Filthy Scrooge

“Sarcasm isn’t a pretty color on you, Linc.”

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I pulled on the sweater and leaned down to brush my mouth over hers. “It’s my favorite color.”

She flattened the collar of the plaid. “I think you’re all talk, Scrooge.”

I rolled my eyes and stepped back. This was far too intimate and domestic for my peace of mind right now. I found my Timberlands and a thick pair of wool socks. “You’re going to freeze in that outfit.”

“I’m a city girl. These tights are wool and I can walk in heels anywhere.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Besides, what am I supposed to wear?”

“There’s some jeans—” I cut myself off. I still had some of Sheridan’s clothes in a box. No way in hell was I putting any of that on her. Nor would it fit. Kay was stacked and lush compared to my finely boned ex. “Never mind.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t brought women here.”

“I haven’t.”

“And yet you have a box of…what? Goodwill clothes?”

“I should give it to them,” I muttered.

“More clues. I’ll figure you out before this weekend is over.”

“Nothing to figure out.” I cinched the ties on my boots and held my hand out for her. “I’m just a bastard who hates Christmas.”

She put her hand in mine. “So you keep telling me.”

I ushered her out of my room and down to the front door. Joe, efficient as always, had the truck out front.

She stopped on the porch and looked up at me. “Truck fairy?”

“I’ll let Joe know about his new moniker.”

“Did he want to come inside to say hi?”

“No.”

“You know this, how?”

“Joe likes his space when he comes up here.”

“Two of a kind, huh?”

I hooked my arm around her waist. “Something like that.” I helped her into the truck and pulled down the drive to the winding roads that would take us down to the town of Lake Placid. The square was lit up with twinkle lights on every tree and post. Wreaths and flags dotted Main Street and each storefront was decked out with Christmas.

Intellectually, I knew it needed to happen from a business standpoint. Hell, my stores were dripping with Christmas before Halloween was over. Didn’t stop the twisting in my gut when I paid attention to my surroundings. It was easy to ignore when I was in work mode. There was always someone looking for something from me. Here? Not so much.

She wound her way through the stations on the radio. Satellite radio came in here and there enough for her to find Christmas music. Not that you could avoid it on any channel when it was Christmas Eve.

I snapped off the sound twice and she put it back on each time. When I growled, she slapped my hand. “Watch it, buddy. I can sing them without the radio.”

I seethed, but would rather listen to Pearl Jam’s version of a holiday tune. She’d probably sing “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” on a loop.

Downtown was maddeningly full of people. Carolers dotted the corners of the town square. A huge tree was decked out in white lights and red bows at the edge of the ice rink that had been installed.