I drown my pancake in syrup while I wait. When the door finally opens, he’s tugging on sweats, settling across from me like nothing happened. I sip my coffee, studying him.
It’s none of my business—this is all fake, after all—but the words slip out anyway. “You don’t like Jaxon.”
His head snaps up. “What? No. Jaxon’s a great guy.”
“Then why was all that…” I wave from the bed to the abandoned breakfast tray “…so awkward?”
“We just… I don’t know. I haven’t been on the team long.”
It’s not his words I read, but the weight in them. “You just don’t know him well,” I say, though what I’m hearing feels bigger. This isn’t about Jaxon—it’s about Penn. He hasn’t bonded with his teammates. He’s worried about losing his spot. And maybe—just maybe—he’s never been the bonding type. He wasn’t in high school, either.
The boy from the edge of town with the eccentric aunt, the parade of ferrets and now cats, and six husbands. Maybe he simply never learned how to fit in with the guys. A thought lodges deep in my chest. Over the holidays, I’m going to give him what he needs. Whether he likes it or not.
He bites into his pancake, eyes brightening. “These are amazing. Didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “We did burn a lot of energy last night.”
A slow grin curves his mouth. “Yeah. We did.”
My phone pings from the nightstand. “Here we go,” I mutter, already bracing for disaster number twelve of the week. One glance and yep. “They need more craft paper for the kids’ art fest this afternoon.”
“They text you for that?”
“I’m the catch-all person.” I take a much-needed sip of coffee. “I have to check in with the craft vendors and make sure they have everything before the doors open to the public anyway. Feel like shopping?”
He makes a face. “Craft fairs and shopping. Only my favorite things in the world. But yeah, sure.”
“I also have to pick out the town square tree and get it set up.”
“I thought you’d never ask.” His tone is mock-grumpy, but there’s something in his eyes—interest. Maybe even excitement.
“Have you even been tree shopping, or did you just cut down your own?” I ask.
A pained look comes over his face. “Elaine always had ferrets, and they had an aversion to trees so we never put one up.” I open my mouth, to tell him I’m sorry, but he hurries out with, “We still had a nice Christmas, until…” His words fall off for a moment, and then he brightens up and asks, “When’s the lighting?”
“Next weekend. Right after the parade.”
He shakes his head, almost laughing. “I still can’t believe I’m going to be Santa.”
I chuckle. “Did I thank you for that?”
He glances down at the rumpled sheets, then back up at me. “I believe so. But that’s kind of a big deal, so more thanking will definitely be needed.”
I pick up a grape and flick it at him.
“Hey. That’s grape assault.”
“Grape assault, huh? What’s the punishment for that crime?”
Before I can blink, he’s on his feet, tugging me up with him, pressing me back against the hideous striped wall.
“Well,” he murmurs low, his breath hot against my ear, “First, it requires me to kiss the living hell out of you. And second…”
His lips crash onto mine, deep and hungry. My legs go weak as his tongue slides inside, exploring like last night was just a warm-up, like he’s been starving for more. He breaks the kiss, chest heaving, eyes dark and smoldering as they roam my face.
“Second?” I prompt breathlessly, desperate to hear the rest.
His grin is wicked enough to scare the creepy elf. “How about I just show you?”