Page 69 of The Art of Being Merry
“Sure.” My mind forgets I still have actual work projects to complete and create his ugly sweater, but why can’t I say no to him?
His smile grows ten sizes, and having that effect on him is the reason I can’t say no. What’s a few hours of missed sleep in the next few weeks when it makes him this happy?
“Sweet. Let’s look for supplies while we’re here. I just have torun it by Becks. For the last few years, he’s farmed out the decorations to other people. Your ideas will enhance what’s probably been decided on, but I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.”
It’s admirable how he’s respectful to everyone.
Nope, gotta keep him squarely in the friend zone. Even if it’s friends with benefits, the “friend” moniker needs to be fully in place.
“On an unrelated but related subject, I’m excited to see the parade in action. It helped break Willa’s abhorrence of the holiday. Well, that and your brother.”
“Using the fancy words again.” His chuckle reverberates around the cab.
“Here, it’s necessary.”
When we arrive at the store, he waits for me at the front of the truck to walk next to me. Once inside, he grabs a cart, prepared to push it around the store. I’m so stunned, my feet root to the floor.
He’s a few feet ahead of me, but turns around when he realizes I’m no longer next to him. As he walks back, his expression morphs to concern. “What’s wrong?”
“You’re going to push the cart?”
“Am I not allowed to push the cart or something? I figured you’ll be picking out most things, so I’ll push while you shop.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s smart. It’s just, no one ever offers to do that for me. I didn’t know it was something men did.” I slap my hand on my forehead. Way to go stereotyping him with his entire gender. He’s proven frequently he’s unlike most men I’ve met in my life, so why this is so shocking is beyond me.
Dax narrows his eyes in my direction as he steps closer. “I’m not most men, Clementine. Please be sure to remember that.”
Damn him for getting too close and using a growly voice.
How am I ever going to keep him friend zoned when he does stuff like this?
21
dax
When I thinkI’m not under this woman’s spell, something pulls me back in. Not even something she’s consciously doing. Nope, it’s the essence of Clementine.
The way she’s so surprised when I do nice things for her.
Scratch that. She’s shocked. Stunned, even. As if no other man in her life has gone even a little above and beyond for her.
I haven’t asked much about her ex, but I’ve confirmed he’s a douche who she doesn’t want to talk about. I have to wonder if it’s shame or guilt about her actions rather than his, which I truly hope isn’t the case. I won’t push her to talk about him unless she wants to. He’s not a threat to me.
As I maneuver the cart around the store, wandering through the holiday aisles, she’s animated about every item she puts in the cart, talking to herself about what it’s for and how she’ll use it. It’s adorable, and if we hadn’t already planned on a quickie after this, I’d be begging to take her in the truck if need be.
Yes, I’m that desperate for this woman. I don’t understand it either.
She holds some knit fabric against my chest. “This color will do,” she claims as she puts the entire roll into the cart.
“Do you need that much?” Not that I’m questioning her tactics—it’s evident she knows what she’s doing—but what if someoneelse needs some of this red fabric, too? She’s only making one sweater.
Her hands on her hips, she nails me with a glare. “Have you ever bought fabric like this before?”
“No.”
“Didn’t think so. Want to trust me?” So much sass in one question, I can’t but take action.
Without thinking, I crowd her space, so close her head tips back to peer up at me, the light layer of makeup she wears on full display. My vision falls to her chest, swelling with deeper breaths. Knowing I affect her so strongly is a turn-on. A power trip. Because it’s only fair I’m not the only one affected.
