Hollidae Fling

by Joy Avery

  The man was gorgeous. Smooth dark skin the color of roasted chestnuts. Nat King Cole’s voice bellowed in her head, singing the popular yule-tide carol, “The Christmas Song.” Hush it, Nat, she warned as her inquisitive eyes drank in more of the intoxicating man.

  Black, close-shaven hair, partially covered by a tan-colored toboggan. Thick, dark brows. Long, curly lashes most women would kill for. And dimples. He had the sexiest dimples she’d ever seen pierce a man’s cheeks. They accented his strong, square jaw. But it wasn’t those dimples that were the most attractive thing about him. It was his smile. Wide. Bright. Confident. And highlighted one tempting pair of lips. Oh, how she missed the feel of a man’s mouth on hers.

  Heat warmed her neck and rose into her cheeks when she realized she’d been watching him like a vulture preparing to claim its bounty. “Um, may…may I help you?”

  “Sienna?”

  The smooth timbre of his voice excited her ears, causing them to involuntarily perk up for whatever else would dance past his glorious lips. Pull yourself together, girl. You’re acting like an animal in heat. Straightening her spine, she said, “Yes, I’m Sienna.”

  His smile grew a little more, causing those damn dimples to plunge deeper into his skin. I’m Jake.”

  The way he said it was as if she should have known who he was. “From State Farm?” She waved her words off. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist.”

  “That was a good one,” he said. “Jake Hollidae. Your sister sent me.”

  Way to go, sis. Inwardly, Sienna laughed, because she seriously doubted Evelyn had sent Jake Hollidae here for the type of holiday cheer Sienna truly needed.

  “Sent you for what exactly?” she asked. He passed her a business card. Hollidae Electric? Sienna was now even more confused. She wasn’t having electrical issues, unless you counted the lust currents sparking through her system now, short-circuiting her brain.

  “Evelyn hired me to install Christmas lights on the outside of your home.”

  Sienna’s brows shot up, then she burst into laughter. “Christmas lights?” She laughed more.

  Jake eyed her as if he thought she’d lost her mind.

  Sobering, she said, “I’m so sorry to have wasted your time, Mr. Hollidae, but I don’t do Christmas, which means I don’t do Christmas lights. But thank—”

  “Don’t do Christmas?” A puzzled expression twisted his lovely features. “Are you a Jehovah’s Witness?”

  “No.”

  “A Quaker?”

  “No. I just don’t celebrate Christmas. I mean, I used to until my—” She stopped abruptly, almost divulging the reason she now shunned what used to be her favorite holiday. “I just don’t, okay?”

  Jake flashed his large hands in mock surrender. “Okay. No need to take my head off.”

  Now she felt awful, because she had been unnecessarily harsh in her delivery. It wasn’t his fault she had a trifling ex-husband she never should have married in the first place. Despite her abrasiveness toward him, Jake still donned a magnificent beam of happiness that did something god-awfully thrilling to her system.

  The way her body reacted to Jake was reason enough to send him packing. She’d been exposed to plenty of men since her divorce, had even gone on a date or two, but never had she experienced such a potent and instant lustful attraction to a complete stranger. A married stranger, judging by the platinum ring on his finger.

  “Again, Mr. Hollidae, I’m sorry you wasted your time. Enjoy the remainder of your evening.” She eased the door shut before his presence corrupted her system any further. When he didn’t ring the bell again, she figured he’d gotten the point. Passing the kitchen window, she stalled, backtracked and peered out. “What the…?”

  Bundling up to brave the bitter November temperature, she snatched up her cell phone—just in case—and headed out the door. Jake stood in front of her ranch-style home, his eyes trained upward, sweeping them from left to right and jotting something onto the clipboard he held.

  Acknowledging her approach, he said, “Do you prefer clear or multi-colored lights?”

  Clear or multi-colored? Was he serious? Had he not just heard what she’d said less than two minutes ago? Ignoring his asinine question, she countered with a question of her own that made far more sense. “What are you doing?”

  He tilted the surface of the clipboard in her direction. A diagram and scribbled notes littered the page.

  “I typically like to assess a project before I start work. Get an idea of what it’ll take to get the job done,” Jake said.

