Page 86 of The Holiday Hate-Off
“I did,” Portia says, grinning at Lucy. “Thank you, Lucy. You get it.”
“It has to be Enzo,” Charlie says.
Lars looks like someone just shoved a hot poker up his ass. Maybe he remembers the time I threatened to maim him if he ever hurt my sister. I sure remember. But I’ve already decided to give him a pass. My sister’s happy. She wanted a break from Hideaway, and she got it. Then there’s Lucy. She probably wouldn’t appreciate it if I maimed her best friend’s future husband.
So, yeah, Lars gets off scot-free as long as he keeps his mouth shut.
“It does,” Lucy says, agreeing with Charlie. “Definitely Enzo.”
“Why?” I ask calmly, meeting Lucy’s gaze. Her eyes are shining with victory, and I’ll be honest. I want to kiss her. I’m almost desperate for it. The way she’s looking at me, like she’s sure she’s won, only makes me want it more.
“Because you had the easiest date. All you had to do was have dinner by yourself.”
“Iamgood company,” I say thoughtfully, while Nico laughs.
“What’s wrong with my shirt?” Giovanni asks, his tonesulky. “Can you really blame me for not wanting to be objectified?”
“No,” Portia says, snorting. “But if you didn’t want to be objectified, you probably shouldn’t have auctioned yourself off. You backed yourself into this corner, and one of you Cafieroswillbe taking his shirt off.”
My brothers both look at me, and Nico says, “Hey, man, I already have to pose for that ice thing, and itwasyour idea.”
I hand my coat to him. Then I watch Lucy as I tug my long-sleeved red T-shirt over my head. The look on her face tells me that even though I lost this round, I might have won anyway.
I toss my shirt to her.
CHAPTER 18
LUCY
I’m still holding Enzo’s shirt, gaping at his well-defined back and the small Trinacria tattoo on his shoulder blade, as he follows Portia into the kitchen. But I’m hardly the only one staring. Every woman in The Sweetest Thing is ogling him, along with some of the men. Who could blame us? Enzo’s back looks positively pornographic. It’s muscular and surprisingly tan given that it’s December in Maine. And then there’s his chest, which is sculpted and beautiful and…
And a couple of days ago he had his head between my legs, and I’ve been thinking about it almost every moment since.
Worse, I’ve been thinking about all the times he’s made me laugh despite myself.
Enzo turns and waves out of the candy kitchen window, smirking at me. Like he knows exactly what’s going through my head and why.
Like he’s won.
No way.Iwon.
I wave the shirt at him like it’s a victory flag, but it smellslike his expensive cologne, and I have the horrible urge to lift it up to my nose for a sniff.
No, I will be strong.
Turning toward Enzo’s brother Giovanni, who looks amused, I shove the shirt at him. “Here. You can hold his sweaty shirt for him.”
“You don’t want it?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow. “You ladies were desperate for him to strip, so I figured you’d want the shirt as a souvenir. You can add it to the scarf. Maybe you’ll have enough to dress a whole snowman someday.”
“Excuse me?” Charlie says, her arms crossed. “Are you implying my friend has an interest in stealing your rude brother’s pants?”
He lifts his hands. “Just making a seasonal joke. No harm intended.”
My cheeks are burning, but I straighten my back. “I didn’t know it was his scarf,” I lie. “It was in the Lost and Found at the Sip.”
He barely suppresses a grin. “Ain’t that a thing. I don’t think he’s been in there since that business with Rachelle.”
“He blessed us with his presence for Santa Speed Dating,” I say sweetly. “Must’ve left it then.”
