Page 2 of The Roommate Remodel

With a stranger, I’d never consider it, but Brax is no stranger to me. He’s Mia’s brother. We’ve been working together tirelessly on this wedding for the last few days. How bad can it be?

I stop eating and tilt my head. “For how long? And will there be food in said closet?”

His lips curve into another amused grin. “Bothchicken and steak.”

The thought of hiding in a closet with Brax sounds like an answer to my wedding nightmare and exactly what Mia warned menotto do. My gaze flicks to Mia and Jace on the dance floor. As her groom sweeps her across the floor, Mia gives me a stern look and shakes her head.

I spin away and pretend I didn’t see her. “I thought the chicken would deter you since you find my appetite so unattractive.”

“You thought wrong,” Brax says with that confidence that I’m sure makes most women weak. “About me finding it unattractive... or a deterrent.”

I’ll give him this.He’s smooth.A lesson I learned the first time I met him at a Christmas festival last year when he flirted shamelessly with me.

When Mia got engaged, she told me Brax had agreed to be a groomsman at her wedding and had given him an invitation with a plus-one guest.

Since he’s jaw-dropping gorgeous, I braced myself for his arrival with a bombshell model on his arm. So when he showed up alone, no plus-one in sight, the small flame I’d kept alive burned even brighter, despite his sister’s warnings about falling for him.

During the last few days of wedding preparations, Brax has gone from flirtatious to full-on charming with his impeccable timing. No matter if I was decorating for the reception or arranging party favors, Brax would always appear as if by magic, offering his help.

“Hold still. You have sauce on your lips.” He reaches for my mouth but stops before he touches me. “May I?”

I nod briskly, even though I can hear Mia’s voice inwardly scolding me.Bad idea, Jaz. Really bad idea.

“Right”—he swipes his thumb over the corner of my lips gently—“here.”

A shiver runs all the way down my body, even though he’s saving me from the humiliation of having sauce on my face.

He licks his thumb and smirks. “Good sauce.”

Right now, I just want to eat more kebabs so he can do that again.And again and again.

Has it been that long since a man has paid attention to me?

“Still hungry?” he asks, glancing at the appetizer table. “It looks like they just brought out more guacamole.”

“I could eat that with a shovel,” I say enthusiastically. Surely, this will frighten the poor man off.

Instead of looking at me like I’m insane, Brax’s lips curve into the biggest smile. “My kind of woman.”

As he walks away, my heart stutters in my chest.My kind of woman? How could he say that?Sports stars don’t date regular girls like me. They go out withSports Illustratedmodels. Or Taylor Swift.

The last thing I need is a crush on a guy sworn to lifelong bachelorhood. Not that I knew his intentions when I met him last year and was promptly bowled over by his disarming gaze and irresistible charm. It’s Mia’s fault, really. She roped me into assisting her with the Maplewood Mistletoe Festival, her Vermont hometown’s claim to fame. Needing an escape from South Carolina, her invitation seemed like a Hallmark movie dream come true. A trip to a darling and ridiculously romantic Christmas festival?Sign me up.

After arriving in Maplewood exhausted from my early morning flight, I’d stopped by the most adorable coffee shop and ordered a large caramel latte with an extra shot of espresso.

When the barista set the drink on the pickup counter, I began chugging like my life depended on it. I didn’t care if I scalded my tongue. I needed a jolt of caffeine to perk me up before I tackled a million mistletoe decorations.

Next thing I knew, a disgruntled businessman was in my face, angrily glancing from me to the cup in my hand. “You took my coffee,” he stewed. “Can’t youread?”

Everyone turned to stare at me. I suddenly wished an escape hatch would open in the floor and swallow me in one gulp.

I glanced at the cup and realized that instead of saying “Jaz,” it said “Cal.”Not even close.“I’m truly sorry,” I apologized, my face heating. “I’ll buy you a new one. And I can explain...”

He frowned. “I don’t have time for a new one—or your flimsy excuses.”

This guy was obviously having a bad day, and I had inadvertently gotten caught in the line of his snarky fire. Suddenly, this Hallmark town didn’t seem so blissfully perfect, especially since I’d run into the town grinch.

“Is there something I could do?” I asked, even though I wanted to curl into a ball and put my face directly into this steaming cup of caffeinated goodness. I didn’t have the energy to deal with grumpy Cal today.

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