Page 7 of A Very Daddy Christmas

“More like… we’restealingsome of his clients,” Riggs adds.

“St. James is a property developer. How are you stealing his clients?” I ask.

Sebastian glances my way again. “He also has a share in UB Dynamic, a rival marketing corporation. Haute Parkour was unhappy with their results, so we poached them. We’re currently looking to get three more UB clients that are unhappy with what was delivered on board by spring.”

“You’re not fans of St. James either, eh?” I question, somewhat amused. I can’t hide the bitterness in my voice, though. “Sorry, it’s just… he’s not what he portrays himself to be, the type of person people are led to believe he is.”

“We suspected as much,” Sebastian says. “But what’s your deal with him?”

I take a deep breath. “He’s my landlord. Mine and my sister’s. He owns the building our bakery is in, and my sister and I have the apartments upstairs. Or, I should say, had. The whole building is under a lease.”

“Had?”

“It really doesn’t matter. I just can’t stand the guy. He ruins lives with too much ease. I think he actually enjoys it. And if it falls around the Christmas holidays, even better. For a church-going man, I’m guessing he’s got a penthouse suite reserved in Hell.”

Sebastian pulls up outside the bakery. The lights are still on inside, but the closed sign is turned over the French glass-pane door. I see Eva behind the counter, pulling the Z report out of the till. Most of the tables are cleared, and the baked good displays are empty. It looks like she did most of the work and there’s not much left for me to do, except give her the terrible news.

“God, can’t we just drive away somewhere and never come back?” I mutter mostly to myself as I stare at my sister.

“Would you like that?” Sebastian asks, his voice soft and low.

I give him a startled look. “Oh, shit, I said that out loud?”

“It’s okay,” he says as he starts to get out of the car. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.”

“See you,” Riggs and Waylan say from the backseat.

Once I’m out of the car and the cool, early October air hits my lungs, I take a deep breath, feeling the prickliness in my lungs. It’ll snow soon.

“I’m partial to running away sometimes too,” Sebastian says. We move slowly, taking each step toward the bakery’s front door with heavy hesitation. Eva is carrying a box into the back room. My heart hurts as I think of how I’m going to tell her.

“Honestly, right now, I wouldn’t even flinch. I’d just jump in the car and go,” I reply, lowering my gaze. But Sebastian gently takes my chin between his thumb and index finger, leaving me breathless as he beckons me to look up at him.

He’s so close. I can feel his breath on my lips. He smells of coffee and nutmeg. “You were incredible today. A gift from St. Nick, I’ll wager.”

“Nonsense. I saw three people in need and figured I could help. That’s all.”

“Regardless, thank you. You definitely have a way with kids, I’ll give you that.”

My lips part as he lowers his head and kisses me. I melt as everything else falls away. All I can feel are his lips on mine, all I can taste is him. I revel in the warmth of his presence, the magnificence of his masculine frame. I want to disappear in the moment. I want time to stop. Maybe everything will go away if he keeps kissing me.

“I shouldn’t have done that, but I won’t apologize either,” he whispers, gently pulling back.

“No need to apologize.”

“Whatever is going on with you, Cora, it will be okay,” Sebastian says. “There’s something about you. I’m not sure what it is, exactly, but I’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.”

My knees feel weak. My chest is filled with raging butterflies. Sebastian gives me one last smile before going back to his car. “I’ll see you again soon, Cora.”

“You will?”

“You bet those sweet lips of yours.”

All I can do is stare at him in disbelief. He gets behind the wheel as Waylan gets into the passenger seat. All three men meet my gaze, and I can see the hunger in their eyes. It mirrors thehunger swelling deep inside me. I noticed it when we first met. It was an instant chemical reaction, and it’s only getting stronger. I should be alarmed by this, but I’m not.

I’m curious and excited.

Wait, didn’t they want to talk to me about something?

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