Page 23 of Snowed In With The Second Chance Daddy

“It was an accident,” I grumble, leering at Red.

She won’t meet my eyes. If she thinks we’re done having this conversation, she has another thing coming.

Trevor clears his throat. “I can go.”

“No, you just got here!” Red exclaims, going over to him. “Is this for me?”

Trevor nods, handing her the poinsettia. “And I brought the eggnog as promised.”

I frown. “As promised?”

Trevor’s eyes meet mine. “Yes, this has been on my calendar for weeks. Eggnog, carols…cookies.”

Red smashes her hand to her forehead. “I totally forgot. Ha! Silly me, now that Iris is in town–”

I narrow my eyes at her.

She’s not doing herself any favors when it comes to the allegations of trying to get Trevor and me in the same room again.

“I’ll go. Then you all can have your night as planned.”

“No!” Oliver cries out. “No, come on, can’t we…”

He cradles Rose to his chest. “Can’t we all have a nice night for Rosie?”

“I accidentally threatened Rose with a rolling pin, I think she’ll be fine if I–”

Trevor shrugs. “I’m fine with it as long as Iris is.”

I stare at him, watch him shuck off his long, wool coat. “You are?”

Damn that coat. It’s so sexy and sensible. The sun to my moody and messy moon. It made sense from the beginning. Until it didn’t.

Trevor goes to one of the cabinets and pulls down four glasses. “At least a glass of eggnog, hm? See how we feel after that.”

Red nods. “That’s a great idea, Trev. One glass of eggnog and if you still can’t stand to be in the same room as him–”

“Or vice versa,” I say, not drawing my eyes away from Trevor as he pours the eggnog.

Red comes up to me, giving me an overly toothy smile.

Go along with it, she begs in silence.

And fine. I’m only in Chicago for a week and regardless of the reason they actually got me here, I am here to give my goddaughter a good Christmas. That’s all.

Their plans don’t have to affect me, other than being in the same room as Trevor.

“Okay. One eggnog and then we’ll see.”

Red gives me a grateful smile just as Trevor swoops in with my glass of eggnog.

I take it from him. “Thank you.”

He nods, curls jiggling out of place. “No problem.”

Fuck,he’s so close I can smell him. And he always smelled nice after a day of work. His cologne mixed with the natural set of a worn day. Ink, paper, coffee.

There were nights he’d come home, and I’d climb him like a tree, trying to pick up as much of his scent as I could.

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