“What?” he asked.

  “Nothing. This is really good.”

  “I use organic fair-trade coffee too. Not only does it taste better, but it’s better for the environment. We’ve only got one planet. I’m trying to do my part not to mess it up.”

  “That’s awesome,” she said.

  Great, so she was trapped with a man who was far too hot for his own good, and he was environmentally conscious. Doubly hot.

  As silence stretched between them, she finished her coffee. When she looked up, he was staring.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.”

  “So…” She struggled to figure out a new topic for discussion. “Why weren’t you going to the bear clan party?”

  “I decided to skip it this year.”

  “Why?”

  “You were there last year, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So you saw the slight altercation between Emma and Gabby?”

  “Slight altercation?” She raised a brow. “I thought they were going to kill each other.”

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t want to deal with that again.”

  “Emma and Gabby made up. They’re best friends now,” she said.

  “I heard.”

  “So why are you still worried?”

  “I don’t know who else might want to fight over me this year.”

  “Poor you,” she mocked. “Maybe if you didn’t screw every woman you met, you wouldn’t have groupie problems.”

  “I don’t screw every woman I meet. I haven’t slept with you.”

  “And you never will. Thanks for the coffee. I need a nap.”

  After setting the mug in the sink, she brushed past him and went back to the bedroom. She closed the door and leaned against it. He was bad news. Sleeping with him would be a terrible, terrible idea. So why were her panties still soaked?

  * * *

  Tristan did bother chasing her. No point. Besides, he didn’t want to continue their discussion about his sex life. It was none of her business anyway.

  He refilled his mug and walked to stand in front of the window. Outside, the storm raged. Snow pummeled the glass, leaving a ring of frost around it.

  He’d planned on spending a couple of weeks alone over the holidays so he could get his head on straight. He’d been on autopilot for so long, that he hadn’t really considered his future. But after the girl-fight last year, and after seeing his nephew for the first time, he wondered if he could have a better life.

  Although he loved having a new woman every week, it got exhausting after a while. Contrary to what Crystal seemed to think, he hadn’t been with a woman in almost four months. His mom had actually given him the eggnog creamer. She never understood his revolution to the holiday favorite. She insisted that the taste would grow on him, not a chance.

  He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t told Crystal that his mother had given it to him. Maybe he liked making her jealous. She was the only woman he hadn’t been with from their clan. Wouldn’t it be hilarious if she was his mate?

  His bear jumped up and pranced around in his chest. The beast has never met Crystal’s bear. Somehow, they’d never run into each other in bear form. His bear would have to sniff hers to see if they were mates. The irony killed him. If she was his mate, then he’d have some thinking to do. Even if they were a good match, it wouldn’t mean a damn thing if they couldn’t get along while in their human form.

  No, fate couldn’t be that mischievous.

  But maybe…

  He turned and looked at the closed door to his bedroom.

  Nah. Not a chance.

  His belly rumbled. He padded to the kitchen to look through the fridge. Leftover pizza? Nope. A half-eaten chicken? Nope.

  He shoved several items out of the way and located a tinfoil covered casserole dish. When he lifted the lid, the pungent scent of spoiled food assaulted his nose.

  “Yuck!”

  He tossed the contents into a trash bag, sealed it, and then walked it outside to the bear-proof trash bin.

  When he returned to the fridge, he opened the freezer. Thank goodness he had a tray of lasagna. His mom’s secret recipe. He never could get her to tell him all of the ingredients. So far he’d figured out a few: Italian sausage, bell pepper, onion, tomato paste. But there was something else, some spice he couldn’t put his finger on. One day he’d figure it out.

  After shoving the frozen block into the oven, he padded over to the living room. He flicked on the television. Although he didn’t have cable, he kept a huge store of movies on a flash drive that he could plug into the back of the smart TV.

  He flipped through the options and settled on his favorite holiday classic: Holiday Inn. As the film began, the bedroom door cracked open. Crystal poked her head out.

  “What are you watching?”

  “Holiday Inn.”

  “What is it?”

  “An old Christmas movie from the 1940s.”

  “Can I watch it with you?”

  “Sure.” He slid to one side of the couch to give her room. After she sat, he tossed the edge of the blanket over her lap. “Let me know if you want another blanket.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What’s it about?” She nodded at the screen.

  “Three people who find love during the holidays.”

  “I didn’t peg you as a romantic.”

  “I’m not just a pretty face.” He winked.

  “Why do you like this one?”

  “The song White Christmas by Irving Berlin was written for this movie. It won the Academy Award for best song that year. 1942, if I’m remembering correctly. Want any popcorn?”

  “Only if you’re making some for yourself.”

  “I’ll make some.”

  He paused the film long enough to make popcorn on the stove. He hated the microwave stuff. It tasted like plastic.

  “Here we go.” He set the giant bowl of steaming popcorn on the sofa between them.

  “Thank you.”

  “Dinner’s cooking. It should be ready when the movie’s over.”

  “Thank you. I’m sorry I was a bit of a grouch earlier. I really do appreciate your hospitality.”

  “I figure as long as you’re stuck here, I might as well be a good host.”

  “You are.”