  For a brief moment, Sienna considered Evelyn was pranking her, but quickly dismissed the thought. Her sister was definitely not a prankster. “Mr. Hollidae, you do recall me telling you a short while ago that I don’t want Christmas lights, right?” Maybe he’d been zapped one too many times and now suffered from short-term memory loss.

  “I remember. But Evelyn said you would say no, but to proceed anyway.”

  Sienna’s mouth gaped. Rolling her eyes away, she dialed her sister. When the call rolled into voicemail, she immediately redialed.

  “Excuse me, Sienna, but—”

  She threw up her hand, signaling Jake to stop talking.

  He did.

  “Ugh. Why is she not answering?”

  Jake started again. “You should probably—”

  She silenced him once more. The third time her call rolled into voicemail, she growled a message. “Evelyn, why in the world would you send this man to my house to hang Christmas lights? You know I ha—” She paused because she didn’t need Jake all in her business. Turning, she whispered into the phone. “You know I hate Christmas.”

  “I think your kitchen is on fire,” Jake said.

  “Why would—” Sienna stopped mid-thought, Jake’s words filtering into her head. Pulling the phone from her ear, she eyed him. “What did you say?”

  He pointed toward the house.

  Sienna screeched. Through the window, she could see smoke filling the room. Dropping the phone, she took off toward the house. The acrid smell of burnt pizza greeted her the second she burst through the front door. The tainted air caused her to cough and her eyes to burn. Rushing to the stove, she yanked open the oven door. “No,” she said in a whimper.

  Charred crust and pepperonis resembling severely dehydrated rose petals. The pizza was a goner.

  “Wow. I didn’t know blackened pizza was a thing,” Jake said, joining her in the room, fanning a hand in front of his face.

  Maybe she should have been alarmed by his presence in her home, but strangely, she wasn’t.

  “I grabbed your cell phone for you.” He placed the device on the counter. “You’re probably going to want to leave Evelyn another message to let her know you’re okay. You ended the call kind of abruptly.”

  Penning him with a heated scowl, she said, “This is your fault.”

  Jake’s head jerked in apparent surprise. “My fault?” He gave a dazzling grin. “How is your burnt pizza my fault?” His brow furrowed. “And why didn’t your smoke detector sound?” His eyes swept the room, apparently searching for the device.

  Was he really worried about her smoke detector? “Because there are no batteries in it, and my burnt dinner is your fault because, had I not been outside with you, I would have heard my oven timer.”

  Jake donned a confused expression. “Why would you not have batteries in your smoke detector?”

  Sienna released a heavy sigh. “Because it keeps going off. It’s annoying. Kind of like some people. Back to the matter at hand. Wh—”

  Jake interrupted her. “Can you not cook?”

  Sienna gasped at his forwardness. “Excuse you? I can cook just fine, thank you very much.” Which may have been an over-exaggeration, but he didn’t need to know she lacked culinary skills.

  He slid his assessing gaze away. “What’s with all the sweet potatoes?”

  God, he was nosey. “If you must know, I’m baking pies. Lots and lots of pies,” she said unenthusia
stically.

  “Want some help? I’m an excellent baker. Won first place in the apple pie bake-off my sophomore year of high school.”

  Sienna bit back a laugh. High school? Men loved to over-exaggerate. He was probably a worse baker than she was. “Thank you for the offer, but I think I can handle it.” Again, he didn’t need to know how far over her head she’d soared. “Besides, I don’t know you, Mr. Hollidae.”

  “Are you kidding me? We’re like best friends now. We’ve experienced a calamity together. Everyone knows when that happens two people are linked. Duh.”

  This time she couldn’t hold her laughter. “Calamity? Dare I ask what calamity you’re referring to?”

  He eyed the baking sheet that held her charred pizza. “Your house nearly going up in flames.”

  Like she said, men loved to over-exaggerate. “Ah. Thanks for clearing that up for me.”

  “No problem. I can see you’re still not convinced about me.” He fished his cell phone from the pocket of the thick, hooded jacket he wore. “I’m sure Evelyn will vouch for me. I’ll just give her a quick—”

  “No,” she said a bit too urgently, and rested her hand on his to halt him from making the call. She couldn’t risk her sister learning that she hadn’t even baked the first pie.

