Seb always jokes that he can’t believe I wasn’t a fat kid with the amount of baking and eating I did growing up. I hope Adam likes baked goods! Otherwise Seb’s joke may become a reality by the time I leave. Turning the oven on to preheat, I listen to Kate telling me about the upcoming event she’s working on for a gaming launch.
“I just don’t really get what he’s asking. What the hell is bitcoin?” she sighs in frustration down the phone.
“It’s a form of cyber currency,” I hear Adam say over my shoulder. I didn’t hear him come down; he’s been upstairs dealing with some work thing.
“Huh?” Kate asks from the other end of the phone, clearly just as confused as I am.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Bitcoin is a form of cyber currency. You know when you play online games and you can make purchases? It’s kind of like that. It’s becoming an increasingly popular investment at the moment,” he continues, leaning against the kitchen counter across from me. I shouldn’t watch the way his biceps flex as they support his weight, nor the way his shirt rides up slightly and gives me a view of his tanned skin and the faint trail of hair that disappears beneath the top of jeans. I find myself subconsciously licking my lips, and I know Adam notices by the smirk crossing his handsome face.
“… right?” Kate says, breaking me out of my stupor.
“Sorry, what did you say?” I ask, much to Adam’s amusement.
“Never mind. I’m going to give the manager a call and see what he thinks. I’ll speak to you later, Mills.”
“Okay, love you.”
“Love you too,” she says before hanging up. I turn my attention back to my creations, grabbing my cookie cutters and cutting out the dough.
“Are you making more cookies?” he asks, moving slightly closer. He smells like sandalwood and coffee, and it has me inhaling deep to take it all in.
“Yep. Santa hats and candy canes.” Motioning to the cutouts I’ve done already, my heart picks up its pace as Adam shuffles between his feet with a sudden sharp inhale. His eyes darken to a deep sapphire as they focus on my lips, an audible swallow dragging my own gaze down to his mouth as I lick my lips without thinking. I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me in this way. It makes butterflies clog my throat. Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I ramble, “Seb and I always make Christmas cookies. Well, I make them, he’s chief taster. Baking is the ultimate destresser.”
“What’s stressing you out?” He leans against the counter as he awaits my response.
Shaking my head with a small smile, I say, “Nothing. Just panicking over nothing.”
His soft hand reaches for mine, and I gasp at the warmth of his skin on mine. His touch sets me on fire, and instantly the need to get closer to him is overwhelming. Lifting my gaze to meet his, I struggle to find any coherent thought as he comes closer.
“Have I told you I’m a good listener yet?”
With a sigh, I put down the cutters and turn to him, freeing my hand in the process and immediately mourning the loss of contact.
“Seb and I have spent the holidays together since I can remember. I know it sounds lame, but I don’t want this year to be any different. Our parents are skiing again, and I can’t bear the thought of him being alone when he’s always been there for me.” Tears fill my eyes, and I blink them away in embarrassment. Pull yourself together, Amelia! “Besides, we have traditions that can’t be broken. Ever.”
“You sound like my sister,” Adam chuckles fondly before he adds, “Obviously the weather is out of my hands, but this is England, not the Arctic. It’ll let up soon, right?”
“I hope so,” I tell him even though a part of me twists at the prospect of not seeing him again. He’s so different to any man I’ve ever met or dated, as though whatever mold he was formed in was broken.
“I’m sure you’ll be back with your brother soon, but in the meantime, want a hand from yours truly?” he offers, squeezing my shoulder in reassurance and causing goose bumps to rise across my skin. Tilting my head to meet his gaze, I’m momentarily stunned by the way his eyes dart between mine and my lips. With his hand inching along my shoulder, I can’t control the wave of heat that runs through me, making me shiver. When he reaches the column of my neck, his thumb gently caresses over my skin.
