“You keep telling yourself that, Nash.” She smiled, a sad sort of thing, grabbed her purse, and disappeared into the night.
Nash glanced around the bar. Did everyone in the place think he had a thing for his bartender?
By midnight, with the hockey game long over, his customers buoyed by a win and Blackwell’s shutout, Nash called a cab for the last of them and told Tiny to call it a night. Cam was stacking chairs in the back, and Honey was restocking the coolers behind the bar.
He could leave. Head home, crack open a beer, and sit under the stars in his hot tub. But he didn’t want to. Not yet. A strange kind of exhilaration pulsed through him. He’d had a long day working on his house and a full shift here, but he wasn’t anywhere near tired.
He and Honey were going to have that conversation because there were some things he needed cleared up, and he was looking forward to getting some answers.
He grabbed the till and headed toward his office. “Cam, lock up on your way out. You know the code. And Honey? In my office. Now.”
She gave him a look that wasn’t exactly friendly. “If you think you can talk to me like I’m a naughty five-year-old, you’ve been drinking the wrong kind of Kool-Aid, my friend.”
“I’m not your friend, remember?” He kept moving. “Get your butt in my office, or I’ll come upstairs later. You decide.”
She took her sweet-ass time. Nash had finished counting the till and receipts and was just about to lock his office and head up to her apartment when she sauntered in and flopped onto the overstuffed plaid chair directly in front of him. She leaned back, crossed her legs over the side of the chair and began to bounce her foot.
“What’s up, Booker?”
She was doing it again. Trying to control a situation she had no right controlling. It was about time he took Honey Harrison down a peg.
Or two.
“I pulled your job application.” He reached for the paperwork he’d dug out earlier. “There’s a lot you didn’t fill out.”
The foot bouncing stopped.
Nash pushed the form across the desk along with a pen. “I didn’t call your references when you applied for this job.” His eyes narrowed. “Which was good for you, because two of them aren’t in service, if they ever were, and the Rockin’ Rooster never heard of you.”
She shrugged, a slow, languid gesture meant to show indifference. But he knew better. She couldn’t hide the heat that crept across her cheeks or the pulse that beat wildly at her neck.
“You want to explain?”
She ignored his question with one of her own. “Are you firing me?” she asked slowly.
“Are you going to answer the question?”
“I needed the job, so I made shit up.” She paused. “Are you going to fire me?”
What the hell was this girl hiding? And why did she get under his skin so damn much? She’d been a lone wolf since she’d arrived in Crystal Lake. He recognized the type. She wasn’t sticking around. So why did he care?
A smart man would tell her to pack her bags and leave.
“I should fire you. I don’t like working with people I don’t trust.” He leaned back in his chair and pinned his dark eyes on her. “I heard you asked Hudsy for money.”
She sat up straight in the chair, eyes flashing, the pulse at her neck ramping up like crazy. “The community support center needed money, and the Blackwells have a lot of it.” She thrust her chin forward. “It’s really none of your business.”
He’d touched on a sore spot. Nash didn’t know what to think. On one hand, he admired anyone who volunteered their time to help others. From what he’d been told, Honey was making a big difference to more than few teens at the youth center. But she was hiding something. She’d lied and misrepresented herself. And now she was tangled up with the Blackwells? Something wasn’t right. But the only way to figure out what that something was, was to keep her close.
“You work for me. You are my business.”
“You think because we had sex, you have a right to ask me about what I do on my days off?” Her eyes flashed.
“I don’t care what you do on your days off, Honey. I care about my friends and this town. If you want to keep your job, tread lightly.” The threat was subtle, but he got his point across. He got to his feet and grabbed his jacket, walking around his desk until he was inches from her. She stood in response, her scent filling his nose, her body heat licking his skin.
He realized, fully, in that moment, Honey was no good for him. If he went down this road, things wouldn’t end well. “You’re right about one thing. We’re not friends, and I don’t see us moving in that direction. As for the sex thing, you don’t need to worry about that either. The other night was a one-off. It didn’t mean anything, and it won’t happen again.”
She made a sound of disgust. “I wouldn’t let you touch me if you were the last man on the planet.” She glared at him, the air between them practically sizzling with energy. Nash felt it. His gaze slowly dropped to her T-shirt, and within seconds, the outline of her nipples showed.
“I think you would,” he replied, a dangerous tone in his voice. “But with three or four billion of us, I guess we’ll never find out.”
He pocketed his cell and pulled out his keys. “Next time you want to switch a shift, you go through me.” He headed for the door and didn’t bother with a good-night.
Which was probably a good thing on account of the fact Honey gave him the one-finger salute on his way out.
11
There weren’t many things the folks of Crystal Lake took more seriously than Christmas—whether you were Christian or not. There was something magical about a northern town covered in snow, with beautiful forests, lakes, and mountains as a backdrop, to make a person love Christmas. Everyone was in a good mood. Honey had never seen so many smiles or heard so many “Merry Christmases.” She’d never served so many red sangrias with peppermint to overly tipsy women intent on figuring out what their significant other got them for Christmas.
It was relentless.