  Her smile melted any lingering tension. He settled back against the couch and flicked on the movie. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad situation after all. He had plenty of guy friends, but no female friends. If nothing else, maybe they could become friends.

  His bear rolled its eyes and chuffed.

  He grimaced. Just because he’d never been friends with a woman, didn’t mean it couldn’t happen. It could totally happen, as long as he kept his hands to himself.

  To keep his paws occupied, he reached for more popcorn. She reached at the same moment and their fingers collided.

  “Oh, you go first,” she said.

  “No, go ahead.”

  “Thank you.”

  As the movie progressed, he tried to keep his attention on it. He’d seen it a dozen times before, so he knew the plot by heart. He stole glances at Crystal. Her radiant smile continued through the musical numbers on screen. This was much better than the pissed-off scowl on her face earlier.

  After the movie ended, he turned to her.

  “What did you think?”

  “I’m glad everyone ended up with the person they truly loved. Christmas time is so magical. I was really looking forward to the party. Oh well, maybe I’ll get home in time for Christmas.”

  “Do you have anyone waiting for you?” he asked. Maybe she already had a boyfriend he didn’t know about.

  “Nope, just my family. I usually go to my parent’s house, but my brother decided to host Christmas this year. I should call them. No one knows I’m here. They might be worried.”

  “I don’t have phone service here,” he said. “But I do have internet. I wanted to be away from the world, but not totally oblivious.”

  “Perfect. Do you mind if I email them?”

  “Sure. I’ll check dinner while you do it.”

  As she emailed her family, he inspected the lasagna. Cheese bubbled to release the scent of culinary perfection. He carefully pulled the tray from the oven and set it on trivets on the kitchen table.

  “Dinner’s ready,” he called.

  “Great. I’m starving.” She walked in and sat on the bench closest to the window. “I emailed everyone, so at least they know where I am. I told them I can’t leave until the storm passes. I checked the weather report and it doesn’t look good. Several more storms are coming in one after the other. I didn’t see any break in them until after Christmas.”

  “That’s three days away.”

  “I know.”

  “Well…I guess all we can do is make the best of it.” He served up two heaping plates of lasagna. “Dig in.”

  She took a bite then closed her eyes and moaned softly. “This is amazing.”

  “My mother made it. She likes to send care packages. I’m twenty-eight and she still thinks I’m a little kid.”

  “Because she loves you.”

  “I supposed.” He smiled.

  “I love that she uses allspice in her recipe.”

  His head snapped up. “Allspice?”

  “Yeah, it’s a combination of cinnamon, clove, and nutmeg. Sometimes I’ll sprinkle some in my omelet. It gives it a little kick.”

  He sat back. “I could kiss you right now.”

  “What?” She held a fork covered in lasagna halfway to her mouth.

  “I’ve been trying to figure out the secret ingredient for years. She refused to tell me. She said if I knew, I’d never let her cook for me again.”

  “Was she right?”

  “No,” he laughed. “My mom has magical cooking skills. Even if I had the exact measurements to a recipe, I’d screw it up somehow.”

  As she laughed, his heart thudded. She had the most beautiful laugh and smile he’d ever seen. And for a moment, he wanted to lean across the table and kiss her. But he held back. Now that she was warming up to him, he didn’t want to scare her away.

  4

  Crystal couldn’t remember the last time she’d been so stuffed. She felt like a Thanksgiving turkey. In addition to the incredible lasagna, he’d brought out a gallon of blueberry cheesecake ice cream. She’d tried to resist, but after one spoon of it, she’d asked for a whole bowl.

  They sat in front of the fire sipping peppermint tea. Warmth from the fire and the tea eased the tension in her spine. She’d never expected Tristan to be such a great host. She’d literally dropped into his life and he’d do everything in his power to make her happy. It was so confusing. She’d expected him to be a jerk, but he wasn’t.

  Her mind kept drifting back to the scorching hot kisses they’d shared earlier. Bedtime would be coming soon, and she couldn’t stop obsessing about the sleeping arrangements. She definitely couldn’t share a bed with him. That was just asking for trouble. But she didn’t want to leave him to sleep on the couch. So she’d take the couch and he could have his bed. Problem solved.

  He yawned and set his mug on an end table.

  “I can sleep on the couch if you can spare a few blankets,” she said.

  “Or… you could sleep in my bed.”

  “No way.” She jumped up so fast that the last sip of tea spilled over the rim of her cup and splashed down her shirt. His shirt. Her clothes still weren’t dry.

  “I won’t attack you…” he said with a frown. “And it will be warmer.”

  “Not happening. Just because you’ve banged half the women in the clan doesn’t mean I’m next.”

  “More than half,” he corrected.

  “Ugh! See, that’s exactly what I mean. I’m never sleeping with you, so stop thinking about it.”

  “How do you know I’m thinking about it? Maybe you’re not my type.”

  “Anything with legs and boobs is your type.”

  “I like women.” He shrugged.

  “I’ll be perfectly happy on the couch.”

  “Nope.” He shook his head. “You take the bed; I’ll take the couch.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I insist. That way you can lock the door and keep the big bad bear out of your new bed.”