Breathe, Amelia! I tell myself as I try to swallow the butterflies clogging my throat while his thumb traces the movement. If he can feel the way my heart is trying to beat out of my chest, he doesn’t show it. Instead, his gaze finds mine again, and I see the same want reflected back at me. The want that is currently twisting my insides and turning my legs to jelly the longer Adam touches me. Feeling his fingers tangle in the hair at the nape of my neck, I hold my breath, leaning up toward him with my gaze never leaving his lips.
The beeping of the oven has me pulling back in shock, breaking my trance.
“Shoot, I better get these in.” I focus back on the loaded cookie sheet, trying to get my breathing under control as his fingers trace round to my back and down my spine until his hand flattens at the top of my ass. “Once they’re ready, you can help me frost them if you like?” I find myself asking, not wanting him to leave or to lose the heat of his touch. The moment may be lost, but I’m not ready to let him go just yet.
“Sure. Wanna go out to dinner tonight? We could go into the village—I saw a quaint little pub that looks like somewhere you might love. It also means neither of us has to cook.”
Is he asking me out? That’s the first thing that crosses my mind, followed by my reasoning. No, he’s just being nice, given you were practically bawling your emotions out on him. Not everyone is a hopeless romantic like you, Amelia. But I swear, had the oven not been such a cockblock, he was about to kiss me. Wasn’t he?
“That sounds fun.” I smile at him as I put the cookies onto the baking trays and make my way to the oven. Bending over to slide the first tray in, I adjust the temperature and turn to grab the other one. I notice Adam’s gaze is locked on my ass and smile. Busted. An unabashed smirk crosses his face when he realizes he’s been caught and he turns away, making some excuse about checking his emails. But not before stretching his arms out above his head and glancing back at me with a knowing look, to see me predictably eating up the flexing of his muscles. Damn!
The local pub is everything I expected it to be. Cozy with a fireplace on one wall. Wooden tables and chairs packed in everywhere and a bar along the back. Adam orders us both a drink while I grab us a table. Sitting as close to the fire as possible, I glance around at the decorations. Red and green tinsel adorns the walls, and a seven-foot Christmas tree stands in one corner with presents placed underneath. Stockings are hung above the fireplace. Christmas songs are playing softly in the background, and the barmaids have Christmas hats on. It’s perfect.
Adam pulls the seat out and sits opposite me, handing me my glass of wine and smiling when he sees the tree I was admiring.
“It’s nice, but not as nice as ours,” he jokes, and my heart picks up at his reference to the tree we decorated at the cottage. Ours. I need to calm my little inner romantic down, we’re practically strangers for God’s sake.
I see a couple walking past the tree, and the man stops his partner and points above them to the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. Her smile is huge as she leans into him, and they share a kiss that has me averting my eyes, as if I’m intruding on an intimate moment. It’s impossible for me not to smile at the joy that Christmas brings when I catch Adam’s eye. As if he knows what I’m thinking, he smiles back before passing me one of the menus. I have a read through, trying to decide what I feel like, all too aware of his proximity and his occasional glances that find mine.
“So, no boyfriend? How is that possible? I mean, apart from your crazy obsession with Christmas, you seem pretty amazing.” he asks, causing me to choke on my mouthful of wine.
“Wow, talk about going straight for the jugular,” I joke, putting my glass down and looking up at him.
“Sorr
y…” he begins to apologize, but I cut him off with a shake of my head and a smile.
“No, it’s fine. I’m just messing with you. But, side note, nothing crazy about my love of all things merry and bright.” He laughs and takes a swig of his beer, waiting for me to continue. “I guess I’ve just never found the right guy. And I know that’s so cliche, but it’s true. I don’t want to settle, you know? I want the fairy tale.”
Looking at me pensively, he asks, “What is the fairy tale?”
The question puts me on edge. Let’s be honest, guys don’t listen to women like me talk about their ideal happily ever after without running a million miles in the other direction. But Adam’s looking at me, waiting as though nothing could scare him away.
“The fairy tale, Amelia. What is it?”
