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Cole For Christmas Page 6


  “Why would she take on a pre-made family if she was with a man who was looking to have one with her? It doesn’t make sense.” I wanted to reach over and drag his hand back to mine. I liked the feel of his warm palm encasing my hand.

  “We didn’t get that far in our talks. I know Becca wanted kids but was scared to death of the whole pregnancy thing. She used three types of birth control to make sure she didn’t end up pregnant. The pill, an IUD, and condoms. A bit overkill, don’t you think? It made me feel like my come was radioactive.” He seemed a bit exasperated by the whole ordeal. The way he described it gave me a picture of Becca suiting up in a Hazmat suit before entering the bedroom. I struggled to hold back a giggle.

  “Now you can look for the woman who wants what you want.” What kind of woman would turn Elias’s head? Would she be high-maintenance and glamorous? A skier with an athletic build? Obviously, he liked to eat, so Becca being a chef had to have been a bonus.

  He looked at me thoughtfully, the way a man looks at something he’s trying to figure out. “What do you want, Cici?” He slid from the booth and helped me stand. With my jacket in his hands, he held it open as I slid my arms inside. He was a gentleman. A rare breed these days.

  “I want it all. I want a husband, a family, and a career.” You. I’d want you. “Unfortunately, I’m getting up in years and the family part is slipping past me.” At thirty I felt I had very few childbearing years left and, with no love interest in sight, things were looking grim in that department.

  “You sound like you’ve given up. Never give up. Love could be around the corner. Keep your eyes open.” He sounded like an ad for a dating website.

  Maybe I needed the book in the bookstore window, Twenty Dates to Love. Oh, who was I kidding? I couldn’t get a real date, let alone twenty. Hell, a man who would make an amazing real boyfriend was hiring me as a fake girlfriend. Life could be so cruel.

  After Elias paid our bill, he guided me to his car. Within fifteen minutes we were at my place. It wasn’t much. I rented a one-room studio, so everything was in one spacious room. Fabric hanging from the ceiling divided the living spaces. It had a bohemian-loft feel to it. Very different from Elias’s mountain home. My entire living space would fit in his great room.

  “This is the coolest place ever.” He walked past me into my living room. I had a sofa, flanked by overstuffed chairs. Panels of draperies hung from the ceiling on three sides. The rich earth tones created a cocoon of sorts. It was cozy and inviting.

  I swelled with pride. This man saw million-dollar homes every day, and he thought my little pad was cool. “Glad you like it. I’ll pack up some things to take to your house. We have to take Jax too.” I pointed to the fishbowl on the coffee table. “Make yourself comfortable while I get ready.”

  I heard the TV click on as soon as I pushed past the curtains into my bedroom space. The unmistakable script of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation played in the background. He was watching the part where Clark was turning on the Christmas lights for the first time.

  I tuned it out and started packing. Would his parents like me? Did it matter? Of course not, this wasn’t real. I would do what was asked of me. And come next week, I’d be looking for another job to pay my bills. Making ends meet week to week and month to month would be my new norm until I could establish myself. I hated to live that way. I’d worked my ass off so I didn’t have to and yet . . .

  I came across my ski pants. “You’re not going to make me ski, are you?” I called from my room, hoping he would say no. I was in no hurry to embarrass myself in front of his family. I wasn’t the cute ski bunny who barreled down the hill and came to a perfect snow-spraying stop. I was the girl whose limbs flailed about while she tried to dodge the ski school and failed, knocking them down like perfectly placed dominoes.

  His voice so close behind me made me jump. “Yes, I’ll get you an instructor to help with your form. It’s one of the perks of your temporary job.”

  I spun around and found him settling in on my bed. I hadn’t heard him approach, but damn he looked good there.

  “Gave up on the Christmas show?” There had to be a reason for his disinterest in Christmas. A reason I planned to squeeze from someone over the next few days. There was no way I could be in a relationship with someone, fake or not, who didn’t absolutely love the holidays.

  “Yes, this seemed more interesting.” He lay on his back and brought his arms up behind his head. He took up two-thirds of my bed.

