Page 12 of Naughty Santa

“Hi, Sandy,” she said, waving awkwardly. “Heels and ice don’t mix.”

“I’m aware. You all close the shop?” Sandy asked.

Joe nodded. “Yeah. I’m going to run back there after I get Paris settled in to grab her bags and lock everything up.”

“Great. My mouth is killing me. Jaden, hand Joe that leash and come on home with me. I need to pop a few Advil and lay down.”

Jaden reluctantly gave him the leash, which Joe immediately handed to Paris. Then his nephew bent down to pet the dog one more time before climbing in the cab of the truck. “See you at home, Uncle Joe.”

He nodded his goodbye and watched the two of them drive away.

Paris wiggled again and started to slide off his shoulder. Joe hoisted her more securely, his hand on her ass. Once he had a good grip on her, he patted her ass playfully and started up the sidewalk to her front door as she laughed.

“Spank it a little harder next time,” she teased.

Resistance was going to be fucking futile if she kept flirting with him like that.

And then, because she issued the invitation, Joe swatted her ass again. Harder.

She moaned a little, and that was when Joe knew he was a goner.

He set her down at the front door and unlocked it, gesturing for her to walk in first.

Paris’s gaze traveled around the front room of Lydia’s house, and it didn’t take a genius to see the city girl wasn’t impressed. It wasn’t that Lydia had a bad house. But it was definitely better suited to an older woman, with the antique furniture that had “been in the family since the beginning of time,” according to Lydia. Every flat surface was covered with lace doilies, andchintz curtains hung in the windows. There was plastic covering the green-and-gold velvet settee in the parlor and an oriental rug covering the hardwood floor.

“Wow,” Paris half whispered, half mouthed.

“Lydia didn’t spend much time in this room,” Joe quickly explained. “There’s a family room at the back of the house where she usually kicked back at night to knit and read.” Of course, the decor in that room wasn’t much better than this room he realized, as he recalled the mountain scene wallpaper that adorned one whole wall, the rest covered in wood paneling that screamed 1970, and the green shag carpeting. Maybe he better let her discover that room on her own.

Her stomach growled, reminding him that she hadn’t eaten all day. “How about we head to the kitch?—”

That was all he managed to say before Louis started barking and jumping like he’d been bitten by a snake. Then Joe heard a hiss and a ferocious growl.

“Shit,” he said. “I forgot about Roscoe.”

Paris glanced his direction for a hot second before Louis reclaimed her attention, the small dog literally trying to climb up her leg in his efforts to escape Lydia’s big old tomcat, Roscoe.

“A cat?” she asked, picking Louis up just before the cat sprung. Roscoe circled the three of them, like a tiger stalking its prey.

“Go on, Roscoe,” Joe said, snapping his fingers at the grumpy beast. He’d been feeding the cat since Lydia’s passing, but apparently providing sustenance wasn’t enough to endear the asshole to him.

Roscoe gave him the evil eye, then slunk upstairs, probably to his usual hiding spot under Lydia’s bed. He’d have to warn Paris the cat was a master of sneak attacks when anyone walked too close to him.

“She has a cat.” She sighed, sounding more tired by the minute. “What the hell am I going to do with a cat?”

“Sorry I forgot to mention that. Come on. Let’s get you something to eat, and then I’ll run back to the store for your bags.”

She followed Joe to the kitchen, dropping heavily onto one of the wooden chairs while he rummaged through the cabinets. Sure enough, he found a box of spaghetti and a jar of sauce. He was no Bobby Flay, but he could whip up pasta easy enough.

“I’ve never seen so many tins in my life,” Paris said, gesturing to Lydia’s collection of vintage tins. They lined the top of the cupboards, stacked three high. “Lydia was clearly into antiques.”

Joe nodded as he filled a pot with water. “What are you into, Paris? Besides fluffy little dogs and impractical shoes?” He lifted the lid on the glass jar filled with cat treats and bent down to offer one to Louis.

The bichon wasn’t above taking whatever he could get, so he eagerly ate it out of his hand.

“I own a pet boutique. I like music festivals, wine, and traveling. Though I don’t get to travel very often right now while I’m establishing my business.”

Yep. Nothing in common. “It’s very impressive that you opened your own store at your age.” Joe slid the pasta into the water and unscrewed the lid of the sauce.

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