“He walked off his flight from Dallas at my gate. He didn’t want me to stay at the airport, so he offered to let me stay at his place. The party is a holiday bonus. Lots of fascinating people. One of the women here used to be a Rockette.”
“Wow. Seems like fate...oh, a Christmas miracle.”
“I don’t know, Ella. The more I think about it, our lives are so different. He’s here and I’m well, there.”
“Nonsense. Get into bed with your hot quarterback already.”
“I don’t even know if he feels the same way,” I hiss.
“Maybe he’ll sneak into your bed tonight and cross the goal line.”
Ignoring her comment, I come up with the excuse as old as time. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”
“What friendship? You haven’t seen the guy in person in like foooorrrreeevveeer. So jump his bones already.”
“There will be no jumping bones.” My face scrunches. “What are you twelve?”
“Well I plan to bone my hubby tonight,” she counters.
“Ugh. I don’t need to hear about your sexcapades with my brother.”
“Text me when you bang the hot quarterback. The countdown to banging is on.”
My eyes close and I blow out a deep breath. “Merry Christmas Eve, Eve. I gotta get back to the party.”
“Kisses. Love you, mean it.”
I end the call and sag against the wall. Dammit Ella. She’s got me thinking of things I shouldn’t be thinking about. Like kissing Spencer.
And having sex with Spencer.
“Everything okay?” Spencer appears in the hallway. The glow of soft lighting passes over his handsome features. Holy heavenly yule log. Why does he have to look so good?
“Yep. All good.”
“We’re about to start the Christmas movie trivia game. Want to be my partner?”
His voice sounds like rich buttercream frosting sliding over cinnamon rolls.
“Sure thing.”
He slings his heavy arm around my shoulders pulling me close. “I’m really glad you’re here, Amy.”
Is it my imagination or did he say that in a maybe flirty kind of flirty way? Could Ella be right? Maybe there’s a reason I ran into Spencer after all this time.
Maybe—but that’s the thing about super sexy guys like Spencer, they can have their pick of women. I’ve seen the women he’s photographed with on Page Six and in People magazine. Model types. Long leggy brunettes, red heads, and the occasional blonde.
“Me too. This is a really fun party.”
His fingertips brush against my arm. It’s too much.
Or is it just the right amount?
CHAPTER FOUR
Spencer
It’s pitch black when I wake the next morning.
Christmas Eve.
Not really a surprise to see that it’s really coming down outside. I can barely see the town square.
Usually I just walk around in my boxers, but since I have a guest I stop at my closet before leaving the bedroom. I pull on a pair of track pants and one of my many Renegades t-shirts.
As quietly as I can, I walk down the hallway and past the guest bedroom. Amy’s nowhere in sight.
The most delicious aroma pulls me towards the kitchen. Amy stands at the island, her dark hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.
She’s wearing candy cane pajamas. It’s adorable.
Amy’s eyes meet mine. “Good morning.” Her voice is low and raspy.
“Good morning. What are you making?”
“Cinnamon roll casserole. It’s my mom’s recipe and it’s amazing. I’m glad you had all the ingredients.”
“And you made coffee too.” I grab a mug from the counter.
“Yep. I hope you don’t mind me making myself at home in your kitchen.”
“Not at all.” I blow the steam away from my mug and take a seat at the island.
She nods towards the window. “Don’t think I’m getting out of here today.”
“It’s doubtful.”
Amy takes a piece of bread and tosses it into the mixture coating it all over like a piece of french toast. “I’m going to call the Embassy Suites near the airport and see if they have any rooms. I’ll be out of your hair soon.”
“You don’t have to do that, Amy.”
“I’m sure you have plans for Christmas Eve and I don’t want to be a bother.”
I shake my head. “First, my plans today include cooking, eating way too much, drinking, watching endless amounts of TV, and maybe get in the hot tub later.”
Her mouth drops open. “You have a hot tub? Where?”
“Outside on the balcony.”
“No way.” She stops what she’s doing and rushes towards the windows. “Huh. Would you look at that. A freaking hot tub with a view. Too bad I don’t have a swimsuit.”
“Who says you need one?”
She blinks at me. “Unless you have a stash of women’s swimwear hanging and...gross if you do. I’m not getting in that thing naked for all of Hollybend to see.”
“Okay.” I wave my hands in front of me. “I’m going to try not to be offended by the look on your face. In case you hadn’t noticed I’m Spencer Ward. I have a way of making things happen. And I know that sounds gross tossing around my celebrity powers especially on Christmas Eve, but I have very well-paid elves and a few who aren’t.”
Her arms fold against her chest and she cocks a brow. “You have elves, huh?”
I nod and swallow my coffee. “Yup. So if there’s anything you want all you have to do is ask.”
“And second?” she asks, striding back towards the kitchen.
“Second what?”
“You said first, my plans include...so what’s the second item?” Amy continues dipping the pieces of dough into the mixture and then placing them into the greased pan.
“Oh, well that’s where you come in.” I tease.
“Me?” Her blue eyes dance with confusion.
“Yeah, you’re my Elf in Chief, remember? You said so last night. I’m holding you to the promise of decorating this place.”
Once she’s finished, she pours the remaining mixture over the top of the casserole and then sprinkles it with pecans. I didn’t even know that I had pecans.
“Okay. A promise is a promise. I’ll get working on that right after breakfast. Maybe there’s a Christmas tree lot open and we can go pick one out.”
“Sounds fun. I’m supposed to do this charity event at the hospital today. Visit a few kids, sing some songs, and pass out gifts. I should be back by two. Then I’ll be cooking.”
“More Bolognese?” she teases and opens the door to the oven.
“Funny. Three cheese grilled cheese on Sourdough for lunch with tomato soup.”
Her eyes light up. This was Amy’s favorite meal in high school. And I remember.
“That’s my favorite.”
“Yeah, I know.” I suck down the rest of my coffee.
“Okay.” She steps up to the sink and washes her hands. “So what’s for dinner.”
“You’ll love it, baked chicken and mushroom risotto. Or we can have homemade Sicilian pizza. Your choice, I’m prepared either way.”