Page 41 of Knot what I want for Christmas
“Oh, yeah, sure,” I say.
Annie snatches the fork from my hand and slides the plate toward her.
“It’s really good,” I say. “I’m going to have to get the recipe.”
Clay says nothing. He’s still staring at me. And because that’s really intense, I start blabbing in the way I always do when a handsome man captures me in his gaze. Not that that’s ever happened before.
“My mom used to make apple pie. She got the recipe from her mom, who got it from her mom, who got it from her mom. And she taught me how to make it. It’s possibly the best apple pie ever,” I say.
“I’d like to try that,” Clay says.
Annie almost chokes on her mouthful. “What’s happened to you, Clay Jackson?” she says.
“Nothing.” He picks up his mug and takes a long swig of coffee as he sits back in his chair. “I’ve always liked apple pie.”
Annie offers me up the last remaining piece of the wild berry pie, and I gobble it up, finishing my hot chocolate, trying not to notice the way the Alpha is still staring at me. When I’m finished, I have to admit I feel just a little bit queasy.
“I need to eat a ton of carrots now,” I say, “and lettuce. I actually feel quite sick.”
“You’re not going to vomit on me again, are you?” Clay asks – although he says it with just a hint of a smile that makes me think … is he flirting with me?
“You better sit in the front seat, then,” Annie says, wiping her mouth on the napkin. “Otherwise, Clay’s driving is likely to make you vomit.”
“I drive a hell of a lot better than you do, Annie. And I’ve never run my truck into the ground.”
“Your truck is like a year old,” Annie says. “Mine is over 20.”
“Yeah, and not moving anywhere today, is it?” he says, thumbing in the direction of the two trucks parked out front.“Anyway, better get going.” He peers over his shoulder. “Snow’s getting heavier.”
Chapter Thirteen
Clay
There’s something about having Hollie Bright riding beside me in my truck that’s sending all of my Alpha instincts into somersaults, or maybe that’s just her scent, thick and rich and sweet as hell this afternoon. She also looks incredibly cute, all wrapped up in her thick winter coat. Cheeks rosy from the cold. Eyes wide as she watches the heavy snow falling all around us.
“How can you see?” she asks me for possibly the tenth time.
I want to remind her that Alphas have good eyesight, that our senses are heightened when there’s an Omega in our presence, especially an Omega we have a desire to protect, but my little sister’s sitting in the back of the cab, eyes boring into the back of my neck. So I just tell her, “Well practiced, done this hundreds and hundreds of times. Trust me.”
“Oh, I trust you,” she blurts out. I turn my head to glance at her “I just wouldn’t want to do it myself.”
I force my gaze back to the windshield, which is becoming increasingly more difficult because all I want to do is sitand watch this girl. She’s mesmerizing, entrancing. So darn beautiful.
I have a desire to tell her all that. I think I must be high on the sugar from the wild berry pie. Or maybe that’s just her scent. Yet again.
Shit, I need to get my head together. Stop acting like a damn fool. I grip the steering wheel more tightly as if to steady myself.
“Can’t we have some music or something?” my sister says from the back of the cab. “I know you hate music, and fun in general, but it is Christmas.”
“He needs to concentrate,” Hollie says, sticking up for me and taking my side for once, sending a strange sensation fluttering in my chest.
“Would you like some music, Hollie?” I ask her, making my sister huff and flop back on her seat, arms crossed grumpily across her chest.
“Shall I see what I can find?” She turns the knob on my radio. It crackles and murmurs, the snow impacting the reception. But finally she finds a station, and it’s playing the usual Christmas jingles.
“I love this one,” Hollie says, smiling brightly now and sending more of those crazy sensations tumbling in my body.
She hums along to the tune and it takes all the willpower I have not to skid us off the road, to cut the engine and to pull the woman into my lap. The drive takes forever, and that is nothing to do with the conditions of the road. It’s torturous. How the hell am I meant to get through the next few days? I knew it would be tough. I figured that much out after we picked her up at the airport. But it’s definitely getting tougher. I’m going to have to find excuses to avoid the house. I’m going to have to find work that needs doing on the far side of our land. I need to stay out of this woman’s path.
