Page 20 of Screwing With The Scrooge

He pulls on his shoes, and I head for the front door. I’m about to pull the door open when a hand grabs my elbow and I’m spun around to face a grumpy-looking Xavier.

“What?” I ask, and he grabs his winter jacket.

“It’s freezing. You can’t go out in just my shirt.”

He holds the jacket open for me and I pause.

“I wore my coat last night,” I remind him.

“I know, but mine is warmer and since I don’t have time to go warm the truck up for you,” he says, wiggling the coat at me.

I smile as I turn and stuff my arms in. It’s sweet that he’s looking out for me, that he wants to take care of me. It’s been a while since I had that.

He zips the zipper up to my chin and then nods.

“Let’s go.”

He takes my hand as we head for the front door, and I smile, letting him lead me over to his truck. He opens my door for me, and I take the time to lean up on my toes and press my mouth to his.

“What was that for?” He asks as he grabs my hips and lifts me into his truck.

I’ve got to say; I can see why all of the heroines in my romance books love being manhandled by their men.

“Do I need a reason to kiss you?” I ask him, and he smiles softly.

“Nope.”

I laugh as he closes the door and rounds the hood. He cranks the truck up, and I bury my face in his shirt, breathing in his woodsy scent.

“What are you doing today?” I ask him as we head towards town.

It’s still early and the roads are mostly deserted.

“I need to clean up the disaster that was dinner last night,” he says, and I laugh.

“I’m sure that it would have been great. I just distracted you.”

“You’ve been doing that since you got to town,” he admits, and I beam, looking over at him.

He’s wearing his own shirt and sweatpants combo, but he fills his out a lot better than I do.

We pull up in front of the bakery a minute later and for the first time since I opened MasterBeaters, I wish that I didn’t have to go to work.

“I’ll see you later?” I ask, and he nods.

“Yeah.”

I wish that we had a date set up, but I know that I need to get inside so I wave and hurry out of the truck. Xavier is halfway around the front of the truck and he sighs as I slam the door closed.

“I’ll get your door from now on,” he says, and I grin.

“Every door?” I ask with a laugh, and he doesn’t answer me.

Instead, he just silently walks over to the bakery door and grips the handle. I pass him the key and he unlocks the door and holds it open for me, dropping my keys in my palm as I pass.

“Thanks,” I say, and he nods.

I almost slip in my heels as I hurry behind the counter. Luckily, I prepped a lot of things last night so I shouldn’t be too late on opening.

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