Page 20 of Flirting with the Scrooge

She huffs and props her chin up in her palm. The warm glow from the fire illuminates her face. I don’t know what it is, but I’m drawn to her. I want to be near her. Feel her presence. If I move one cushion over, we’d be touching. I could run my hand up her denim covered leg. Feel her warmth under my palm. She’d glance up at me, the most beautiful, hypnotic blue eyes meeting mine. Fuck. This isn’t why I invited her over.

I jump to my feet. “Do you want something to drink?”

She lifts her head, eyebrows raised. “What do you got?”

“Beer, hard cider, maybe a bottle of water.”

“I’ll have a hard cider.”

I nod as I stroll out of the living room and round the corner into the kitchen. I need to get away from her. Give myself some room to breathe. With a hand gripping the handle of the fridge, I pause, needing a moment to clear my head. After exhaling a deep breath, I open the door and pull out a beer and a bottle of hard cider. When I close it and spin around, Tatum’s standing there. My hand bumps into her arm, causing me to lose my grip on the bottle and it crashes to the floor. Shards of glass and cider scatter across the linoleum.

“Shit.”

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” Her hands jump to cover her mouth.

“It’s okay.” I set the beer on the counter and reach for a dish towel hanging on the stove. I toss the towel on to the floor to soak up some of the liquid.

“Let me help you.” She bends down and picks up pieces of glass.

“Be careful. Don’t cut yourself.”

“I got it. I’m not going to cut myself.” She continues to pick up small shards of glass while I grab another towel. “Shit,” she mutters under her breath.

“You cut yourself, didn’t you?”

“No…”

I tug on her elbow, forcing her to stand. Flipping her hand over, a streak of red stains the tip of her thumb and runs down to her palm.

“We should get this cleaned up.” Before she can respond, I step over the mess and lead her to the garbage can. She tosses the pieces of glass from her other hand into the trash. With my hand still wrapped around her wrist, I guide her down a narrow hallway and flick on the light switch in the bathroom.

“Shit. No lights.”

“I have my phone. You could use the flashlight.” She reaches for her phone with her other hand, but I stop her.

“Wait. I’m sure you have glass fragments on your other hand too. Where’s your phone?”

Her gaze meets mine. “In my back pocket.”

“Oh.” My chest tightens. I never got to the touching her ass portion of my fantasy earlier, but apparently now it gets to play out in real time. The hairs on my arms rise as if a current of electricity is coursing between us. In fact, I’m sure it’s so strong it could power its own light bulb. Hell. It could light up the entire city right now.

Slowly, I reach behind her. My palm drags down the back of her sweater and over the curve of her ass. My fingers run along the seam of the pocket before I dip my hand in. Finding her phone, I pull it out and hold it between us.

“If you swipe up, you’ll see the flashlight icon.”

I do as she says, and a light on the back illuminates the floor. I usher us the rest of the way into the bathroom and set the phone flashlight side up, so it brightens the small room.

“We’ll have to make this quick. I don’t know how long we’ll have water pressure and it’s best to conserve it for emergencies since we don’t know how long the power will be out.” I guide her hands under the running water to wash away any glass slivers, along with the blood from her cut. Once her hands are clean, I direct her to sit on the closed toilet seat.

“You know I can do this myself.”

I don’t want to admit that I enjoy touching her, so I go with something else. “I feel responsible. I dropped it.”

“It was an accident.”

My gaze meets hers, but I don’t say anything. Instead, I continue holding her wrist as I pull open a drawer in the vanity. As fast as I can, I push a tube of toothpaste to the side, along with a bottle of shaving cream and disposable razors until I find a few loose Band-Aids. I shut the drawer with my hip and use my teeth to pull off one side of the paper backing.

She chuckles. “You know I could help you.”

---