My heart does a little flip. God help me, I like that too much.
“What if we filmed it?” I tease, eyes sparkling. “You, doing a play just for me? Adorable. And for once you’d be in the spotlight in a good way.”
He narrows his eyes. “You are not filming this. No one is ever seeing me in that getup. Besides, Rowyn already has enough footage from yesterday. Plus, she’ll get more when I play ‘nice’ Santa and don’t punch myself in the face.”
I laugh as he wrestles with the jacket, watching his broad shoulders strain against the seams. Meanwhile, I shake out the dress and drape it over a chair. Then I hook my fingers under the hem of my sweater and tug it over my head.
That’s when I feel it. Penn’s gaze on me, hot and heavy.
“Turn around,” I murmur, my cheeks heating.
He cocks his head, eyes glittering with disbelief. “Really?”
“Yes,” I insist, trying for firm but hearing the crack in my own voice.
And he just stands there, daring me with that look that says I’d have to be insane to think he’s going to miss a second of this.
“Babe,” he says, moving toward me like an animal stalking its prey and a hot streak of want races through me. My God, the man is hot when he acts all possessive. “I’ve been inside of you.”
He runs his fingers down my arm. His touch, along with his words, bring on a shiver.
“Yeah, that’s true,” I manage to get out.
His hands trail up, brush my hair from the curve of my neck. He focuses in on that spot of my throat that sends shivers through me, and wets his lips. “So why do you feel weird about getting naked in front of me?”
“I don’t know.” I glance at the window. We spent a long time in the games room playing and now dawn is upon us. Early morning rays of light are filtering through the glass, casting long shadows across the floor. “I guess because…it’s the light of day, and this situation feels different and you’re really going to look at me.” Am I worried that he won’t like what he sees? No one has to tell me I’m not his usual type. But I do see the way his eyes glaze with lust when we’re naked together. Heck, maybe this really is all for show and underneath this nice guy image, he’s just a brute who punches Santa.
Do you really believe that, girlfriend?
No, not really. But maybe I’m just worried about getting my heart broken.
Ah, there it is.
“Don’t you remember?” he asks, his tone deep, husky. “Last night you told me to look.”
“I guess I did.” I flick my lashes slowly. “I think, I’m just not used to anyone looking at me the way you do, and right now, under these bright lights.” I point to the window. “And dawn….” I let my words fall off, because I don’t want to say…it makes this all feel too real.
“You feel seen,” he says quietly, finishing my sentence. I nod, but I wonder if he really knows what he’s saying. That for the first time in my life, I do feel seen…seen as more than the girl who was humiliated at the Christmas festival, more than the girl who wore light up pants and people laughed at. The girl who lost her job and was publicly ridiculed for being incompetent, and had to come crawling home.
Right now, however, I feel seen as more. I feel admired, cherished. Honestly, no man has ever made me feel the way this one does. And that scares me. What if it really is all just for fun, for the act. One I set into motion, because clearly I was never as bright as those light-up pants.
After I’ve been quiet for too long, Penn backs up a bit and says, “Jay, if it makes you uncomfortable?—”
My heart jumps at the warm sincerity in his tone, the way he wants to respect my space and boundaries. “Do you want to look?”
“Always.”
That one answer. So honest and simple. I take a step back, and work the buttons on my blouse. I let it fall, and then kick off my pants, standing in front of him in only my bra.
He gives a small shake of his head, his eyes briefly closing like he’s in agony. “You are so goddamn perfect.”
My throat tightens, and when his eyes lock on me again, and my heart starts hammering, I know I’m in real trouble here. But I can’t go there with him. This is a fake relationship, and in two weeks he’s back in Boston and I might never get out of Snowberry. I’m going to damn well try, but I’ve failed before.
Needing to lighten things, I grin. “Wait, is this a distraction? A way for you to get out of singing and dancing in a musical?”
His lips curl up, the hungry look in his eyes still there, but dimming. “Is it working?”
“No,” I blurt out, and grab the dress. I pull it over my head, and contort, nearly putting a rib out as I try to get into it. Once it’s on, I try to breathe.