I couldn’t line up my brain with the Scrooge I’d met in the office and this man with his sweet, charming side. My damn ovaries had been engaged the moment I’d seen him with the towheaded little girl. I loved kids, even wanted a few someday—emphasis on the someday.
No man could act like that with children and be a complete asshole. There had to be a story there.
My fingers itched to Google him. Surely I could find a few clues as to his extreme hate for the holiday season. Especially when none of it made sense. He had a Santa suit in his closet that even the most professional character actors would envy—and possibly mug him for.
He also turned to mush when a child came up to him.
Oh, and when he touched me, I bypassed my usual frozen, anxiety-ridden self and became a crazy person. Well, a crazy person who kept losing sight of the rules in this game.
“Miss Kane.”
I ducked my head as his voice bore down on me.
Like you want him to do to you. Lots of bearing down.
God, shut up.
Now I was even babbling in my head.
I still could feel him against me in that closet—or food storage unit…whatever. It didn’t matter. It had shelves and bins in it. Not a bed. Not even a remotely soft place to land unless the bag of flour in the corner counted.
I wasn’t sure I could do this. Okay, so all the parts under my skirt said yes, but I was still the ruler of my personal zip code. Even if my body wanted to change it to 00069.
Blindly, I slapped the door open and found myself in the first floor lobby again. Mel was letting herself out of the banquet room and spotted me.
“Oh, there you—what happened to you?”
I looked down at myself. The buckle on my skinny belt was skewed to the left and the lines of my skirt were completely twisted. I quickly looked over my shoulder to make sure my underwear wasn’t showing on top of it.
Nope, all I could see behind me was just a runaway Santa in a tight white V-neck shirt and oversized red pants that did nothing to bring down his sex appeal.
Yeah, I was in so much trouble.
I rushed toward my best friend. “Do you have my bag?”
Mel nodded. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Fine.”
“Where are your stockings?” she whispered as she swung a huge canvas bag to the floor.
I stuck my hand into the hidden pocket of my skirt.
Her eyes flared wide. “Do I want to know?”
“No.”
“Oh, but I do.” She glanced over my shoulder and her eyes got even wider. Her expression turned into the kind that put cartoons to shame. “Our Santas do not look like that.”
“You think?” I whispered fiercely.
“I think that maybe we should try to find a few next year. We could book totally different parties.”
I rolled my eyes, but filed the thought away. She was probably right. Right now, I had only one person to worry about, and he was driving me crazy.
I crouched down to dig into the huge bag. My purse was in there with my opaque green tights. Now that the stupid lust endorphins weren’t flooding my system, I was freezing.
Before Linc could get to me, I scooted into the bathroom with my purse. I caught a look at myself in the mirror and gasped. Even worse than I thought. My hair was wild, my lipstick was barely a stain, and I was pretty sure the rest of it was on Linc’s mouth.