Page 24 of The Billionaire's Naughty List

“Same.” Hell, the idea of flying back to Seattle without her by my side makes the hot chocolate curdle in my stomach. “Why don’t I tell him I’ve met someone? Break the ice, so he’ll be warned when he shows up.”

She slouches in my lap, brain going a hundred miles an hour.

Did I mention she runs our shit?

“What if he asks about your mystery woman?”

“I’ll tell him he’ll learn more when he gets here.”

She purses her lips. I cup her cheek and pull her down for a quick kiss.

“We’ve got this. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you. You’re stuck with me. He’ll just have to deal.”

“What if he’s mad?”

“Then he’s mad. I can’t control him. I wouldn’t want to.”

“I just don’t want anyone to be hurt.”

“Lily, I hurt you last year when I turned you down. Doing that hurt me too. I’ve lived in a hell of my own making. I’m not willing to do that again, not even for my best friend.”

Her smile is even more watery now, but I’m pretty sure those are happy tears.

11

LILY

Is there an equivalent of rage baking for when you’re worried? Whatever that is, that’s what I’m doing.

Don’t worry. I sanitized everything before I set up my little bake shop.

Two days have passed since Elliot stormed back into my life and I got the shock of a lifetime. I’m not talking about the lake, although that was cold as heck, but his heart felt admission.

He’s since sent the promised text to my dad, and here I am. Up to my elbows in cookie dough, frosting in my hair.

I’m scheduled to do another live today. Elliot sent his plane for my family, but the snow is keeping everything grounded. Which is saying something about the amount of white stuff on the ground out there.

The mudroom door opens and closes, pulling my attention from the dough beneath my rolling pin. Elliot strides down the hall looking sexy as sin in his thick flannel shirt. He’s straight out of my dreams.

“Now I remember why I have Kyle shovel snow. My ass is frozen.” He grumbles about the resort keeping Kyle too busy, as if it’s not Mother Nature’s fault that we woke up to another six inches of snow.

I make a commiserating sound. “Are you a popsicle?”

He slides in behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and rests his chin on the top of my head. “I am. You gonna warm me up?”

“Did you find any mistletoe?”

He dangles a sprig over my head. With a happy gasp, I turn in his arms and stretch up, pressing my lips to his. He’s icy cold, but not for long. The mistletoe hits the counter behind me and he wraps me up in a hug so tight I never want to escape. He sweeps his tongue along the seam of my lips, begging entrance.

I open for him and he doesn’t waste a second. My body comes alive, lighting up with delight and desire in every place we touch. Moaning, I suck on his tongue. His hands coast down my back, grabbing my ass and hanging on tight.

Every moment we’re not touching is too long and now that we’re chasing away the chill, one minute stretches into the next. And the next.

Only when his phone chimes do we pull apart, breathing hard. It’s my dad’s text tone.

I turn around, keeping my back pressed to his front. “Read it.”

He keeps an arm wrapped around me, hand splayed across my lower belly, as he fishes his phone out of his pocket.

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