Page 9 of Mistletoe and Mischief

Cole is with him, completing the holy trinity of nakedness. Maybe the Christmas Cherry Auctionismagical.

I smile nervously, trying to get my phone back. The guys have fun keeping it from me. And it should be fun for me too. “What about your truck? You made it through the snow last night.”

“What’s the hurry?” Cole asks.

“Oh, shit,” Landon says, realization dawning. “Did Mo fuck this up?”

I try to see if Trent’s door is still closed, but the wall of muscular flesh in front of me makes that impossible.

“Not exactly.” Trent’s voice comes from behind the wall of naked men.

They all turn.

Trent continues, “We know each other. We used to date.”

“Oh, shit,” Landon repeats. “She’s the one who broke you.”

“Just my heart. Years ago. I’m fine now.”

Trent ignores their laughter and doubt. He steps past them, holding his trashcan, and is the only one dressed. He’s even added a shirt. “Let me dump this, then I’ll drive her home.”

“Trying to get her alone?” Blake asks while guiding me awkwardly to the side. It’s not until he looks up that I notice the mistletoe.

Not exactly in a festive mood, I shake my head and pull away. His eyes sadden.

“She doesn’t do relationships. Just taking her home.” Trent shakes his head, his expression strained as he carries the full trashcan.

“I’d like that… a chance to talk to Trent. It’s been a while.”

The other three must realize this isn’t the time for jokes because they give me hugs and don’t ask about how soon we can do this again. They’d asked a few times overnight, but I’d told them I would get in touch if they impressed me.

The drive is slow as Trent navigates the snow-covered road with his plow. It’s also silent. He’s focusing. That’s what I tell myself, anyway.

He stops in front of my house and takes a deep breath. “Stay safe until the roads are clear. If you need help getting your car from the…” He winces almost imperceptibly. “Aubergine Affair, let me know.”

“So that’s it?”

“It’s what you wanted.”

His easy tone confuses me.

I need to get this off my chest. “It wasn’t personal, me not wanting to get married.”

“That kind of thing feels pretty personal, but I respect your decision.”

“I was eighteen.”

“Would your answer be any different today?”

All of the fear I experienced two years ago resurfaces. An uncomfortable silence passes before I say, “I’m finally getting my business off the ground. I still need to learn about myself and life before I settle down.”

“So how much did you learn your virginity costs?”

He’s never said anything that harsh, even when we broke up. I sit with the gut punch for a minute. “The money went to charity. And concerning your earlier comment about stringing them along… I made it clear to the guys that I’m not ready to settle down.”

“You have to know the history of the auction.”

“It can’t be a hundred percent perfect.”

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