  The shock of touching him created a sudden upset to her entire system. Electricity traveled through her fingertips and dispersed all through her body, filling her with total awareness that he was all man and she, all woman. Then her palm brushed the chill of his wedding band. She snatched her hand away.

  “What would your wife think about you helping me bake pies, Mr. Hollidae? I’d imagine she wouldn’t approve.”

  “My wife is dead,” he said. “She died almost three years ago in an automobile accident.”

  Sienna froze, unable to do anything but stare at him like a bemused deer trapped in the glow of oncoming traffic. If a level beyond ultra-extreme mortification existed, she was there. Front row and center.

  Say something.

  But what did one say after successfully cramming their entire foot in their mouth?

  Chapter Three

  Jake couldn’t stop staring at the drop-dead gorgeous woman in front of him. From the moment she’d opened her front door—snatching his breath away—he hadn’t taken his eyes off her. She was…captivating. That was the only way he could describe this full-bodied, brown-skinned goddess with the slightly unruly reddish-brown hair.

  Captivating.

  He wasn’t sure he’d ever used such terminology to describe anything, let alone a woman, but for Sienna, the term fit exquisitely. And what made things even stranger, he was intensely drawn to her, like a moth to an open flame. In some weird way, it felt as if he was meant to be here. Meant to meet her.

  Sienna Turner.

  Her beautiful brown eyes held his. Her cheeks blossomed a crimson color as she stared at him. Was she contemplating what to say next? Deciding to relieve her from her misery, he said, “You look as if you’ve just stepped on a landmine and waiting for it to detonate.” He tossed his hands into the air. “Boom.”

  Her shoulders relaxed a bit. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to…” Her words dried up. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s fine, really.”

  “My ex-husband’s dead. Well, not actually. Just dead to me.” Her eyes expanded to the size of saucers. “Oh, God. That was so totally inappropriate. I’m an idiot. I babble when I’m nervous.”

  “Why are you nervous?”

  “Huh?”

  He chuckled. This woman just got cuter and cuter by the second. “You said you’re nervous. Why?” Did he make her nervous? And if so, in a bad or good way?

  She waved him off. “No, I’m not nervous. I misspoke.”

  Sienna folded her arms across her chest for what he assumed to be comfort, because she looked as uneasy as a hen in a fox den wearing a cowbell. He studied the peculiar woman. Her flawless skin. Her dazzling eyes. Her cute button nose. Those perfectly-portioned lips. Did they taste as delicious as they looked? He couldn’t stop himself from wondering.

  “What?” she asked.

  Snapping out of the trance, he said, “Nothing.” But there was something. Something about her that made the air around him lighter. Did this even make sense? “So, about those pies?”

  This time Sienna studied him. A long, hard, narrow-eyed appraisal. It was the kind of look that suggested she thought he had some kind of angle and was attempting to figure out what it was. She needn’t worry. He had no ulterior motives. Actually, he guessed he did, if wanting to be near her counted. Which was insane because it was the first time he’d ever laid eyes on the woman. Instant attraction. It does exist.

  After a minute or two, she shrugged. “Why not? I could definitely use the help. But just for the record, I’m still not allowing you to string lights on my house.”

  “Got it,” he said. “Let me put my things in my truck, and I’m all yours.”

  Something flashed in Sienna’s eyes. Had it been because of the I’m all yours comment? He could see how the declaration could have been misinterpreted. However, the notion of being all hers—only for the night—didn’t seem that daunting. The thought did wicked things to his body. Something told him it wouldn’t necessarily take all night to achieve ultimate satisfaction with Sienna.

  “Are you okay?” Sienna asked.

  That was a loaded question. No, he wasn’t. He definitely needed a dose of cold air. “Yes. I’ll be right back,” he said, escaping before his imagination consumed him whole.

  Outside, Jake fished his phone from his coat pocket and punched in Rowe’s number.

  Rowe answered on the second ring. “You got Rowe,” he said in lieu of a customary greeting.

