Page 10 of The Bad Boy's Secret Santa

As if on cue, Brooklyn arrives, carting in several bakery boxes. My stomach rumbles at the sight, reminding me I’ve eaten very little today. This seems to be a bad habit I’ve developed when it comes to Eli.That’s because the only appetite you have around that man is reserved for the bedroom.

“I’m going to give her a hand with those,” I say to Glenn, hoping the lighting is too dim for him to notice the blush on my cheeks. “Would you like me to swipe one for you?”

“Bring two,” he says, clapping me gently on the shoulder.

As I meet Brooklyn at the long table set up against the back wall, I can’t help but wonder if it would be the worst idea to have a little fun before he leaves again? Maybe I’m supposed to get him out of my system once and for all so I can make room in my heart for the man who I’m actually meant to be with.

“Need help?” I offer.

She hands over a frosted sugar cookie without having to ask. I bite into the ornament shaped morsel and damn near moan. Ihelped Meg finish up these cookies last night while I was hiding from Eli. Though I did help myself to some dough scraps, I wasn’t around when she baked and frosted them today.

“You’re a life saver.”

“You okay?” she asks, her drawn-in eyebrows hinting at concern. Probably from the way I inhaled that cookie and am eyeing the rest of them like they’re a feast. I resist the urge to scarf down another one and help spread them out on serving trays.

“I’m okay. Except this Secret Santa thing might kill me,” I add in a grumble.

“Oh, I don’t know. I think it could be fun,” she says, a twinkle in her eye.

I don’t push since we can’t reveal whose name we drew. But I’d bet Brooklyn has a name she’s actually excited about. Which only makes me realize I should probably keep from griping about it—to my friends or anyone else. I’m supposed to be representing the event, after all. Grandma would definitely scold me for my lack of Christmas spirit if she heard me complaining about it.

“Hey, are you coming to Meg’s mistletoe and margaritas later?” Brooklyn asks.

“That’s tonight?”

“Yeah, didn’t you get the text?”

There’s a strong likelihood I missed it while I buried myself in another website project with a January due date. “I’ll be there,” I promise.

“Great! I’ll see you there.”

I plate the two cookies intended for Glenn, but I don’t get a chance to deliver them before I overhear Eli, deep in conversation with a couple of navy veterans nearby. When and how did that man sneak in here without me catching him? My awareness of Eli is at an all-time high. My nipples should’vepebbled the second he pulled into the parking lot.They are pebbled.

“Eli Winchester, what an honor,” one of the vets says, shaking his hand.

I catch a glimpse of him over my shoulder, noticing how well those low-slung jeans sit on his hips. It would take nothing to undo that belt—Piper, seriously!

“I’m sorry about your uncle’s passing,” the other says. “It’s not the same without him. He talked about you all the time, you know.”

“He did?” The surprise in Eli’s voice makes me want to go to him. To slip my hand into his. Meeting my desires somewhere in the middle, I carry Glenn’s plate of cookies to Eli’s side and linger there.

“The war messed some of us up,” the other vet says. “Roy was never quite the same when he got home. It changed him. That’s no excuse, and he knew it. But he did love you, son. He was proud of the young man you became.”

Eli and Roy had a complicated relationship, to say the least. Though the man was never violent or abusive toward Eli, he was always cold and distant. Made Eli work his ass off for everything he needed. He wouldn’t talk about it much, but I witnessed enough to know how much it affected him. Once Eli left town, I avoided Roy. In some ways, I felt like the man was responsible for Eli running away. For robbing me of a future with him.

But maybe I was being too harsh.

Judging by the expression on Eli’s face now, he might be feeling some of the same remorse.

“Eli, I should introduce you to Glenn. He’s the commander.” I nod to the table at the back of the room. “You gentleman should grab a cookie or two before they’re gone. Meg made them.”

Their eyes light up as they excuse themselves.

Eli points that whiskey gaze at me, sending me a silent thank you. I hold the plate of cookies for Glenn with both hands, lest I do something stupid like grab a fistful of the sports jacket that suddenly looks really good on him.

“Glenn, have you met Roy’s nephew Eli?” I hand Glenn the plate, ignoring the way his gaze bounces between Eli and me. It’s only now that I realize how close we’re standing. The heat swirling between us could thaw the thickest ice caps in seconds. “He’d like to make a donation on Roy’s behalf.”

I miss an entire portion of their conversation, trying to calm my racing pulse. I’m distracted by the hand that ever so gently caps my shoulder. His touch is fucking fire. I catch a few words.Funding, uncle, karaoke, repairs.But the rest is lost on me until I hear, “We’re honored to have this Army vet as a member.”

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