Unwrapping The Holidays. Sheryl Lister

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      She could feel the pressure building and could almost sympathize for the kid...almost. Except now he was offering her something that would be useless. Forget Zen. She needed to work. Right now. “Okay. Sure, what’s going to happen is you’re going to comp my next stay, though why I would ever stay here after this is beyond me.”

      “I wish I had a solution for you. If I had a room available I’d rent it to you.”

      Still mad, she was feeling punchy and so exhausted from the trip. “Well, then, you’re going to go and get in your car and take me to your place and you will find some other accommodation for the week.”

      His eyes went wide. He thought she was kidding. Or crazy. Truth was she was that desperate. “M-m-my place?”

      Jamie nodded. “Yep. When do we leave?”

      “But—but where would I stay?”

      Jamie smirked. “Well, since you don’t seem to care about where I’ll stay, I am finding it hard to give two figs about where you’ll stay.” She shouldered her bag. “Okay, I’m ready to go when you are.”

      Poor kid looked ready to pee himself. Be nice, Jamison. It’s not his fault. She sighed. “Okay, look, I’ll let you have the couch.”

      Somehow that didn’t mollify him. Go figure.

      “You can’t stay with me.”

      “What happened to the holiday spirit? You’re going to turn a defenseless woman out onto the streets with nowhere to go?” She was far from helpless but he didn’t know that. Her mother had sold their house three years ago to move to California. Otherwise she’d just go home. She could hack her way into some hotel’s reservation system, but since it was the holiday season, hotel rooms were scarce. She wouldn’t do that to someone.

      “No, I—”

      A deep baritone came from behind her. Smooth as silk, and low and mellow enough to warm her from the outside chill. “What seems to be the problem?”

      The kid’s whole body sagged in relief as if thrilled to be able to hand her off to someone else to handle.

      Jamie, on the other hand, tensed. She knew that voice. Knew it well. It had been years, but she’d never forget it. She whirled around. Cole. Freaking. Nichols. The object of every schoolgirl fantasy. Come to life...in the flesh. But unlike her fantasies...he was clothed. Bummer.

      Also, unlike her fantasies, he was likely to speak...which would ruin everything.

      He blinked at her and his brows quickly furrowed.

      Jamie tipped her chin up. Was he really going to act like he had no idea who she was? Not that she should be surprised, but still.

      He stared at her for a moment too long, but Jamie was determined not to give in. She wasn’t looking away. If he was going to stare, then she could stare too.

      First thing she noticed was that he looked good. But then Cole Nichols had always looked good. He’d been a football god, the kind of guy that even smart, ambitious girls noticed. Problem was he was also brilliant. His skills were phenomenal enough to have been in competition with her for every single academic award or acknowledgment in high school.

      He had played football with her brother, Matt, and like the other guys on the team had spent a good deal of time at her house because her mother was team Mom, but it wasn’t like he and she were besties. He was always there, either he nipping at her heels or she chasing him. Until their paths connected and crossed at that end-of-semester party.

      You will not think about that party. No. That was ancient history. What she did allow herself to remember about Cole was he was good-looking, rich and, oh yeah, an asshole.

      But that was a long time ago. He might have changed.

      Jamie took a step forward, but instead of marble-tiled floor, her foot caught nothing but air. In the seconds between being on her feet and falling backward, so many thoughts ran through her head. Thoughts like: This would only happen to you. And: Maybe you’ll get lucky and the floor will swallow you. And finally: Of course the next time you see him and you’re flat on your behind.

      Though a final look at his face before her rear made contact with the marble told her all she needed to know. From the look on his face, nothing had changed.

      She used several inventive curses to illustrate just how she felt, and he whistled low. “Looks like Jamison Reed finally grew up. Who taught you to swear, Jamison?”

      Okay, in her case, she was going to look him in the pecs, then work her way up to his eyes. Yeah, hell of a plan. “It’s Jamie. And in case you were wondering, I’m fine.”

      His lips quirked into a wry smile. “I see some things never change.”

      No. Apparently they didn’t. Because he looked just as mouthwatering as he had the last time she’d seen him, seven years ago.

      He’d cut his hair though, a style that was shorter on the sides and a bit longer on top, sort of a messy mohawk. It was stylish, just like his peacoat and Cole Haan boots. She recognized the boots because her brother had the same pair. Just her luck. Cole Nichols was still more gorgeous than the devil himself...and he was speaking to her...after seven years.

      Jamie blinked hard to clear her head and not think of the last time she’d spoken to him.

      “Sorry. Are you okay?” His voice was soft, gentle...almost.

      Besides her bruised behind? She was not going to tell him about the state of her butt. “I’m fine. Or I will be when your employee over here realizes that until he finds me a room, I’ll be bunking with him.”

      Cole chuckled low as he helped her up. “That won’t be necessary. Since you’re in the predicament because the property screwed up, you can stay in the owners’ suite...with me.”

      Her eyes went wide. She might not have heard that correctly. Stay with him? Like, as in, with him, Cole Nichols? She shook her head “I—I—I can’t do that.” Especially not given she remembered every single detail of the last time they’d spoken.

      He narrowed his eyes and Jamie got the impression that no one ever told him no. But when he spoke, his voice was calm, restrained. “Well, for starters, you won’t find another hotel with vacancies this close to Christmas. And second, the main suite is nearly a thousand square feet. I don’t need that much space.”

      “B-but we...you...I—” She was a smart woman who knew words. Lots of words. Just not ones she could think of right now. “I have work to do and intrusions will be distracting and...” Her voice trailed.

      His lips twisted into a wry smile. “I see the cat’s got your tongue. But call it the holiday spirit or whatever.” He shrugged then bent down to help her retrieve the contents that had spilled from her purse. As he shoved her phone and her inhaler back into her purse and handed it back to her, he asked, “Have you got any other options?”

      Her inner adult scowled at the inner giddy teenager who was excited about this development. She was annoyed. But she could do this. Especially as she had no other choice. Jamie sighed. “Fine. Merry Christmas, roomie.”

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