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“Spiff?” Murphy’s frown was evident in his tone even though it was too dark to see his expression. “Not sure I like the sound of that.”
“We need a little Christmas around here.”
“Oh, God. You’re not going to sing, are you?”
“Maybe.” She giggled and cleared her throat as if she was going to belt out a carol or two.
“Wait! Please, no.” He moved into a shaft of moonlight and she saw his grin. She also saw all that delectable bare chest and swallowed hard. “I’m a little too wound up to sleep right now too. How about I turn on the TV and we see if there’s anything good on?”
“Okay.”
He picked up the remote and clicked on the flat screen then patted the sofa cushion beside him. “Sit over here. You’ll be able to see better.”
Common sense said that was a huge mistake. Too bad her feet had a mind of their own and were already carrying her over there before she even realized where she was heading. Burrowing into the corner farthest away from him and tucking her feet beneath her, Shayma grabbed one end of his blanket and dutifully kept her eyes on the TV screen. If she didn’t look at him, she could pretend he wasn’t there. That was how this worked, right?
Murphy flipped through channels until she stopped him.
“Oh, this is my favorite holiday movie!” Shayma all but squealed in delight. “Meet Me in St. Louis. Did you know that the song Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas came from this film?”
From his end of the sofa, Murphy gave a long-suffering sigh and tossed the remote down. “No, I did not,” he said, with all the enthusiasm of a drugged sloth. “But I like old movies, so this is cool.”
His tone said the exact opposite and Shayma frowned. “Don’t you like Christmas?”
“I love the holidays,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It’s just not the same this year without Aileen here to celebrate with me. She’s the only family I’ve got. Since my mom left and my dad died, it’s just me and her.”
Her heart shattered for him in that moment. Why hadn’t she considered that? “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine,” he said, his voice tight. “Jus
t watch the movie.”
As time went on and they lost themselves in the story of young girls trying to get dates to the St. Louis World’s Fair of 1904—or the Louisiana Purchase Exposition as it was formally known—Shayma found herself relaxing more and spreading out on the sofa. Murphy too had sprawled out, taking up more than his half by that point, his leg brushing against her foot beneath the blanket they shared. By the time Judy Garland got to her tearful rendition of Shayma’s favorite Christmas carol, she was blinking hard against the sting of tears in her own eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was cry in front of Murphy.
But everything was so lovely in the film—all the ladies and their dresses, the scenery, the music. Before she knew it, her eyes grew heavy and she nodded off. When she came to, her head was resting on something warm and hard and there was a tickle near her temple. She pried open her scratchy eyes to see Murphy sound asleep beside her, his head resting atop hers, his chest beneath her cheek. Deep inside her, something tightly coiled began to unfurl. She could see herself staying there, with him, his arm wrapped around her shoulders protectively, forever. And that scared the bejeezus out of her.
It was too soon. She’d just broken things off with Daveed. Murphy was her ex’s best friend. There were so very many reasons why this was all so wrong. And yet, this—right now—felt so very, very right.
The steady pound of his heart matched hers and it took every ounce of willpower Shayma possessed to slowly disengage herself from Murphy without waking him, and make her way back to her cold, lonely bed by herself. She kept repeating in her mind the whole time that this was the right thing, the best thing for both of them.
Maybe, if she kept looping those words through her fatigued brain, one day she’d believe them.
3
Murphy walked back into his sister’s apartment early the next morning carrying two fresh coffees and a bag of rolls from the diner down the street. Shayma had still been asleep when he’d gotten up an hour prior and he didn’t have the heart to wake her.
When she’d first suggested watching that movie last night, his instincts had told him it was a bad idea. He needed to keep his distance from her if he had any hopes of this partnership between them working. But then she’d looked so happy and excited when the film started. Truth was, he’d liked it too. That movie was one of Aileen’s favorites as well and watching it had made him feel like his sister was back with him, even for a little while.
At some point he’d fallen asleep and when he’d awakened during the wee hours it was to find himself alone on the sofa and Shayma safely back in her bed. Thank God. He wasn’t sure if he’d have the moral fortitude to keep his hands off of her if she’d been all cuddled up to his side looking as luscious as she did.
He unlocked the door and shoved it open with his hip only to come face-to-face with the woman foremost in his thoughts at that moment. He stopped short and held up his goodies. “Brought breakfast.”
“Oh, great,” she said, her smile shy. They were both still dressed in their clothes from the day before, but he’d showered before he’d left to go to the diner and if her damp hair was any indication, she’d done so as well while he’d been gone. She reached over and took the coffees from him then headed into the kitchen. “For a minute, when I woke up and you were gone, I thought maybe you’d left without me to visit your inventor.”
“He’s not my inventor,” Murphy said, setting the bag of rolls on the counter then grabbing a couple of plates. Shayma’s English was perfect, but every so often a slight hint of an accent would show through, especially when she was tired or emotional, as he learned last night. For some reason, that only made her more endearing to him. Then again, just about everything she did he found adorable. Which was bad. He was in trouble here and he’d be wise to heed the warning bells blaring in his damned head and stay the hell away from her. Instead, he handed her a plate with a roll on it and grinned like an idiot.
Yep. He was a disaster waiting to happen.
They took a seat at the breakfast bar to eat and he did his best to concentrate on his food, and not the beautiful, warm woman by his side. “I hope you like that coffee. I wasn’t sure what you wanted, but since you love Christmas so much, I got you the kind with peppermint in it. Aileen always liked that kind this time of year.”