Though Honey, being the cynic she was, had a different take. She thought that maybe the cash registers that rang constantly in the shops and hotels and resorts in the area had something to do with it. Cash would put a smile on most anyone’s face. Crystal Lake was filled with out-of-towners who’d come to this magical place to celebrate the holidays with their families, to ski and snowmobile and even ice fish. It made it hard for the locals to get in and out of the grocery store without waiting in line for twenty minutes. Or to get from one end of town to the other without being late for an appointment.
So they grumbled about that, but they sure as heck loved the tourist dollars.
She was sick of the endless Christmas parties and good cheer, and dammit, if Alex Benton tried to kiss her under the mistletoe one more time, she’d knee him in the junk so hard, he wouldn’t be able to see straight for a week. If that wasn’t bad enough, she’d lost count of the times Susie and a few others asked who she had for secret Santa. Seriously. It was secret for a reason. Didn’t get people get that?
She looked at the gift in her hands, a small box wrapped in red-and-black plaid—very masculine—and then glanced through the windshield at the house she’d just parked in front of. It was December twentieth, and the Coach House had closed early because the staff had been invited to Nash’s place for a Christmas party of their own.
Since that night in his office, he’d been civil—pleasant, even—and it had gotten old about two days in. She didn’t like nice Nash. Or bland Nash. Or the Nash who said “excuse me” when he passed by and nothing else.
Honey sighed and, before she could change her mind, got out of the car. She heard music and voices, and took a few moments to appreciate the beauty of his spot. The house overlooked the lake, and with the moon shining down, it was picture-postcard perfect. He’d salted the stone path that led to the house, and she walked briskly to the door, then paused for a second or two before heading inside.
/> She’d never been to Nash’s place, and she wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting. But it sure as hell wasn’t this. The cottage was older, that was evident from the style, but the inside had been completely redone with gleaming hardwood, stainless steel, granite, and fixtures more on the industrial side. It was pulled together with simple furniture that was neutral in color and looked comfortable. A massive Christmas tree in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows sparkled with twinkling lights and hundreds of decorations and a few wrapped presents underneath. Stockings hung from the fireplace, and the smell of pine and Christmas filled her nose. Tiny and the kitchen staff were gathered around the tree, chatting, laughing, and drinking. Some of the servers were nearby, bobbing along to a rocking Christmas soundtrack. And Susie, the young bartender, was desperately trying to get Cam’s attention.
The entire scene was domestic and homey and the total opposite of the bachelor pad she’d expected. She glanced around and found Nash’s dark eyes on her. He leaned against the granite countertop, looking casual in a pair of faded jeans and—her eyes widened—the ugliest Christmas sweater she’d ever seen. It looked as if he’d pinned a felt advent calendar to a tattered green sweater that was falling apart at the seams. She couldn’t help it. A small smile tugged at her mouth, and she crossed the room, dropping her present on the counter as she eyed him up.
He hadn’t shaved in a few days, and his shadowed jaw gave him a dangerous, sexy edge that would make any woman’s heart stop. So, wasn’t Honey’s fault that hers skipped a beat or two. Her stomach rolled over, her cheeks heated up, and she hated the way her body betrayed her. Couldn’t she just be normal around him? Why in hell did she react this way?
“Didn’t think you’d show,” he said slowly, straightening and grabbing the beer he’d been nursing.
“Why wouldn’t I?” she retorted, tugging off her jacket and setting it on one of the barstools.
He shrugged but didn’t reply, his gaze moving from her to the group in front of the tree.
Great. They were still in the polite zone. Honey wasn’t sure how long she could stand it. She opened her mouth to say something, but Susie jumped in before she could. Which was probably a good thing, because anything Honey would have said wouldn’t have been polite.
“Time for the gift exchange.” Susie practically pranced around the tree. “Now that Honey’s here.”
Tiny swung around, his massive shoulders nearly taking out the young bartender. A wide smile broke open on his face, and he moved toward Honey, enveloping her in a big hug that could have snapped her in two, if he’d been so inclined.
“There she is,” Tiny said, stepping back. He looked her over with a critical eye. “You are disturbed, you know that, right? It’s Christmas. The land of candy canes and marshmallow, and—”
“This isn’t a scene from Elf,” Honey said with a frown.
“Figures that’s what you think of when you think of Christmas.” Tiny shook his head, his gaze glued to her shirt.
She looked down at her plain white T-shirt. She hadn’t had time to look for an ugly sweater, and instead, she’d drawn a stick family surrounding a Charlie Brown tree, which was on fire.
“It’s creative, don’t you think?”
“It’s something, all right,” Tiny said with a smile. “You want some eggnog?”
She didn’t get a chance to reply as Susie was digging into the presents.
“Time for Secret Santa,” the young woman squealed, tossing a large box to Tiny. Honey got herself a cup of eggnog, content to watch from the sidelines. Nash sat on the edge of the sofa, his back to Honey, and she was able to watch the shenanigans without being observed. She slowly sipped the eggnog as each person opened their secret Santa gift. When her name was called, Honey accepted a small package and took her time opening it. Nestled in a gold box was a beautifully carved ornament, two white doves, their wings touching each other in flight. It was delicate and beautiful, and it kind of took her breath away.
