Page 205 of Santa Daddies
“I didn’t really think of it as lying. Just being polite.”
“I know you just met me, but do I seem like the type of person who cares about being polite?”
“Um, no, you don’t.”
“That’s right. I don’t. Rather have honesty than some bullshit politeness. Got it?”
“Got it.”
She was starting to get warm so she drew off her jacket before she began to sweat.
Yeah, you’re sweating because of the heat. Not because you’re worried about the next thing you’ll do wrong.
A groan escaped him as she slid her jacket off. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Alarm filled her. Was he ill? Was he in pain?
“You’re one of them.”
Alice blinked at him. “One of them?”
“A Christmas person.”
Oh. A Christmas person? What did he mean? She glanced down at her knitted sweater. It was red with a green Christmas tree on the front of it. There were foil baubles hanging off the tree. It was cute and adorable.
Not everyone could pull off the color red. But Alice had dark hair and a pale complexion that popped when she wore red.
George had liked her in black.
He’d never let her wear a Christmas sweater either. Alice nearly took it off, not wanting to offend her host.
However, she was getting kind of tired of changing herself so that everyone around her could be more comfortable.
Maybe once in a while someone else could adapt so that she was more comfortable?
Don’t be selfish, Alice.
Always thinking of yourself. Never of others. That’s not being a good friend. Or a good wife, now, is it?
She reached for the hem of the sweater.
“Whoa, what are you doing?” he demanded.
“Taking it off.”
“Why?”
Okay, now she was confused. He seemed upset that she was wearing a Christmas sweater and now he seemed upset that she was taking it off?
What the heck did this man want from her?
“Because it seems to upset you.”
He huffed. “Don’t like Christmas.”
“I figured that out,” she said. Then she bit her lip.
Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Alice.
When the hell would George get out of her head?
