“I know what you mean,” I mutter, “Mom can’t cook anything that doesn’t come frozen in a cardboard box, and even then she manages to screw it up somehow.” I can feel Zane’s gaze on me, as I purposefully lean forward making a point to stick my ass out and grab a strip of bacon from the platter. I bring it to my mouth and take a bite, licking the crumbs off my lips. “Mmm,” I moan, enjoying the delicious, saltiness of the crisp bacon on my tongue. “Why is bacon so damn good?”
I hear a throat clear and when I turn my attention to Zane, I notice he’s watching me intently through dark lashes. He’s sipping the steaming coffee from his thermos, but it’s the heat in his eyes that makes me shiver, the room suddenly much warmer than it was moments ago. What the hell am I doing? Sure he was being a little flirty yesterday, but that could have just been because I was being my usual sarcastic self. However, purposefully egging him on like this, teasing him and flaunting my ass to him, this is dangerous. Though I can’t miss the fact his eyes are focused on my tits. Looks like someone’s spotted the piercings.
I straighten up, moving around the island, and over to the coffee pot on the counter, reaching for one of the mugs set on the counter, and pouring myself a cup. The whole time, both Chloe and Zane remain silent, watching me move about the kitchen as if I’ve done it countless times before.
“Zane made his famous hot cocoa but I figured you’d want coffee first. I told him I didn’t drink any but that you pretty much have coffee flowing through your veins, so he made a full pot,” Chloe states, clearly blabbering nervously at the tension in the room. Her blond hair sits in curls above her shoulders, but I notice she’s wearing a bit of mascara and blush over her cheeks. Makeup this early in the morning, hmm interesting.
My best friend is naturally beautiful, as in she doesn’t really know how truly beautiful she is, whereas I know I’m hot, have a banging body, and luckily have no need to wear any makeup. Though I wear it by choice. But Chloe going out of her way to look pretty this early in the morning can only mean she’s trying to make an impression. The only question is for who.
“Thanks,” I say, to no one in particular. I walk back over to the island and grab a plate, serving myself a bit of everything in front of me. Bacon, eggs, biscuits, fruit, I’m starving having skipped dinner yesterday, and everything looks and smells delicious.
“Zane made biscuits from scratch with apple maple butter, and for dinner I convinced him to make his famous spaghetti alla Bolognese.”
“Seems like he’s a true celebrity,” I mock, realizing too late what I’ve said.
“I see you can walk now?” Zane asks, breaking his silence. I look up at him confused, then follow his gaze down to the bandage around my ankle.
“Oh that, yeah thanks for that. The swelling seems to have gone down. It only tingles a bit and kind of goes numb but I figure it’s from walking on it.” His face contorts and turns serious for a moment before he sets his cup down and steps toward me.
“The bandage might be too tight, your circulation may be lacking. We should loosen it up. Follow me.” Without waiting for my response he grabs my wrist and tugs me toward him.
“It’s fine really,'' I snap, looking down at his hand grasping my wrist. As if realizing what he’s doing he quickly releases me. “I’ll just do that later.”
“Nonsense. I’ll do it. Come with me,” he commands, motioning to the den. “Chloe, why don’t you grab our plates and the hot cocoa and bring it with us. I brought most of the boxes up, but there may be a few left downstairs if you want to check, while I redo Avery’s bandage,” he adds, his stern gaze not once leaving mine. Green eyes stare deep into mine looking for, well I’m not sure what they search for.
“Yeah sure,” Chloe obeys, jumping down from her seat. “I’ll go get the boxes and then bring the food over.”
I look at her with a don’t leave me alone expression, but she shrugs it off heading down the hall toward where I assume the basement is.
With nowhere left to go, I follow Zane into the den, instantly spotting the giant pine tree taking over the room. “That’s a big tree,” I mutter nervously.
“Sit,” he commands, reaching for the first-aid kit sitting on the ottoman. He grabs the pair of scissors and compression tape, turning to me with a deep scowl. “I said sit.”
Only if it’s on your face, I feel like saying. Though I bite down hard on my tongue, fighting the urge to say some snarky remark that will get me stabbed with the weapon in his hand, or worse with his ax. So I sit, deciding I’ll play along just this once. Seems to me like Zane needs to feel in control, given the fact he’s cooking all of Chloe’s favorite things, and even playing along with her Christmas crazy, I’m betting he also likes to feel needed. Which is why he’s playing the role of hero only to his unsuspecting surprise, he’s about to find out I’m no damsel.
“So what’s the diagnosis today Doc?” I ask in my sultriest voice. I make a point to extend my hurt ankle, bending my other leg to my ass. Just as expected, his gaze trails up my bare skin landing right on the hem of my shorts which barely cover my crotch. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, his ardent gaze meeting mine.
Shit. I didn’t quite think this through. His hand finds my ankle, softly touching the skin around the area, as he unwraps the bandage. He reaches for a bottle of lotion, squirting a quarter-size amount in his palm. Without announcing what he’s about to do, he begins to massage the cream onto my still slightly swollen ankle.
Goosebumps cover every inch of my skin as he continues to rub me in soft, delicate circles, applying a touch of pressure when he smooths over the tightness on my arch. I inhale sharply as a twinge of pain shoots up my leg. “Are you cold?” he murmurs, his voice thick and raspy. I’m sure he’s referring to the chill of my skin.
“No,” I groan breathily, throwing my head back at the sensation, unable to look him in the eye. “It’s actually a bit warm,” I whimper, slowly pushing my strap down my shoulder. He stops massaging my foot, and I swear I hear a low growl escape his lips.
His hand continues massaging me, trailing up my ankle to calf. I close my eyes, in awe how wrong this is, yet I’m taken aback by how good it feels. Finding the courage, I look up at him, and the hint of arousal in his expression makes me instinctively squeeze my legs together.
His gaze lowers to my heated center, as he adjusts himself on the ottoman. “Ahem,” he clears his throat, just as Chloe walks into the room.
“I found these,” she says, looking between my foot and Zane’s hand. I know this position doesn’t look right.
“Avery’s ankle is still a bit swollen so I applied some pain relieving cream. I’ll wrap it up once again, slightly looser than before and you girls can get to decorating.” He nervously grabs a towel and wipes his hand, grabbing the tape and slowly wrapping it around my foot.
“You’re not going to join us?” Chloe asks, sounding disappointed.
Zane moves as quickly as he can, clearly trying his hardest to avoid. touching me again. “I have some work to do. I’ll come down a bit later with the ladder and help with the top of the tree. You know this isn’t my thing Chloe.”