There was no note—it was secret Santa, after all—and she thanked “whoever it was” and put the small ornament into her purse.
“Where’s Nash’s?” Susie searched through the presents under the tree, and Honey set down her cup. Shit. She glanced back at the box she’d brought in with her.
Honey grabbed it and, with a small shrug, handed it over to Nash. “So much for the secret part.”
“I’m touched,” he said dryly.
“Just open the damn thing.”
Cheeks pink again, this time with embarrassment, she scooped up her cup and took a step back, aware that everyone was watching their boss open his gift. A gift they all knew was from Honey. She didn’t do well with attention, and she pretty much wanted to die.
He tore off the ribbon and carefully peeled back the fancy wrapping paper. He stared down at the item in his hands while Susie and some of the other girls clamored to know what it was. He held it up, and everyone laughed. The black tie was shiny, and the pink Wonder Woman design was bold.
He looked at Honey, and she cleared her throat. “It’s because of the, ah…” An image of him and Tink flashed in her mind.
“I know,” he replied, looping the tie loosely around his neck.
“Because of the what?” Susie asked with a giggle. She’d obviously had more than her share of eggnog.
Nash ignored the young woman. Instead, he pulled out a tray of eats and set the large platter on the table. Someone turned up the music, and within a few minutes, an impromptu dance party was rockin’ in the middle of Nash’s place.
“You don’t dance?” Cam asked, sidling up alongside Honey. She was off to the side, a wall at her back, the exit in plain view. She glanced up at him, a little annoyed—she’d been enjoying the scenery without the talking.
“Not unless I’m drunk.”
“Well then,” Cam said. “I guess I’m going to have to get you drunk.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“What? The drinking or the dancing?”
“Both.”
Cam laughed. “You’re no fun.”
Honey took another sip of eggnog. “You and Nash seem to be getting along.”
Cam shrugged. “He’s not being a dick, if that’s what you call getting along.”
Honey grimaced. There must be something wrong with her, because she preferred Nash being a dick to the vanilla sort of relationship they now had. At least when he was being a dick, she felt like he knew she was alive.
By the time midnight rolled around, the boisterous party was well underway, and it took some convincing for the revellers to head home. The large limo bus that had deposited them hours earlier was waiting outside. Cam had left an hour ago. He’d received a text message and split—leaving only Honey to help clean up.
“You’re okay to drive?” Nash asked as he closed the door behind Tiny and the rest of the crew.
“I had one eggnog. I’m fine.”
“You can head out,” Nash said, piling platters and dishes up onto the counter. “I got this.”
Honey should have left. That would have been the smart thing to do. But she couldn’t leave Nash with this mess. At least, that was what she told herself. If she were being honest, the thought of heading home to an empty apartment wasn’t exactly appealing.
If she were being super honest, she also hated the strain between her and Nash. It was the holidays, after all, and maybe it was time for her to swallow her pride and admit that she may have been a bit dramatic after their hookup.
“It’s fine,” she said. “I’ll help with this and go.”
Nash didn’t say anything. He shrugged and got down to the business of tossing leftover food in the garbage and washing up serving trays. While he did that, Honey vacuumed and mopped. Less than thirty minutes later, the place sparkled, though Nash was decidedly grumpy.
He’d not said one word to her, and she was beginning to think the entire exercise was futile. He disappeared upstairs to what she assumed was his bedroom—without so much
as a thank-you—and just as she was gathering her things, he reappeared in a low-slung bathing suit. Seriously. The damn thing looked like it was about to fall off, and the impressive amount of skin and muscle and skin and abs and…well, it made Honey’s mouth water.
Nash Booker was hands down the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. He had that something that made a woman look twice. That something that made a woman think of sex. That something that made a woman’s lady parts roar to life.
He looked at her, and she saw what he’d been hiding all night. Naked, hot, sensual desire. Their eyes held, and she felt like an electric shot punched through her, firing up every single cell in her body.
He didn’t smile. Didn’t wink or make any kind of gesture. He grabbed a couple beers from the fridge and headed for the deck. “Nice night for a hot tub.”
That was it. All he said. The door banged shut behind him, and the cold air that swept in felt wonderful on her heated skin. Honey should have left. She should have run for her car and hightailed it back to Crystal Lake and the safety of her apartment. That would have been the smart thing to do.
But she didn’t.
Her breathing escalated, and she dropped her purse and coat onto the sofa. The lights inside were muted, but she could see her reflection in the window. There were lights around the hot tub, which was located directly outside on the deck. She saw the dark shape of him settle in the water and knew he was watching her.
She should have left.
Instead, she reached for the edge of her T-shirt and pulled it over her head.
12
Nash watched Honey through the window. What the hell was he doing? He should have said nothing, locked up behind her, and worked off his restlessness the way any other guy would. That would have been smart. Instead, he’d baited her. And now she was heading his way wearing nothing more than a sexy black bra and the skimpiest excuse for panties he’d ever seen. He adjusted himself and stifled a groan when she walked outside.
You Own My Heart Page 9
