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Authors: Piper Trace
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Tonight?” Her voice came out sounding squeaky.
“I don’t see what else I can do. Look, I’m sorry,” he
continued quickly, “I don’t have any other options.”
“No,” she said, too loudly, “no, you can’t stay here. Stay
in your truck.” She jutted her chin toward it.
“Kip,” he said, furrowing his brow, leveling his gaze at
her, “I can’t stay in my truck all night. It’s too cold. And besides, the only
reason I came out here was to help you. Now you won’t let me stay on your
couch?”
“What about your friend?” He wasn’t going to guilt her into
letting him spend the night. “Can’t he come and meet you at the tree? You can
leave your truck there and get it tomorrow.”
He looked exasperated. “You want me to drag my friend away
from his family at this hour on Christmas Eve? He wouldn’t even make it—he
doesn’t have snow tires. You’d ask me to do that rather than just let me stay
here?” He gestured toward her couch and raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
“You’ve got the room and you’re here by yourself.”
She just glared at him, not answering.
He dropped his arms, deflated, and stuck his hands in his
pockets. Tilting his head toward her, he gave her a soft smile—clearly trying a
new tactic. “It’s Christmas Eve, Kip. Be nice.”
All this talk about being nice at Christmas . It was
really getting on her nerves. But he was right, of course. She could not believe the situation she was in.
She sighed and held the door open. “Fine,” she said flatly,
“but Santa owes me something big tonight.” She realized her possible
innuendo and was glad to have her back to Dylan as she shut the door, her
cheeks blushing. Maybe I should lay off the wine… When she turned around
she realized Dylan had a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Her eyes widened.
“You have an overnight bag? Why did you bring an overnight
bag with you to deliver my wood? You figured a woman out here alone might
appreciate your company for the night? Is that how you work—one night here and
there when you can get it?” She crossed her arms and frowned at him, sure that
was the case.
Looking at his bag, he dumped it off his shoulder onto the
floor, busying himself with getting unbundled from his winter gear. “You have
some exciting ideas of what goes on out here in the mountains,” he said.
Chuckling deeply, he shook his head and sat on the stairs next to the door to
take off his boots. The stairs that led up to Kip’s bed.
I’m not going to think about that.
He continued in his infuriatingly good-natured tone. “I
never thought of that.” He smiled up at her and she stalked back to the
kitchen. When his boots were off and his gear was hung on the hooks next to the
stairs, he followed her.
“Kip, hey,” he said, maneuvering himself to catch her eye,
“a’course not. My job can be unpredictable. I get caught out on the road
sometimes. It’s happened enough that now I keep an overnight bag in my truck,
just in case.”
“Oh,” was all she said, a little embarrassed at her quick
judgment. He leaned against the counter of the L-shaped kitchen next to the
stove where she was stirring chili. She couldn’t help it—she snuck a peek at
his butt pressed against the edge of the counter, making sure not to get caught
this time. Man, he looked nice in those jeans.
“That smells delicious. I missed dinner to come out here,
remember?” he hinted. She had much more chili in the pot than she could eat.
Sighing, she figured she was stuck with him for the night. She might as well
get over her displeasure about the situation. She was not going to let
him ruin her Christmas. She’d just go to bed early and he’d be gone in the
morning.
She took out a second bowl. “Of course you can have some. I
was just getting ready to eat. Sorry I don’t have any beer or soda, only
water.”
“I’ll take some of that wine, if that’s okay,” he said
nodding toward her bottle of zinfandel. “I
“I don’t see what else I can do. Look, I’m sorry,” he
continued quickly, “I don’t have any other options.”
“No,” she said, too loudly, “no, you can’t stay here. Stay
in your truck.” She jutted her chin toward it.
“Kip,” he said, furrowing his brow, leveling his gaze at
her, “I can’t stay in my truck all night. It’s too cold. And besides, the only
reason I came out here was to help you. Now you won’t let me stay on your
couch?”
“What about your friend?” He wasn’t going to guilt her into
letting him spend the night. “Can’t he come and meet you at the tree? You can
leave your truck there and get it tomorrow.”
He looked exasperated. “You want me to drag my friend away
from his family at this hour on Christmas Eve? He wouldn’t even make it—he
doesn’t have snow tires. You’d ask me to do that rather than just let me stay
here?” He gestured toward her couch and raised his eyebrows in disbelief.
“You’ve got the room and you’re here by yourself.”
She just glared at him, not answering.
He dropped his arms, deflated, and stuck his hands in his
pockets. Tilting his head toward her, he gave her a soft smile—clearly trying a
new tactic. “It’s Christmas Eve, Kip. Be nice.”
All this talk about being nice at Christmas . It was
really getting on her nerves. But he was right, of course. She could not believe the situation she was in.
She sighed and held the door open. “Fine,” she said flatly,
“but Santa owes me something big tonight.” She realized her possible
innuendo and was glad to have her back to Dylan as she shut the door, her
cheeks blushing. Maybe I should lay off the wine… When she turned around
she realized Dylan had a duffle bag slung over his shoulder. Her eyes widened.
“You have an overnight bag? Why did you bring an overnight
bag with you to deliver my wood? You figured a woman out here alone might
appreciate your company for the night? Is that how you work—one night here and
there when you can get it?” She crossed her arms and frowned at him, sure that
was the case.
Looking at his bag, he dumped it off his shoulder onto the
floor, busying himself with getting unbundled from his winter gear. “You have
some exciting ideas of what goes on out here in the mountains,” he said.
Chuckling deeply, he shook his head and sat on the stairs next to the door to
take off his boots. The stairs that led up to Kip’s bed.
I’m not going to think about that.
He continued in his infuriatingly good-natured tone. “I
never thought of that.” He smiled up at her and she stalked back to the
kitchen. When his boots were off and his gear was hung on the hooks next to the
stairs, he followed her.
“Kip, hey,” he said, maneuvering himself to catch her eye,
“a’course not. My job can be unpredictable. I get caught out on the road
sometimes. It’s happened enough that now I keep an overnight bag in my truck,
just in case.”
“Oh,” was all she said, a little embarrassed at her quick
judgment. He leaned against the counter of the L-shaped kitchen next to the
stove where she was stirring chili. She couldn’t help it—she snuck a peek at
his butt pressed against the edge of the counter, making sure not to get caught
this time. Man, he looked nice in those jeans.
“That smells delicious. I missed dinner to come out here,
remember?” he hinted. She had much more chili in the pot than she could eat.
Sighing, she figured she was stuck with him for the night. She might as well
get over her displeasure about the situation. She was not going to let
him ruin her Christmas. She’d just go to bed early and he’d be gone in the
morning.
She took out a second bowl. “Of course you can have some. I
was just getting ready to eat. Sorry I don’t have any beer or soda, only
water.”
“I’ll take some of that wine, if that’s okay,” he said
nodding toward her bottle of zinfandel. “I
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