  “Hey,” Jake said. “Can we reschedule tonight. Something came up.”

  “Everything okay?”

  Jake glanced toward the house, just in time to see Sienna back away from the window. Redirecting his attention back to the phone, he said, “I…don’t know.”

  There was a slight rise in Rowe’s voice. “You don’t know? What does that mean? You need help? You in trouble? I can be wherever in five.”

  Was he in trouble? Well, that was another loaded question. Yeah, he guessed he was in a bit of discord, but with himself. “I’m good. This assessment is just going to take a little longer than expected.”

  “Oh. Okay. Cool,” Rowe said. “While I have you on the line, Mom wanted me to tell you she won’t accept you missing Thanksgiving dinner with us again this year. My suggestion to you, bro, is to be there.”

  Suhdeen Winthrop had always been like a second mother to Jake. But she could never replace his own. He briefly thought about Artisa Hollidae. A wave of sadness filled him. Pushing the memory of his late mother away, he refocused on the call. “Let her know I wouldn’t miss this year for the world.”

  The only reason he’d missed the previous year was because Janet had begged him to celebrate with them, which had been a massive energy suck. For a good portion of the night, she’d talked about his dead wife. A subject he hadn’t wanted to discuss. By the time he’d left the house, his soul was exhausted.

  “Perfect,” Rowe said.

  Knowing his friend like he did, Jake was sure Rowe had something up his sleeve. If he had to guess, this blind date Rowe had spoken about earlier would miraculously show up.

  The two men said their goodbyes and Jake ended the call. Moving back toward the house, he couldn’t ignore how forward he was looking to hanging out with Sienna Turner.

  When Jake had left the kitchen, Sienna’s eyes had lowered to his backside and deemed it impressive. They’d trailed further downward, admiring his long, undoubtedly powerful, legs. That man certainly knew how to wear the hell out of a pair of relaxed-fit jeans. She’d been forced to pull her gaze away when a slow throb pulsed between her legs, suggesting that inviting him to stay may have been a bad idea.

  She peered at him through the window. Who was he talking to? W
hen he turned toward the house, she gasped and darted out of sight. No doubt he’d seen her though. Busying herself, she grabbed the sweet potatoes and took them to the sink to scrub.

  Was she completely insane? An hour ago, she didn’t even know Jake Hollidae existed. Now she was welcoming him into her home to help her bake pies? But could a man still wearing his wedding band three years after losing his wife really be dangerous? When she thought about it, it was kind of sweet. A man with that kind of devotion to his wife, even after death, was commendable.

  A gentle smile touched her lips. He sure must have loved her very much to still be wearing the ring. Her no-good ex barely wore his wedding band when they were married. That should have been her first red flag. She sighed. Love blinded you to a lot of things.

  Curious, she wondered if Jake had vowed to never take it off? Never get involved with another woman out of respect for his wife’s memory? Never fall in love again? Well, they had the latter in common, if that were the case. Love was for those far more adventurous than she was any longer. A tiring obstacle course she never wanted to brave again.

  Jake hadn’t made a sound when he’d reentered the kitchen, but strangely, Sienna knew he was there. It was almost like she’d felt his presence. She chuckled to herself. Now, she was just being ridiculous. And a little weird, she admitted.

  “So, where can I wash up?” he asked.

  Jake’s sexy voice crawled over her warm body like tiny fingers, massaging her gently in all the right places. Heat swirled in her belly, and she cursed her overactive libido. But maybe she should have afforded it a little more understanding. Having gone so long unfulfilled, being in the presence of such a well-put-together man was stimulating.

  Sienna glanced over her shoulder. “There’s—” Greeted by broad shoulders previously hidden under the thick coat, she choked on her words and lost her train of thought.

  “Are…you okay?” Jake asked, his brows furrowed.

  Gathering her senses, she yanked her gaze up to meet his. “Yes. Um… Yes, I’m good. You removed your coat?” The second the phrase exited her mouth, she knew how silly it must have sounded. But if Jake thought so, too, it didn’t show on his handsome face. He simply lowered his eyes to the plaid button-down shirt he wore, then dragged a large hand down his chest as if to remove wrinkles that weren’t there.