  “I didn’t mean to imply—”

  “You can call me a lot of things, but I’ve never touched a woman who didn’t want to be touched. Never. So go ahead and lock the door, but you won’t need it. Believe it or not, I’m a gentleman.”

  “Fine!”

  “Fine!”

  She scooped up a pile of blankets and strode into the bedroom. After closing the door behind her, she hurled the blankets onto the bed.

  She turned to stare at the lock. He was right, she didn’t believe for a second that he’d come into the room without permission. He wasn’t that kind of man. But she locked it anyway. More to keep herself in, than him out.

  That kiss had really messed her up. Not the first one. She could handle that. But the second one. Holy crap. That kiss had made her weak in the knees.

  How hard had she bumped her head anyway? Maybe she did have a concussion. Maybe that’s why she kept looking at the door with puppy dog eyes.

  She cursed the ridiculousness of her train of thought. Of course she wasn’t going out there. She knew better than to encourage him. Look at what had happened the last time she’d encouraged him.

  After slipping beneath the blankets, she pounded the pile several times to get it just right. She flicked off the lamp.

  A minute passed.

  Then two.

  She stared at the ceiling. Even with all the blankets, cooler air seeped in to chill her. Maybe he had a heating blanket.

  After getting up, she flipped on the light and began rummaging through his closet. She didn’t find a blanket, but she found a box full of massage oils.

  She arched a brow as she read the labels: Sensual Delight; Cupid’s Cotton Candy; Victoria’s Naughty Spice.

  She flipped open the lid to the last one and sniffed. It smelled like Christmas. Cinnamon with a hint of pine and clove. Dark, sexy, sensual—like Tristan.

  Her mouth went dry. She licked her parched lips. Maybe she should have brought a glass of water in with her.

  After returning the oils to the closet, she eyed the door to the living room. She tiptoed over to it and pressed her ear against it. She listened intently for several seconds. She couldn’t hear anything. No snoring, no television, no movement. Was he asleep already?

  She carefully unlocked the door, trying as hard as she could not to make a sound. As she pulled open the door, she peeked into the living room. Tristan lay on the couch with the back of his head toward her, and his feet pointed in the opposite direction. She couldn’t see his face from this angle, so she couldn’t tell if he was asleep.

  Hoping he was asleep, she crept across the wooden floor. Several boards squeaked as she made her way to the kitchen.

  As soon as her bare feet touched the tile floor, she breathed a sigh of relief. She quickly grabbed a glass and filled it with water. She picked a silent path past the squeaky boards. As she passed behind the couch, she caught a glimpse of skin.

  She froze.

  Was he…

  Oh dear God…

  She leaned forward slightly to get a better look. Other than a blanket strategically placed over his cock, he was naked. Totally naked. And God help her, the hottest man she’d ever seen. Forget all the hard Hollywood bodies in movies, this was the real deal.

  The smooth muscles in his chest rose and fell with each breath. His abs rippled in time with his breath. And lower, a thin trail of hair traced a path from his bellybutton down. The damn blanket blocked her view.

  Beyond the blanket, tight thighs and muscular calves completed his perfection. Even his feet were gorgeous, if that were possible. Apparently it was because he was living proof.

  As she dragged her gaze back up his body, she sighed. So disgustingly hot. And so totally off limits. Her sanity couldn’t handle it. She’d never date someone like him. She’d never know if he was with her just for the sex, or if he truly cared about her.

  He rolled away from her onto his side. The blanket slid off of his tight butt, giving her a great view.

  A part of her wanted to sneak around and check out his cock too, but she couldn’t risk waking him. She’d already stood there for much longer than she should have. But that ass!

  She chewed on the edge of her bottom lip.

  As she took a step toward the bedroom, he rolled over to face her. Her heart dropped through the floor until she realized his eyes were still closed.

  Then she saw it.

  Long and thick with a mushroom-shaped head, he had the most perfect cock she’d ever seen. Not that she had a whole slew to compare it to, but still.

  She licked her lips and shook her head. If she didn’t get her ass back in the bedroom, she’d do something stupid for sure.

  She let her gaze travel down his completely naked body one last time. When her gaze reached his face, she almost had a heart attack.

  “You look beautiful in the firelight,” he whispered.

  Totally busted!

  “I, uh…” She fumbled around, searching for a response.

  “Did you need something?” he asked in a tone that suggested a more pointed question.

  “Water,” she choked.

  “So you’re thirsty?”

  Oh, she was thirsty all right.

  “A little.”

  He sat up and pat the cushion next to him. “Come over here.”

  “Over there?” she squeaked.

  “Right here. Unless you’d rather sit on my lap.”

  She glanced at the bedroom door, then back at him. This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. A dirty, naughty, reckless, rash decision.

  When he stood and circled around the couch to stand in front of her, in all his naked glory, she made the only decision that made any sense.

  * * *

  The moment the indecision in her eyes flashed to lust, he knew he had her. He’d heard the door crack open earlier and had wondered what she’d been up to. She wasn’t the only one thirsty for something wet. He scented her arousal. It wafted in to torment his senses. He needed to taste her. Everywhere.

 

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