“You know…” I pause, swallowing down my trepidation. “The big gesture. Someone to put me first. My parents, they’re not bad people, but they always put their careers first, you know? Before me and Seb. Even before each other. I want to know that I’m important to someone, not just a convenience,” I admit, sheepishly.
Kate always mocks me for being such a romantic, but it’s simply who I am and have always been. It’s never going to change. I’m always going to want it all.
“You’re clearly important to your brother.”
“And he’s important to me, but I want to be someone’s entire world. As silly as that sounds…”
“Sounds very…idealistic,” Adam scoffs almost silently, and it makes me wonder why he thinks so.
“But not unrealistic. Well, not if you’re willing to wait for the right person. As with most things, patience will pay off.”
Taking a sip of my drink, I look down at my lap to try and gather myself. I didn’t expect the conversation to go down this road, and I didn’t expect him to listen to my ramblings the way he is. When I look back up, Adam’s still looking at me with that studious gaze that makes me feel almost too exposed to him.
“I know, you probably think I’m nuts or deluded or something…”
“Nuts…definitely, but there’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want,” he says with a smile that makes my thighs clench. They certainly know what they want.
“What about you? You seem pretty perfect—why aren’t you married with three kids and a dog?” I ask, taking another sip of wine as he laughs.
“I’m far from perfect, believe me.” He sighs as he leans back, running a hand through his hair and thinking about my question. “My job makes relationships hard. My dad is thinking of retiring, and I want him to know that I can take over the reins when he does. That he can depend on me. I can’t afford any distractions.” Focusing on his drink, he inhales deeply as though something is weighing on him.
“Are you one of those cliched bachelor playboys? You travel the world sweet-talking women into your bed…” I pause at the drawn expression on his face. It’s the most serious and hardened I’ve seen him so far, as though I haven’t just hit a nerve, I’ve repeatedly poked at it until it’s raw.
There’s a long breath of silence before Adam clears his throat, and ignoring my remark, he continues. “With all the traveling I do, it’s easier to be alone. Like you said, a relationship should mean putting the other person first, and that’s not possible right now,” he admits, and my chest clenches for him. While others may see the private jet and fancy hotels, I see the loneliness and everything he has had to sacrifice for his career. I also know I need to protect my heart. He’s everything I should shy away from, and yet, I can’t seem to put any distance between us.
“So event planning? How did that come about?” he asks, taking another mouthful of his beer and leading us back to safer waters.
“My best friend Kate and I have always loved planning things. We both worked for a big company but felt it lacked personal touches. We knew it was something we could offer people, so we decided to go into business together and Sweet Vine Co. was born,” I say with a smile.
“Where’d the name come from?”
Chuckling as I remember the night it came about, I say, “A few too many glasses into a gorgeous Riesling and things started to make too much sense. We’d come up with a business plan and everything. Kate jokingly said we should name the company after the wine that inspired it. But the label had gotten wet and peeled off. All we knew was that it was a sweet, German wine. And when she attempted to say sweet wine in a German accent…Sweet Vine was born.”
We both burst into laughter, and I love how easy it is to be around Adam. To be myself.
Once we both decide on what we’re having, we head up to the bar to order. It’s a quiet night with the weather, so our table is safe.
“Have you decided what you’d like?” the young barmaid behind the bar asks with a smile.
“Yes. Can I have the steak and chips?” I ask, placing the menu back in the holder on the bar.
“Of course, how would you like your steak cooked?” she asks, moving her Santa hat out of her face so she can see what she’s doing.
“Medium rare, please.” She nods and types it into the computer before turning her attention to Adam.
“And for you, sir?” I don’t miss the way her eyes light up as she takes him in. And I sure as hell can’t blame her. The man’s a walking aphrodisiac.
“The same, thanks,” Adam says, putting his menu back before flashing me a killer smile.
“No problem. Would you like it cooked the same as your girlfriend?” she asks innocently, smiling over at me, and I feel the heat rush to my face.
