Page 212 of Santa Daddies
“Is there anything I can do while I’m here? Housework? Cooking?”
Anson eyed her for a long moment. “You’re not my housekeeper or my cook.”
“Yes, but I’m staying here. Oh, shall I pay you?”
“Pay me?” he whispered.
Uh-oh. She had a feeling that she might have offended his mountain man sensibilities.
“I . . . I . . . yes.”
“You are not paying me, understand?”
She nodded frantically, her heart racing. Sheesh.
“You’re cooking, you can make me some extra but you don’t need to cook for me. Keep your room and bathroom tidy, pick up after yourself. But you’re not here to clean. We clear?”
“Crystal,” she said, taking a step back. “I think I’ll just go . . . do some . . . work.”
Anson watched her practically run from the room with a sigh.
Fuck.
Could you be more of an asshole?
He didn’t mean to be. It was just . . . pay him? He shook his head.
There was something about her that roused his protective instincts. Maybe it was something to do with how jumpy and nervous she was.
It made him wonder if she’d always been like that.
Or if someone had taught her to be.
Alice startled at the knock on her door.
She glanced over at the time, blinking in shock. It was after six. How had it gotten so late? She’d been here for two nights now. She’d spent most of that time in her room, working.
“Alice, come out. Now.”
She rolled her eyes at his bossy command. Then she grimaced. She was being rude.
“Coming!” she called out.
Getting up, she walked over to the mirror in the bathroom and let out a small squeal of shock.
She looked terrible. She brushed her shoulder-length hair and washed her face before finding the courage to leave the room.
As she walked into the living room the smell of food made her stomach grumble. When was the last time she’d eaten?
Yesterday, she’d snuck out to get snacks and brought them back to her room. But today she’d gotten so involved in her book that she couldn’t remember eating at all.
“Something smells nice,” she said.
“I cooked. Sit. Eat.”
“You’ve very bossy,” she told him.
He settled into a chair at the dining table with a grimace. “I’ve been told that. I also don’t like to repeat myself.”