  “Oh, brother. I can’t believe you’d rather watch me pack my underwear than watch Clark Griswold light up his house.” I began to set my things in piles on the bed.

  “I’d love to see your underwear. We’re a couple, and I’ve never seen them yet. A shame, don’t you think?” He was lying on my bed flirting. Lord, this was going to be a long week.

  I threw my flannel pajamas at his head. “This is as close to my undies as you’re going to get.”

  He held up the flannel PJs decorated with penguins on skis. “Please don’t tell me this is what you wear to bed. No wonder you don’t have a boyfriend. Why would you hide that,” his hand did a perfect Vanna White in front of my body, “in those?” He pointed back to the pajamas I had neatly folded and set on the bed. “You have an incredible body. Show it off.” As soon as he said that, he bit into his bottom lip.

  Embarrassment looked adorable on him. He was this interesting mix of strength and innocence. He also had good taste—he thought I had an incredible body. Imagine that.

  How could I explain my love of flannel? “It’s winter, and it’s cold, and for your information, when I’m in a relationship I don’t wear anything to bed. It’s up to my significant other to keep me warm.” I waited for his face to turn red, but it didn’t. He looked me up and down like he had X-ray vision. Dressed fully, I’d never felt so exposed. Fuck. Me. Don’t look at me like that, Mr. Cole.

  Under his watchful eye, I packed the rest of my clothes, including my ski gear. He loaded my bag into the car while I grabbed my bathroom items. When he returned, he looked at my Charlie Brown tree in the corner and laughed. The man laughed.

  “What? It’s a cute tree.” I tried to slug him in the arm for teasing my tree, but he was too quick. He grabbed my arm and pulled me into his chest. This was the second time he’d hugged me today.

  “It’s a cute something. Not sure if I can call it a tree.” His hand skimmed up and down my back. “Thanks, Cici, for doing this for me. I want to have a great holiday without my parents worrying about me spending the rest of my life alone.”

  “You’re welcome. I can’t wait to meet your family. They are obviously important enough for you to go to the extreme.” I swear he brushed his lips against my hair. My scalp tingled where I imagined his lips touched.

  “I’ll grab your presents from under the tree. We’ll bring them to the house.” He separated himself from me and walked to the little decorated branch in the corner. He was only ten feet away, but I felt the loss the minute he let me go. His presence hugged me, and his absence hollowed me.

  His muscles flexed as he piled the presents into his arms. It hadn’t occurred to me to take the gifts along, but I’m glad he thought of it. My mom would be calling Christmas morning to see if I liked whatever she’d made.

  Whatever it was, I would cherish it, as she would have put hours of love into what she’d created. By the weight of the box, I’d bet it was a hat, a scarf, or something I could wear.

  Over my shoulder, I looked at my home. Despite its tiny size, I was proud of my apartment. Proud of my accomplishment to stay despite the challenges in finding work. It hadn’t been easy, but I felt I’d found my independence.

  Jax sloshed in the bowl I carried to my car. I expected to spend my first Christmas in Colorado alone. Instead, I was heading up the mountain to pretend I was the cherished girlfriend of a handsome man, trying to please his family. I wished Elias Cole was mine.

  Chapter 6

  The smell of coffee woke me
from my deep sleep. I was tucked in the pillow-top mattress of Elias’s guest room bed. It had been tough falling asleep with him so close.

  The air crackled with energy, and I was no longer alone. Elias stood above me shirtless in his flannel pajama bottoms. Had I died and gone to Chippendales?

  “You need to wake up. We have to leave in an hour. The housekeeper is downstairs. She’ll take care of your bed. It’s sheet cleaning day.” He placed a cup of steaming coffee on the nightstand next to the bowl where Jax happily swam. “I can make tea if you prefer. Just thought you might need the hit of caffeine.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever had someone bring me coffee in bed. This was a morning ritual I could get used to.

