Page 11 of A Wrong Bed Christmas: Ignited\Where There's Smoke

“What would you say if I told you I was attracted to you?”

He held his easy smile, but something in his gaze changed and her body tingled with awareness. “Then I’d say that you’d better keep that on lockdown because things could get awkward.”

She could call his bluff. Alexis knew when a guy was into her. Layton was throwing off signals that a person would have to be blind not to see, but she felt a bit like a predator chasing after a poor doomed gazelle. He was plainly telling her it wasn’t going to happen and she respected that—to a point—but his gaze was also throwing sparks that were bound to catch fire at some point.

Alexis sighed dramatically, leaning casually against the sofa, idly gazing at her injured foot. “Well, the truth of the matter is the fact that I want to give you a tongue bath must mean that somewhere, deep down, you’re defective.”

He startled with a laugh. “I think you just insulted me, but for the life of me all I can think of is that tongue bath.”

“See? It’s hopeless. Let’s be honest, we’re both adults and we’re both attracted to one another. We also both know that we shouldn’t act upon the dirty thoughts in our heads. So...it’s probably best that you go home before something terribly unfortunate happens between us.”

“Unfortunate?”

“Yeah, like all our clothes flying off and landing on the floor.”

He swallowed and she privately delighted in the way the thought made him stutter a little. “Are you always this blunt?”

“Pretty much. My mom says I’ve always suffered from a lack of tact, but my dad says I don’t seem to suffer from it at all.”

Layton laughed with a slight twinkle in his eye that she found highly alluring. “Okay, well, not leaving. I made a promise to Erik that I’d stick around and make sure you stayed off that foot, so you’re just going to have to deal with my company.”

Alexis held his gaze for a moment then shrugged. “Okay, but I can’t be held responsible for what may happen between us.”

“Nothing is going to happen,” he said with amused laughter. “You don’t quit, do you? You’re like a dog with a bone.”

Alexis shrugged. “We’ll see.”

“How about this? You pick the movie and I’ll scramble up some eggs and bacon for breakfast.”

She perked up. The only thing capable of jarring her one-track mind was the introduction of her second favorite distraction: food. “You can cook?”

“A necessary skill when you live with a bunch of other guys several days out of the week. Yes, I can cook. Any requests?”

Oh, how could she not take him up on that offer? She hated to cook but she loved to eat. “A Denver omelet would be fab,” she admitted. “I think we have everything you need in the fridge.”

“Denver omelet coming up,” Layton said, going to the kitchen. “And while I’m making breakfast you can throw out movie ideas.”

On the surface, that sounded well and good, but Alexis didn’t want to sit around the house all day. She spent so much of her time studying that she needed a physical outlet. Her gaze drifted to the window where soft snowflakes fell lazily from the sky. The storm hadn’t hit yet. There was probably just enough time to get the lights up before the snow really started coming down.

Maybe she could convince Layton to help her string the lights? But how to do it was the question.

She wasn’t above using her charm to get what she wanted and she had a feeling Layton wouldn’t mind fresh air...once he realized that spending too much time cuddled up on the sofa wasn’t a good idea, particularly if he was determined to keep things Disney-rated.

Before too long, Layton returned with two plates of omelets and toast, and Alexis’s opinion of her brother’s friend went up a notch.

“Did you pick out a movie?”

“No, I did something better,” she said around a bite of omelet. “Oh, that’s good. You’re a handy guy to have around. Cute, built like a Roman god and can cook? Okay, just level with me, what’s your hidden defect?”

“I have a weakness for pretty, sass-mouthed women,” he admitted wryly as he shoveled in his food.

“How much of a weakness?” she asked, curious.

Layton leveled a wry look her way. “Enough of one. Eat your breakfast.”

“So bossy.”

“Has anyone ever successfully told you what to do?”

She affected a serious expression. “My dad.” But she couldn’t keep a straight face for long, laughing as she said, “But you’re not my dad so don’t even try to boss me around.”

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