Page 59 of Naughty Festivities

That sounded very familiar. Her silly, traitorous heart did that every time she opened the door and Jack was on her doorstep. Only he never gave her too long to count her heartbeats before taking her in his beautiful, powerful arms.

“So, you’re dating my son,” Debbie then said, and Amelia nearly choked on her hot drink.

“No. Nothing like that. We are just friends,” Amelia said, wiping her mouth.

“Jack doesn’t bring friends home.”

Crap.

“It was just circumstantial. We were out skating when you messaged,” she explained, taking the napkin she handed her.

“Ahh, I see.” Amelia could tell she didn’t see by the glint in her eyes. “What do you do, Amelia?”

“I’m an artist,” she said, then added. “Not a struggling one.”

Jack’s mother laughed. “I didn’t think you were in those beautiful Louboutin boots.”

Oh.

The woman knows her shoes.

“I would recognize those red soles anywhere.” She laughed.

“Guilty,” Amelia said, wiggling her foot. “These are my favorites.”

“What did I miss?” Jack said, walking in and rolling down his sleeves.

Unfortunately.

He had the sexiest forearms. Coupled with the shine of sweat on his forehead, which he wiped with his arm, Amelia couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Jack glanced at his mom.

Amelia drifted her gaze to the woman and found her grinning at them. Damn. Talk about busted.

Then again, Amelia never said Jack wasn’t pretty to look at. She had said they weren’t dating.

Technically.

Or they wouldn’t be for much longer if she was forced to put a label on it. But that was not a conversation she was having with the man’s mother.

He’s gorgeous and fantastic in bed, but aside from fucking, it’s not going anywhere.

Yup, that wasn’t happening.

They stayed for another hour chatting, and Amelia couldn’t deny how nice his mother was and how comfortable she made her feel. They had a piece of her homemade Christmas cake before Jack promised to be around early the next morning.

Then they head back towards Amelia’s house, knowing the media would slink around his apartment, waiting for a glimpse of the girl he’d been photographed kissing.

“Thanks for coming with me. Mom appreciated meeting you,” Jack said.

“Jack, she thinks we’re dating.”

“We are, sweetheart.” He kissed the side of her head.

“For a limited time,” Amelia said, leaning into him as the car made its way through the streets.

“When I fly home on the first of January, are you telling me you never want to hear from me again? That you will just forget me and move on?” he asked, grabbing her chin and tilting her face to his.

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