  Self consciously, I ran my fingers through my hair knowing my curls would be everywhere. I wasn’t ready for him to see me like this. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. His naked chest silenced me. The man obviously worked out. I was tempted to reach up and touch the curly hairs sprinkled across his chest. Would they be soft or prickly? My fingers were itching to know, but I refrained. Too intimate.

  “Thanks, coffee is perfect,” I whispered from behind the hand I placed in front of my mouth. No sense in accosting him with morning breath. My eyes traveled down his torso to rest on his red plaid pants. “And you gave me a hard time about my flannels?”

  Inching up against the headboard, I settled against the soft fabric and took in the sight in front of me. A shadow of whiskers took away his boyish looks and replaced them with a roguishly handsome man.

  “I don’t normally wear anything, Cici, but I thought you might appreciate it if I covered up.”

  “Don’t think so hard next time.” Holy shit. I just gave him permission to visit me nude. What was I thinking?

  The sound of his laughter filled my room while he walked toward the door. The red plaid of his pajamas hugged the perfect globes of his perfect ass. An ass I’d love to get my hands on.

  The covers fell from the bed when I tossed them to the side. I had to get a grip on myself. This week would be a disaster if I continued to fawn over him like a lovesick teenager. Or maybe that would work in my favor. My attraction to him would certainly play into our whole couple charade. I wouldn’t need to feign interest. I was genuinely interested in the man. I just wished we had met under different circumstances.

  Problem number one: I worked for him. That was a firm no-go in my new rulebook. Number two: he wasn’t genuinely interested in me. He was paying me to pretend. Number three: his aversion to the holiday season. If we were a real couple it would be like setting Mary Poppins up with Voldemort. That combination would never work.

  After I showered and dressed, I made my way down the stairs to the kitchen. I only needed to follow the trail of his cologne to know where he was. Wouldn’t he be stunned to know that his cologne reminded me of a Christmas pomander? He was a walking Christmas symbol. When I closed my eyes, I could see the oranges wrapped in ribbon and studded with cloves hanging from his Christmas tree. I breathed deeply to inhale the scent of him.

  “Good morning.” His deep voice vibrated through my body. Words slipped from his lips like warm pudding. Sweet. Smooth. Full of temptation. “You look beautiful.”

  “You don’t have to start with your act yet, but I like where you’re going.” I twirled my finger through a curl and let it spring back into place. His words were downright delectable, and I only hoped I could perform as well.

  “No act. You look beautiful. I’ve only seen you with your hair pulled up on top of your head. This morning it was everywhere. It’s lovely.” He reached out and pulled a curl through his fingers. I found myself leaning in toward his hand. He reciprocated by cupping my cheek. It felt so natural. So real or was that surreal?

  “Thank you. You are looking quite handsome yourself.” He was dressed in gray slacks and a lighter gray button-down shirt. No tie. Collar open. On his feet were the Italian leather loafers I’d chastised him about a few days ago. Had it really only been four days? It seemed like a lifetime.

  On the counter was an array of pastries and yogurts. I don’t remember seeing those in the refrigerator, but then again it’s not like I’d been living here. He must have gone shopping. With a strawberry yogurt in my hand, I sat at the granite island in the same chair I’d sat in when he’d made me an omelet. He took the chair next to me.

  “Are you nervous?” He pulled the yogurt from my hand and stripped the foil lid free.

  Was I nervous? “I’m meeting your parents, how could I not be?” It didn’t matter our relationship was fabricated, I was still meeting his parents, and therefore I was a tad apprehensive. I’d still be scrutinized. The one thing I knew about parents was no one was ever good enough for their kid. They would be judging me first as his girlfriend and second as a human being, and I hoped I passed on at least the second category.

  “They’ll love you. In fact, that’s going to be the real problem. They’ll love you, and then they’ll hate me for breaking up with you.”

  “Why not just tell them the truth?” I understood his need to please his family, but this was his life, and if his family was as close as I assumed, they would understand that shit happens. Including breakups with unfortunate timing.

  “Grab your coat, and I’ll explain in the car. We have to get on the road.” He helped me into my jacket and guided me into the garage where a tiny older woman was unloading groceries from her car. Now I knew where the food had come from. He introduced me to his housekeeper, Sara, and we were on our way.

