Page 103 of The Holiday Hate-Off
“Youhaven’t been very nice to me,” I point out, despite the lump in my throat.
It’s the thought of Lucy feeling left out that’s affecting me.
Lucy, staying home to take care of her sick mother instead of acting like a twenty-year-old does.
“That’s probably the only reason you want to sleep with me,” she says dreamily.
“It’s definitely not the only reason, but it doesn’t hurt.”
“Also because I’m a virgin.”
“That doesn’t make the list at all.”
She snorts. “As if. You never would have given me a second thought if you hadn’t seen that note.”
“That’s not true,” I argue, because it’snot. Sure, the note got my attention, but there’s no way I wouldn’t have noticed her. No man could work next door to her without being captivated, however reluctantly.
“That’s your story, but it isn’t mine.”
“Okay, Lucia.”
She nuzzles her head against my neck, and I thank God she doesn’t have her back to me. If she did, there’s no way she wouldn’t feel?—
“You’reveryhard. I can feel you. You know, I’m not really all that tipsy anymore. We could totally?—”
“I’m getting up now,” I say, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“To take care of that?” she asks, interest flashing in her eyes as I climb out of the bed. Her gaze lingers on the bulge in my pants. “I mean, are you going to?—”
“That’s between me and my dick. Sleep well.”
“You’re leaving,” she says, her mouth in a pout.
“You have your friend’s cat to keep watch over you.”
“You could sleep on the couch. It’s late.”
“Are you worried about me getting home safely?” I ask, amused by the thought. She’s right about one thing when it comes to Hideaway Harbor. It’s safe.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” she says, with a strain of sadness in her voice that guaran-fucking-tees I won’t be leaving.
“I’ll sleep on the couch,” I assure her. “And I’ll teach you to make a real cappuccino in the morning.”
“Your grandmother already offered,” she says sleepily.
That captures my attention. My dick deflates, my chin tips up. “When’d she offer to do that?”
More importantly:whydid she offer to do that?
“I’m very tired,” Lucy says, frowning. “But she came by yesterday. She wants Eileen to set you up with someone. I haven’t told Eileen yet.”
“Because you were jealous, Lucy?” I ask, needing to know. Maybe it’s not fair, trying to get her to talk now, while she’s still under the influence. But playing fair is for people who are okay with losing.
“Don’t you wish,” she says with a small smile. “No. I didn’t want some innocent woman to suffer.”
Ouch. But I did ask. I shouldn’t expect her opinion of me to have changed that much, and I can’t say she’s wrong about me. I have been rude. Overbearing. Manipulative.
All the attributes that made me good at my old job seem to have made me bad at connecting with people.