After the conversation we’ve just had, I look at him to assess his reaction. I already know that he’s probably not going to be impressed by the barmaid’s assumption, but the expression on his face…
All the levity is gone, and a strained smile makes him look as though the notion is completely unfathomable. Which makes me wonder why he would invite me to dinner after our moment this afternoon? Why would he call me amazing and listen to me ramble about my ideals when that innocent slip clearly has him on edge?
“Uh…we’re not…” Adam flashes his stare at me, blue eyes boring into mine. He must realize what I’m thinking because he returns his focus back to the waitress with a low chuckle that sounds somewhat forced. “Yes, medium rare will be fine, thank you.”
Oblivious to the tense atmosphere she’s created between us, the barmaid reads out the total, and Adam is quick to get his card out to pay the bill. Normally I would argue about paying my own tab, but there’s a lump in my throat that seems to get bigger the more I try to make sense of my feelings and what just happened.
Dinner took a nosedive after that. Gone was the carefree atmosphere we’d had before. It became tense, almost as though we were both trying too hard to figure out how to recover from the G-Bomb and its fallout.
The trip back to the cottage isn’t much better, filled with an awkward silence, only broken by the sound of the radio. Reaching for the heater, I freeze when my fingers connect with his. All of a sudden I’m red-hot, and heat is the last thing I want. Other than his stiff posture, Adam shows no signs of being affected, and I’m once again left wondering if this is all in my head. Whether the pull I feel to him is one-sided. He told me he didn’t need distractions, and I’m sure as hell a big one. Relieved when we pull up outside the cottage, I make my excuses as politely as I can and escape to my bedroom.
Well, that went well… not.
I don’t know what happened. Things became so awkward when she assumed we were a couple, with Adam being so quick to brush it off. What’s wrong with me? Did I come on too strong? Maybe he wasn’t so nonplussed about my version of the fairy tale as I thought he was. But he said I was amazing. Was he just being kind? I’m so confused and embarrassed.
Regardless, I barely know the man, and I’m lusting after him like a dog in heat. Perhaps I’m letting my hopeless romantic heart cloud my judgment? All these touches, lust-filled glances…maybe they’re all in my head.
My phone buzzes and
I grab it, expecting it to be Kate checking in on my “date’ as she called it earlier. It’s not Kate though.
Adam: Want to join me for a drink by our tree?
Our tree. My smile stretches as I read the message. I appreciate that he’s trying to break the awkwardness I’ve let hang between us, but maybe hiding out in my room is the best plan. I already revealed more about myself than I intended to, and clearly I want to climb the man like a Christmas tree. He can’t be oblivious to my attraction, even if he doesn’t reciprocate it, and a drink would only aid in giving me looser lips and longer lingering looks. But it is Christmas…
Me: I’d love to jingle you.
Shit!
Me: JOIN you. I’d love to join you. Damn autocorrect!
And just like that, the awkwardness is back. I throw myself back onto my bed and throw a hand over my eyes. I can’t catch a freaking break!
Adam: HAHA. You’re welcome to jingle me anytime. ;-) Come down for a drink.
Putting on my big girl-panties—metaphorically, of course; nothing sexy about those bad boys—I stand and head downstairs in just my “Santa, I’ve been a good girl” nightshirt.
The lights are off with the fire filling the room with a golden glow along with the Christmas tree and the twinkle lights we’ve scattered around the room. Bing Crosby is singing softly in the background while Adam’s pouring two glasses of champagne.
“Hey.” He smiles, handing me a glass of champagne and lifting his own to make a toast.
“Hey,” I reply, tentatively.
Taking the glass from his hands, I don’t miss the electricity I feel when our fingers touch. As always it ties me up in all these delicious knots that leave me hyperaware of his every move. His mere presence has me losing my senses, and with his touch, he lights me up like a damn Christmas tree.
Love 2 Jingle U: A Sweet Vine Christmas Romance Page 4
