trent leaned against the wall, his worn baseball cap in one hand.

  “Unfortunately, it was a typical day.” I stretched my back, twisting in my chair. “I hate making collection calls, so I leave it for the end of the afternoon. And then I go home all mad and frustrated. Sometimes I’m forced to drink multiple glasses of wine.”

  Trent smirked. “I feel the same way, but with me it’s usually beers. Or shots of whiskey.”

  “I’d be with you there. I’m an equal opportunity imbiber.” I glanced at the clock. “Are you leaving?” The Christmas tree lot stayed open until nine o’clock during the week, and Trent worked just about every night.

  “I was supposed to work, but Uncle Nolan found out that they’re having a big Christmas light ceremony tonight on Main Street of Crystal Cove, so I’m heading down there to man a booth. I have to hand out flyers advertising the tree lot. Oh, and I’m giving away candy canes, too.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  “I’d rather be here selling trees, but Uncle Nolan doesn’t want to go, and he doesn’t trust Joe or Andy to handle it. So I get the honor.” He tapped one finger against his thigh. “You wouldn’t want to go with me, would you?”

  “Me?” I wrinkled my nose. “You want to take Scrooge into the heart of Christmas central?” I’d been candid with Trent about my feelings toward Christmas from the day he’d offered to bring me a tree for my office, free of charge. He teased me about my anti-holiday stance, but he never pushed me to change.

  Trent blew out a sigh. “You’re not Scrooge. And I don’t feel like sitting there by myself. As my one and only friend in the state of Florida, I’m pretty sure you’re required to go with me.”

  I stood up and leaned against my desk. “Hmmm. Maybe it’s not a bad idea. I mean, who knows? I might meet someone who’d be willing to help me end my sex fast.”

  “Nice.” Trent scowled. “Do you really think I want to be part of you picking up dudes?”

  I stuck out my tongue at him. “If I were picking up chicks, you’d be all over that. And you’re not interested in me, so why shouldn’t you help me find someon
e who is?”

  He stared me down for a solid minute and then shook his head. “If you think . . . never mind. I’m heading down there in about twenty minutes, if you want to meet me by my truck.”

  Turning, he stomped out through the foyer, and I heard the door close a second later. Shoulders slumping, I closed my eyes and dropped my chin to my chest. Over the last two weeks, I’d forged a surprising friendship with Trent Wagoner. He was more than I’d originally pegged him to be; he made me laugh, and our conversations tended to go deeper than I would have expected. I’d talked him into going to the movies with me, and I’d cooked dinner for him twice, on his rare evenings off.

  And while he never gave me any indication that he was interested in anything other than friendship, I had to admit to myself that spending time with the man without jumping his bones was getting harder and harder. When he smiled at something I’d said, I wanted to take his face in my hands and cover his lips with mine. When I saw him lifting a bundle of trees, muscles flexed, I wanted to take off his shirt and run my hands over those pecs. And don’t even get me started on that tight ass, showcased in his jeans. Yum. It’d been featured prominently in more than one of my dreams.

  But I respected what he’d told me on Thanksgiving. He was making an honest attempt to be a better man, and even though my raging libido said otherwise, I couldn’t get in the way of that.

  At least that was what I told myself. But when I walked out into the parking lot and saw Trent leaning against the side of his truck, his feet in their heavy boots crossed at the ankle, hands jammed into the front pockets of his worn jeans and his ball cap keeping his eyes in shadow, my breath caught and my chest tightened. I couldn’t see his face, but somehow I knew he was watching me as I made my way across the asphalt. My heart beat a little faster, and I slowed my pace, letting my hips sway just a tad.

  He didn’t move until I reached the truck, and then a smile curved his lips as he pushed away from the vehicle. “You all set for some Christmas magic?”

  I held back the snarky answer that was on the tip of my tongue. “You know it. Hey, do we have time to stop at my house real fast, so I can change? I can’t walk too far in these heels and this skirt.”

  Trent flickered a glance down my body and nodded. “Sure.” He opened the passenger door and stepped back. “Climb in.”

  I’d been in his truck since that first time, and I’d learned to slide over toward the middle and avoid the door, as he’d warned me. I’d just fastened my seat belt when Trent swung into the driver’s seat, started her up and backed out of the space.

  “I thought we’d grab something to eat in town, is that okay?”

  “Sure. I’m starving. I bet Jude’ll be open later, with all the people coming into town. I’d kill for a Ripper burger.”

  The small apartment I rented was only about ten minutes from the office. Trent pulled up in front of my door and hit the parking brake, but he didn’t turn off the engine.

  “I’ll just wait out here.”

  I unlatched my seat belt. “Are you sure? Why don’t you come in and have something to drink? I promise, I won’t molest you.”

  He shot me a withering look. “I’m not afraid of that. I just want to make sure we get down there in time to eat, and if I go inside with you, you’ll dawdle.”

  I slid out of the seat and put my hands on my hips. “Dawdle? Me?” I sent him a saucy smile. “And just for that, if you stay out here, I’m going to take my good old sweet time. And I’m from Tennessee, I know how to do that.”

  With a huff, he pulled the keys from the ignition and climbed out. Slamming shut the door, he came around and followed me up the sidewalk to my stoop. “There. Are you happy?”

  I batted my eyes sweetly. “I’m not unhappy.”

