Page 1 of Kept for Christmas

Chapter One

Emma

I really like BuzzFeed quizzes. The ones where you pick a fruit, a jungle animal, and your favorite latte, then some random person on the internet tells you what kind of mother you’ll be. Turns out, I’m going to be a helicopter mom. I don’t know how strawberries, giraffes, and mocha latte make you a helicopter mom, but it’s bad form to question the system.

Everybody knows that.

The ceiling fan whirs above me and the knot in my stomach grows the second I see Nick making his way up the driveway. I was a little cocky when I said I agreed to stay here under his supervision. In my head,my concussed head,I’d convinced myself that staying with the man of my dreams would end up like a Hallmark movie. A bit of flirtatious ribbing and a snowy storm that traps us together with some Christmas magic that undoubtedly takes us back in time and gives us the divine intervention we need to help us see that love is our only option.

Instead, I’ve gotten something more in line with a Lifetime original. I’ve learned that Mr. Perfect prefers red heads. I got dizzy and fell twice. And, turns out, this snowy little cabin is more of a messy sweat box than a candy cane chalet. I swear this man doesn’t own a single cleaning supply.

“You’re supposed to be resting.” Nick’s tone is deep and grumpy the second he steps inside. This should be a turnoff,especially considering he’s clearly not into me. Instead, for some sick reason, it makes me want him more. It’s like I’m trying to prove something to myself.

What’s that about? I make a mental note to ask my therapist later.She really has her hands full with me.

“I rested all day. I’m antsy. Besides, this place needs a scrubbing. I can’t sit like this for two weeks.”

He glances around the room with wide eyes, as though I’m crazy. “It looks fine.”

I swipe my finger along the edge of the windowsill and proudly show him the thick swath of dust that comes up with it. “It’s not fine. It’s filthy, and I’m cleaning it.”

“You want me inyourhouse, picking it apart?” He pulls his gloves off and sets them on the dining room table before kicking off his snowy boots.

My chest tightens and the reality of how I’m talking to him settles in. Maybe cleaning the man’s house and insulting him at the same time was a bit rude. In my defense,he’sbeen rude to me all week.

“You always been like this, or is it the head injury talking?” The snark in his tone is undeniably annoying.

I roll my eyes. It’s these kinds of comments I’ve been getting all week. At first, I figured he was immature, and this was his school yard way of flirting. I’ve slowly realized this is just his personality. I figure years alone does this to a person. How could it not?

I toss down the rag and cross my arms over my chest. “Do you ever get tired of yourself?”

“Not really.” He grins and leans into the fridge for a beer. What do I see in this man, aside from the gargantuan biceps, extra wide shoulders, and the rugged, roughed up look on his face? Oh, and the ink… loads and loads of dark black, bad boy ink.

Did I say I need help yet, because I do. Lots of it. I can’t even blame it on my accident. I was thinking filthy thoughts about Nick long before I smashed into that tree.

He sits back in the recliner next to the sofa, kicks up his feet, and tips back his beer with a sigh before glaring toward me. “Youever get tired ofyourself?”

“No, but I’m a pleasant human being. You’re… well… you.”

“Funny way to talk to someone who’s letting you live in their house rent free.”

I laugh. “Rent free? Isn’t this payback for some favor you owe your brother? I think Mira lucked out with him. Clearly, the gene pool disintegrated before you were born.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure another version of you in this world could only be an improvement.” His brows turn inward as he bites back a pleased grin.

“You like picking on girls?”

“No, just you.” He takes another sip of beer and adjusts himself further back in the recliner.

I’m not sure what I was thinking coming here. Well, I do know what I was thinking, but it wasn’t well thought out. There’s no Hallmark movie happening in this cabin. And I’m afraid if we’re together one more night, I’ll lose my mind.

I walk toward the bedroom, ignoring the spinning that ensues with each step.

“Where are you going?” His tone is low, but softer this time. “I’m messing around. Come sit. You need to rest.”

“Well,” I snap my gaze back toward him, closing my eyes as the room spins, “I hate to collect another day of free rent. I’m leaving.”

He rolls his eyes. “And go where, princess? You’re here because you have nowhere to go. Besides that, you’re dizzy again. Sit down!”

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