Page 2 of Accidentally Under Your Tree

The anxiety of someonenew…that was a bit much. I wiped my clammy hands on my pant leg.

Sure, my ex and I had broken up almost ten months before, and I'd emotionally checked out of the relationship long before it ended. And apparently, so had he.

But talk to a stranger? No, thank you.

Even if Shay pissed me right off, she kinda had a point. Not because of the man sitting next to me, but because of the career I was trying to build. Management consulting wasn't a perfect match for my social-anxiety-ridden ass. But I was good at it. And all the socializing aside, I really liked it. I was also undercharging my clients—desperate times, desperate measures. Ten and a half months into owning my firm, and I'd just completed my first referral job. Progress.

I was staying an extra night in the city before heading home. Home, to my parents' house. It was bound to be crazy for the next week leading into Christmas, with my mom's natural enthusiasm and my sister bringing a new man home.

I missed having my quiet apartment, filled with my favorite orange and cinnamon scented candles and knit blanket. It sucked living in the same bedroom I once imagined marrying JC from *NSYNC in, but it was free.

Thanks, Mom and Dad.

Again, desperate times.

I chased an ice cube around my empty glass with the thin plastic straw. When the bartender asked if I'd like another, I forced a polite smile and shook my head.

I was a little buzzed, but I wasn't feeling bad. It was probably the right time to go up to my room.

Wind whipped wet snow against the window.

My knees were a stiff as I stood. My butt numbed from the bar stool. It took me a second to balance.

That was when the power went out.

The whir of machines silenced. The lights turned off all at once. The storm thrashed against the building.

My hand shot out and grabbed the first solid object I could find in the nearly pitch black. The solid object reached back and held my waist.

There were a few clatter notes from the piano before it fell silent. The dining area filled with the screams and gasps of people, surprised by the sudden reach of the storm. It'd snapped its fingers and broken our bubble, reminding us that our security was only as thick as the walls.

The clean, comforting smell of soap filled my nose.

Over the beating of my heart and the nervous murmurs around me, a gentle voice rumbled up the skin of my neck. It cast goosebumps down my arms and seeped into my sternum—a warm whispered, "I've got you."

two

Will

Seven nights before Christmas

I waited for her grip to loosen on my shoulder. I'd let go as soon as she did. Her profile lit in the dimness; the very tips of her eyelashes captured the light like fairy dust. But I couldn't see her eyes, just the soft parting of her lips. The startled rise and fall of her chest. She was close enough to identify the citrus scent I'd caught traces of all night.

Her ribs expanded into my palm.

She tightened her grip, and mine flexed in response—sinking into the soft flesh of her waist.

"The backup lights will kick on," I said. They should have turned on already. "It'll be okay."

She nodded in jerky movements. "Right."

Turning her neck, she faced me. The light drawing new lines—the curve of her cheek, wisps of hair that had escaped her ponytail.

Emergency lights illuminated at the bottom of every exit sign. I could make out her wide eyes were some shade of brown. It was only fair that I note her eyes, when I'd already taken in the way her thighs filled out her professional looking pants… And the way she filled out the cardigan sweater thing she was wearing. When she'd glared back at me a few minutes before, it'd almost been a relief. Rose would kill me if I were caught flirting with some stranger at a hotel bar—it was a nice hotel, but just the phrase was seedy enough.

Not that people usually recognized me outside of a home improvement store.

She and I had an agreement. It wouldn't be long before we could go back to normal.

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