Page 16 of Holiday Hook-Up
The driver took a sharp turn around a bend and I was too caught up in Logan’s face to react. Before I knew it, my head knocked into his cheek.
“Shit, sorry!” I righted myself and rubbed my temple, feeling more embarrassed than anything else. “Why is your face so hard?”
“Let me see.” He cupped my chin, sending tingles into my chest.
“I’m fine.” I swallowed entirely too loudly. “I was kidding.”
His finger trailed across my cheek while he looked me over. Those tingles spread lower until they settled in the apex of my thighs. I sat frozen, knowing the moment I broke whatever spell this was, he’d stop touching me. I knew I shouldn’t want his hands on me, but even this minute gesture felt too good.
The car lurched to a stop in front of Craggy’s, jerking us forward. Too abruptly, he drew his hand back to his side. I hated the loss of his touch but shook that feeling away.
“Am I going to live, doctor?” I went back to teasing him.
He sighed and smirked. “It looks like it. Although, a thorough examination would be required to know more.”
“Doctor Connor, you could lose your license for that kind of salacious insinuation.”
“Oh, Emerald, if you only knew.” He pulled a hand through his dark hair and helped me out of the car and into the warmth of the diner.
Chapter 7
Logan
From: [email protected]
Date: Saturday, Dec 24 at 10:56 AM
Subject: All the details
How’s it going with the club? I want all the details… don’t skimp on me. This is me you’re talking to, not the board. You think there’s a voyeur room? Asking for a friend.
-Your friend who’s stuck home watching Christmas cartoons on repeat
WithanamelikeCraggy Cravings, the diner looked how I’d expected. A huge wooden carved bear statue wearing a Santa hat stood next to the check in counter and nature themed decor lined the walls. Although it was Christmas Eve, almost every wooden table was filled with diners.
I spotted an empty two-seater near the back wall right next to a blackened stone fireplace. A lone log sat—crackling away—throwing just enough heat that we’d be cozy and not sweating.
“So this is Craggy’s,” Emerald said in a tone that reminded me of a tour guide.
“Kitschy. I like it.”
Emerald waved to the frazzled looking waitress. “She looks swamped. Let’s seat ourselves.”
Seated with the one-page menus in front of us, I felt some of the tension I’d been carrying all morning leave my chest. Joyful conversations carried throughout the space around us, mingling with what sounded like the Nat King Cole Christmas album. With the glow of the fire behind her, Emerald’s fair skin looked radiant.
She caught me staring, but this time, she matched my look with an intensity of her own. My phone chimed, breaking our concentration. Fucking thing. If I could power it off for the rest of the day I would.
“What’s good here?”
“Depends on what you consider good.” She laughed. “Everything is either deep fried or smothered in gravy. Tastes great, but don’t go into a body of water for at least two days afterwards or you’ll sink to the bottom.”
“So I should cancel my scuba trip tomorrow? Noted.” Her husky laugh pulled a genuine grin from my lips. I scanned the menu. “Wow, I’ve never seen salad described in that way.”
“Wait, what? They added a salad option? That’s new.” I reached across the table to point it out and my knuckle brushed against her delicate palm. It took a will of steel to not fold her hand into mine.
“Right here,” I said.
