Christmas In The City (Imperfect Match 1.50)
“Who the fuck is Reid Fortino?”
“God, you don’t remember anybody! He’s a co-worker of mine, and you’ve met him at least five times.”
“Oh. Well, thanks but no thanks. I don’t need to be set up.”
“Michael, you can’t keep turning down every single girl I send your way!”
“Um, yes. I can, actually.” In the living room, I can hear Harlow singing “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” and it makes me smile because it’s so off key.
“You’re going to wind up old and alone.”
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.” I get up and open the door to peek at Harlow, stifling my laughter at the sight of her stringing Christmas lights around her body.
“Good Lord, what’s that noise? Did you adopt a sickly cat?”
“No,” I tell her, quickly shutting the door again. “It’s a neighbor singing. I have to go.”
Laura sighs dramatically. “What am I supposed to say to this girl if she shows up hoping to meet the man of her dreams?”
“Say Merry Christmas. Pass her the cheese plate.”
“You’re a big jerk,” she huffs. “I’m giving your present to somebody else. And if that girl shows up and she’s perfect, you’ll be sorry you’re not here.”
“I’ll take my chances,” I tell her. “Bye, sis. Sorry to miss the party. Give my apologies to Mom and Dad, and I’ll see you guys soon.” I end the call and hurry out of the bedroom.
The perfect girl is already mine tonight.
5
Harlow
Michael shuts the door to my bedroom, leaving me alone in the living room. I can’t help dancing around as I admire my tree and start hanging ornaments on its branches.
“I’m sorry I called you evil,” I tell it softly. “You’re the perfect tree, and I’m having the perfect night.”
Opening up a box of lights, I wonder who Michael had to call. For a second, a wave of fear rushes through me as I imagine him calling his girlfriend—or wife!—making up some lame excuse why he’s going to be home late. But before I panic completely, I remember that he said his sister is having a party tonight. He was probably calling her to say he can’t make it because of the weather.
Scolding myself for assuming the worst, I sing along with the soundtrack to the holiday romance on the TV as I unwind the lights. Not everyone is a two-timing asshole like my ex, and I have to get over it and start trusting people again—like the hot, sexy man in a suit who rescued me this evening. The one in my bedroom.
“Have yourself a merry little Christmas,” I croon loudly, even though I am a terrible singer and Willow says I really should not ever sing in public. “Let your heart be liiiiiiiiight.” I loop a strand of lights around my waist and toss one end over my shoulder, twirling in circles. “From now on our troubles will be out of sight.”
“Wow.” Michael shuts the bedroom door behind him, his expression amused. “That’s quite the vocal talent you have there.”
I laugh. “I happen to have many talents. Singing, alas, is not one of them.”
“I gathered that conclusion from the next room.”
“Everything okay?” I glance at the phone in his hand as he walks towards me.
“Everything is great.” He tosses the phone onto the couch next to his coat. “I am not expected anywhere else tonight.”
“Perfect.” I can’t keep the smile off my face as I twirl around, showing off the lights I’m wearing. “I was just about to test these and make sure they work.”
He puts his hands on my hips and pulls me closer. “Want me to try to turn you on?”
“Yes, please.” I lift my lips to his and he kisses me, and I would not have been surprised if every damn bulb on the string lit up just from the current between us.
His mouth moves down my throat, sending sparks to the farthest reaches of my body. His hands slip beneath my tank top and slide up my sides. His breathing grows heavier as his palms move down the back of my shorts and grip my ass. He pulls me against him, and I can feel how hard he is. My belly hollows, and my core muscles clench.