Page 12 of Naughty-ish

“I don’t—”

Nick raises his glove-covered hand to stop my refusal. “Just get dressed.” He steps forward, forcing me back into my house where the cold from outside finally hits me, especially between my thighs and along my bare legs.

“As much as I really like what you’re wearing”—he draws a hand up and down before me as he closes the door behind him—“We’ll be outside, so you should probably bundle up.”

The idea that I’m standing in for someone else doesn’t settle well with me, but the prospect of a night out has me curious.

“Where are we going?” I tilt my head, taking in the heavy coat he wears with a scarf around his neck and the bright red cap on his head.

“Let me surprise you.”

He has no idea I’m already surprised. Shocked that he’s asking me out. Stumped that he’s standing in my house. I don’t think he’s ever been in here.

“Maybe some long underwear, if you have it. Definitely layers with thick socks and boots.” His eyes scan my exposed legs again. The edge of my flannel shirt only hits my upper thighs.

“Okay. Give me a second.” I scrape hair up the back of my neck again, futilely tucking pieces into the messy bun.

“I’ll wait.” His salacious tone must be my imagination but the ripple up my middle is like drinking something cold too quickly. The rush is a buzz. And on shaky legs, I thunder up my stairs to get dressed.

Chapter 3

Being as I didn’t know where we were going or what we were doing, I dressed in layers as Nick suggested but layering isn’t exactly sexy. My leggings felt bulky with long underwear underneath them, plus I wear thick boot socks that peek out the top of my leather riders. My bulky, long coat and a thick scarf plus a knit hat to cover my hair because it was a riot of waves after being tucked in a bun, completed my outfit.

Nick opened the door of his truck for me and even helped me up. Once I’m shut inside, he rounds the hood and enters, starting the engine and cranking up the heat. A woman screeches through the sound system about being woken up inside.

“Evanescence fan?” I arch a brow at him.

He chuckles. “Are you?”

“Not exactly.”

“I bet you like all those Christmas carols. Been listening since Halloween on that station that pushes the season to October.” He guffaws again.

“Yeah, not exactly.” I stare out the window knowing he’s only teasing and means well but I’ve struggled to listen to holiday music this year.

“Hey,” Nick softly says, drawing my attention back to him. “I’m only joking.”

“I know. It’s just . . .” I wasn’t certain I could explain myself but figured what the hell. “Some songs are so sad. Take “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” I mean, I just want to cry every time I hear it. Or “White Christmas.” You just know that’s for military guys who can’t spend the holidays at home.”

Nick stares out the windshield as I wind up.

“And then there’s the questionable ones like “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” which is still a favorite, but you can’t say that anymore. Maybe he just really wants her to stay. And she really doesn’t want to go.”

The corner of Nick’s mouth curls.

“Or that flipping “All I Want For Christmas Is You” song. Could it get any cheesier? How did it become the quintessential Christmas tune?”

“You got something against Mariah Carey?” Nick laughs.

“Do you have something for her?”

He laughs harder. “Can’t say she’s exactly my type.”

I scoff. The woman he had plastered to his door last summer could have been the famous singer’s twin. All long legs and big boobs and curves like a toboggan run. If she wasn’t his type, I’m definitely not his thing. Not that I need to be his thing, I just . . . oh, never mind.

“Anyway, I just don’t seem to be in the mood for Christmas songs this year.”

“Because of your ex?” Nick’s voice is serious while he switches on his blinker, and we curl onto the highway heading north.