  Once inside, Trent flopped down on what he called my lady couch, a narrow antique fainting sofa. I’d bought it when I first moved down here at an estate sale because it reminded me of something my grandmother used to have in her sitting room.

  “This is the most uncomfortable piece of furniture I’ve ever seen,” he complained.

  “Then sit on the floor.” I dropped my purse onto the small dining room table and kicked off my heels.

  “Hey, you still don’t have any Christmas decorations up.”

  I flipped through a few envelopes from the day’s mail. “Nope. We’ve been over this, Trent. I don’t do Christmas. And even if I did care about it, I don’t have time to put up a lot of junk that only I’d see.”

  “Still . . . you don’t want a tree? I could hook you up.”

  I shook my head. “I’m trying to ignore the season, dude. Hard to do that with a big ol’ evergreen shedding needles in my living room.”

  He didn’t respond, but I noticed the frown between his eyes as I headed into the bedroom to change.

  “Get yourself a beer or whatever out of the fridge.” I called the words over my shoulder.

  “Nah, I’m good. Need to stay clear-headed.”

  I wriggled out of my skirt and tossed it into the laundry basket and then tugged down the Lycra no-line underwear that the clingy material of the skirt required. “You mean you need a clear head to hand out flyers? Really?” I slipped on fresh cotton boy shorts and bent over to dig for jeans in my drawer, jumping up and down to pull them into place.

  “No, I need it so I can handle you.” His voice sounded closer than it should have, and before I could cover myself with the blue V-neck I’d taken from my closet, he was standing in the doorway.

  I stood there in my jeans and my bra, frozen. Trent didn’t move either, and I wondered if he’d gone into shock. His mouth opened, and then he wheeled around.

  “Sorry.” The word was full of embarrassment and something else I couldn’t pinpoint. “I thought you’d be changing in your closet or whatever.”

  “No big deal.” I slid the shirt on. “It’s not like I was naked. And it’s not like I have anything you haven’t seen before, right?”

  “Yep.” Still, he didn’t turn around.

  “Hey, I’m decent now. Just let me grab some shoes, but you can come in.”

  He moved mechanically and stood just in the doorway. “Have you ever been to this Christmas lighting thing before?”

  “Uh, no. I’ve only been here for two other Christmases.” I stepped into a pair of flats. “And as you know, I don’t go in for a lot of the holiday . . . stuff.”

  “Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “You ready then?”

  “Sure.” I grabbed a sweater from the hook behind my door. “Let’s go.”

  ~~~***~~~

  The main street of Crystal Cove was decorated to the hilt and filled with people. Trent grunted as he maneuvered the truck around crowds. “Where the hell am I supposed to park?”

  “If we go down to the Tide, Jude’ll have some open spots. And then we’ll be right there to eat, too.”

  He didn’t answer as he drove to the end of the street and found a place to park. The Riptide was busy, but we managed to score two stools at the bar and order burgers. Trent was uncharacteristically quiet as we ate.

  “Are you really that unhappy about having to hand out ads tonight?” I dragged a fry through ketchup and stuck it into my mouth.

  “Nah, it’s no big deal.” He shrugged.

  “Then what’s up? You’ve been sulky since we left my house.”

  “Just tired, I guess.” He pushed back the glass of sweet tea and signaled to Jude’s son Joseph who was working the bar tonight. “Changed my mind. I’ll have a beer after all.”

  Once we’d finished, Trent retrieved the flyers from his truck, and we made our way up the street. Logan had set aside a table specifically for the Christmas tree business at the curb in front of the bed and breakfast he owned. Like the other vendor booths, it was decorated with fake greenery and a festive table cover. Trent groaned when he saw it.

  “I’ve got to sit here all night? It looks like Christmas puked all over this table.”

  I fo
lded my arms over my chest. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. I’ll stay with you. We’ll hand out candy canes. And look, there’s even a Santa hat for you to wear.”

  Trent got a deer-in-the-headlights look. “No way. That’s the line right there.”

  “And you call me a Scrooge?”

  “No, you call you a Scrooge.”

  “C’mon, Wagoner, get into the spirit of things.” I stood on tip-toe and tried to pull the hat onto his head as he ducked away and grabbed it out of my hands.

  “How about you get into the spirit, Hudson?” He snaked one long muscled arm around me before I could get away, holding me against his body as he managed to fit the hat onto the top of my head. I struggled to get away, but he only held me tighter.

  Suddenly, I didn’t mind so much. My body became aware on every level that it was pressed up against a hard male, and my skin tingled. My breasts were smashed into Trent’s ribcage, making me wonder if he could feel the way my heart was pounding as I looked up into his face.

  Something changed in his eyes. The hat was much too big for me, and it slipped down over my forehead, but Trent caught it, tugging it back up. The touch of his fingers on my face was gentle; it almost felt as though he was tracing a line over my forehead. His mouth opened a little, and I swallowed hard as my tongue darted out of its own accord to sweep over my own lips. For the space of two heartbeats, I was sure Trent was going to kiss me.

  But the moment passed. His eyes shuttered, and he pulled the hat down farther, so that it covered my eyes and nose. I was blinded as he released me and stepped back.

  “There you go. Now you look just like Mrs. Claus.”

  I tore off the hat and threw it at him. “Nice job. Now my hair’s a mess.” I ran my hands over the top of my head.