Page 18 of Flirting with the Scrooge

“I’d like him to drown in a vat of fruit cake batter. That’s it.”

“Come on. You’re talking about beards, which he has. You both seem to take pleasure in getting under each other's skin at every opportunity. You two hate flirt!”

“No, we don’t. That’s not even a thing.”

“Oh yes, it is! And you two are totally hate flirting the hell out of each other. You’re constantly at each other’s throats, but then when he’s not around, you casually bring him up in conversation. Have some fun and go for it.” She shrugs her shoulder, but a sly smirk spreads across her face. “Also, he gave you that cute nickname. What was it again?” She taps her finger against her chin as if she’s thinking, but she knows exactly what it is. She just wants me to say it.

I blow out an exasperated sigh. “Tinsel.” However, I have to bite the side of my cheek to hide my smile.

“See. Cute nickname. And you can’t tell me you hate it.” She raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

Ugh! She’s right. I don’t hate it but I should. Same goes for liking him. It’s not possible. I hate him. Or at least strongly dislike him. A relationship between us would only work if he didn’t talk. But there is no relationship. There’s nothing. Why do I keep thinking about this? Thinking about him. I’ve never been the wishy-washy person. If I see something, I go for it, but Connor has me tied up in knots. I need to go home and sort through my thoughts because Olivia isn’t helping.

“Let’s call it a day. The snow’s coming down pretty good and I’d hate to drive in it as it continues to get worse. I’ll take these home and go over them.” I grab the stack of papers and shove them in a folder.

“Yeah. You’re probably right.” We pay our bill and say our goodbyes to Rylee and Jake behind the bar before heading out.

* * *

After I come in from shoveling the three inches of snow that’s already accumulated on my front step, I flop down onto the couch and tug a blanket over my lap. The soft glow of the Christmas tree creates a warm ambiance. I bring the cup of hot cocoa to my lips and take a sip. My mind flits back to the conversation earlier with Olivia. Hate flirting. That’s not even a thing. There’s a lot of hate, but definitely not flirting. Why would I flirt with him? Sure, he’s semi attractive… fine, he’s sexy as hell and I don’t know why I find him so hot. One minute he’s a jerk, but then there are teeny tiny moments when he’s sweet, so it tells me he’s not a complete asshole. He seems averse to people in general. When I’ve run into him in public, he always has his hat pulled down and sunglasses on. And the time at Roasters when someone asked about his name, he was out of there faster than when Christmas decorations go on sale after the holidays. I swallow another sip of my cocoa. It makes me even more curious about him.

The lights on the Christmas tree flicker briefly, then shut off. Silence fills the house. I wait a few minutes, expecting the electricity to spring back to life, but it doesn’t. Climbing off the couch, I peer out the window. I can’t see anything. It’s pitch black out. In fact, the entire neighborhood is without power. Crap.

TWELVE

VANILLA AND ASS

Connor

I strum the strings on my guitar, loving the way the music flows all around me. Through me. The soft melody fills my soul. This is the first time I’ve picked up my guitar in over a week. I’m pretty sure this is the longest I’ve ever gone without playing. Sadly, I didn’t have a desire to play anything until recently when I ran into Tatum at the grocery store. There was a glint in her eyes that sparked something inside me. So here I am on a cold and snowy evening doing what I love again. Since I was a kid, I knew I wanted to play music. Eventually it became the air I needed to breathe. Too bad, it’s also the very thing that nearly destroyed me.

I strum a few more chords, the soft melody almost like a lullaby while the snowflakes dance across the sky to the music I’m playing in my living room. Suddenly, everything goes black, and I freeze. Rising to my feet I find the nearest lamp to twist the knob, but nothing. That’s when I notice the streetlights are off as well. In fact, the power’s out for the entire neighborhood. Shit. I set my guitar down in the case. If the power is out, then that means the furnace is as well.

Since Grams keeps everything, I found a drawer full of flashlights and two unopened packs of batteries. I pull them out and set them on the counter. Not knowing how long we’ll be without power, I throw on my jacket and shove my feet into my boots. Outside the backdoor is a small covering where I stacked some firewood I chopped earlier. No better time to use it than now.

Snow swirls around me as a gust of wind smacks my face, sending a chill down my spine. Quickly, I load my arms up with as many pieces as I can carry. Back inside, I stack them next to the fireplace in the living room and go back out to get another arm full. Once I have enough wood for a few hours, I stack a few pieces inside the fireplace and light some paper for a fire starter. It crackles and pops from the temperature change, but eventually evens out to a warm glow. I sit cross-legged in front of the flames, mesmerized by the way they shimmer and dance. Something so simple, yet it can be so destructive. Much like my career.

An hour passes and we’re still without power. I open my phone and check the power company’s website and sure enough the power is out for twenty thousand customers. A third of the city is without power, in the middle of a snowstorm nonetheless. Rising to my feet, I make my way to the kitchen but freeze when I pass the picture window. Across the street, through Tatum’s window, I can make out a silhouette carrying around what appears to be a candle. As I glance around, I spot several dots of light scattered around her living room. She’s going to burn her house down with all those candles. A pang of guilt hits my chest. If my furnace isn’t working, then I’m sure hers isn’t either. The fire in the fireplace crackles, drawing my attention from my neighbor.

I trudge toward the door and shove my arms into the sleeves of my coat and tie my boots. I yank a knit beanie over my head and open the door. My boots sink into the freshly fallen snow. My tracks practically fill in as soon as I step out from the blowing snow. With my head down to block my face from the snow and wind, I trek down my driveway and across the street. Once I’m at her door, I raise my fist and knock. Several seconds pass before Tatum answers, a big comforter wrapped around her.

“What do you want?” She pulls the blanket tighter.

“The power’s out.”

“Well duh. Half the city is without power right now.”

“Come to my house. I have a wood burning fireplace.”

“You’ve come here to save me?” Her shoulders drop a fraction.

“If by saving, you mean keeping you from freezing to death, then yes. I’d hate for that to be on my conscience.”

A smile flirts on her lips and fuck if it isn’t sexy as hell.

“Aww, you were thinking about me.”

“The offer expires in five. Four. Three. Two.”

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