  “She seems nice.” I was happy to see so many bags in the car. I hadn’t thought about what his family would eat while they were visiting. “Does she always shop for you?” He had mentioned going out a lot, so I simply figured that was the plan.

  “Pretty much.” He made no excuses for having help. It was a perk of having money.

  “How does she know what to get?” I wondered if they had a system. Did he email her? Was there a standing order she kept ready and waiting for when he arrived?

  “I usually email her a list. Although this time Becca did. I’m glad she at least completed that task.”

  “It’s a good thing. We certainly weren’t thinking about food, were we?” He turned his head briefly, and I got a glimmer of something in his eye. It resembled mischievousness, and I wondered what he was thinking.

  He reached over and took my hand in his. His thumb rubbed my knuckles in the most sensuous way. I nearly melted into his heated leather seat. “Seeing you in those sexy flannels this morning had me thinking all kinds of thoughts.” He slowly pulled his moist tongue across his lower lip. “I was thinking about my grandmother and how you two could shop together.” He let go of my hand and slapped the steering wheel in rhythm with his laughter.

  “You’re awful. And, obviously, your grandmother has impeccable taste. I’d love to meet her.”

  “She’s dead.”

  “Shit, Elias. I’m sorry.” He tapped the steering wheel harder while he cracked up beside me. That’s when I reached over and punched him.

  “Ouch.” He rubbed at his arm while his laughter subsided. “You’re too easy. I couldn’t resist. Anyway, my grandmother is alive and well. She lives in Pasadena. She teaches water aerobics at the YMCA. She’ll outlive us all.”

  “I think I hate you. You’re a mean man.” I glared out the window and watched the landscape whiz by. The snow-flocked trees created the perfect winter wonderland.

  “Hey, love, are we having our first argument? If so let’s get it finished so we can make up. We’re only twenty minutes from the airport. Can’t have us at odds just yet.”

  I wanted to reach over and punch him again, but I settled for a growl.

  “You said you would explain to me why this was so important. You better come up with a compelling reason, or I might decide to leave you.” His face went from a hundred watts down to twenty. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know anymore.

  “The long and short of it is I used to love the holidays. Then
seven years ago, I planned to propose to my girlfriend. We had been together throughout college. I took her to my parents for Christmas. I put the ring under the tree. When she opened the box she cried, and I thought it was a good thing. Nope. She turned me down flat. Said I was fine for playing not for staying. She dumped me in front of my family. She took off that afternoon and joined a cruise ship staff so she could see the world.”

  Oh shit. “You better not be messing with me again, Elias. If I find out you’re lying, I’ll slug you so hard you’ll feel it in your other arm.” I fisted up, ready to swing if he laughed. No laughter came.

  “This time I’m serious. She broke my heart. Ruined Christmas for me and swore me off relationships. Now, Becca.”

  I wanted to climb across the console and hold him. Why did people have to be so cruel? Especially around the holidays. I never understood.

  “Becca is a total fool. She’ll be back once she realizes what an imbecile she was. What’s not to love about you? You’re hella-sexy, and you’re successful. You obviously take your family commitments seriously, and you have a great . . .” I almost said ass, but I thought better of it. “Personality.”

  “I’m hella what?”

  I lowered my head in embarrassment. Maybe I should have just blurted the ass part out. Honestly, it was true, and now I had to confess the sexy part, why not get it all out. But I didn’t. I whispered, “sexy.”

  When I looked up to see his wide grin, he reached for my hand and squeezed it, and my heart, at the same time.

  “We are going to have a wonderful holiday, Chloe Lou Who. You are my Christmas angel.”

  We pulled into the airport parking lot. Elias ran around the SUV and helped me out into the frigid winter air. Instead of pulling me toward the terminal, he pulled the collar of my jacket up around my ears and leaned down and kissed me square on the lips. Something about the kiss was so sweet and earnest. Many women had let Elias down around the holidays. I wouldn’t be one of them. I like this man.