Page 6 of Silver Santa

“Let’s get her that tea. I know the perfect blend.” I pressed the main floor button. “The last thing we want is her suffering during Christmas.”

My face softened, and her shoulders relaxed.

“You don’t know what’s wrong with her?”

“No, she mentioned nuggets from last night and food poisoning.”

My nostrils flared. I unconsciously loosened my collar and cracked my knuckles. Food poisoning at this lodge was unacceptable. The elevator dinged and opened its doors.

“I have the perfect remedy for whatever’s ailing her. And if she gets worse, we’ll call a doctor.” I stepped into the Christmas themed elevator and motioned for her to join me. The sound of festive jingle bells played over the speakers.

Fucking food poisoning?

“What’s wrong? You don’t like Christmas decorations?”

I caught the reflection of my anger in the mirrored wall.

“No, it’s not that. I don’t like spoiled food at my resort, and I don’t like your friend getting sick. Now, let’s grab that tea and get you back to enjoying your evening with me.”

Her breath hitched again. “That was smooth.”

I winked her way. “Thanks, I try.”

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened. I walked alongside her to the lounge and ordered a Silver emergency blend before guiding her to the cushioned seats near the fireplace. Laura glanced around, anxious.

“What about your daughter? Won’t she be wondering where you are?” Her eyes lit up with curiosity.

I shook my head in response. “Daughter?” I never mentioned Kensi.

“The one in a fluffy jacket and Wookie boots.” She gave me an innocent smile, and I let out an amused chuckle.

“I was unaware you do comedy for a living, Ms. Young.”

She laughed. “My apologies. That was quite rude of me. Both twins looked like your type.”

I laughed harder; Cece and Candy weren’t my type at all. My life was my family, health, and work, leaving no room for a partner.

“She could easily be your daughter.” She tilted sideways, crossed one leg over the other, and leaned back in her chair. My eyes followed the length of her toned legs. The dress complimented her figure.

I looked her over and lifted an eyebrow. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

I caught her staring at the silver streak in my hair—a genetic trait shared by me and my brothers since birth—that hinted at my true age. The light stubble over my chin didn’t help.

“How old are you?” She bit her lip, then hastily added, “I told you mine, so it’s only fair—”

“Thirty-four.”

Her lips formed a perfect ‘O,’ which made me imagine us in a different position. Alone. By the fireplace. Her on her knees with her beautiful mouth wide open, looking up.

Laura looked me over before her gaze flew back to my groin, where I was hard.How could I not be?She was everything a man could want.

I watched as she fought to swallow. “That’s not old.”

“I’m glad you think so, but I still can’t imagine you policing the streets. You’re young, and experience takes time. Do they even train you for the real world?”

She laughed and waved her hand. “Nah, they just let us go wild.” However, when she bit her lip and took a deep breath, I could tell she was pulling my leg.

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