Something was up. I could feel it in my gut, but I let it go. It was Christmas, and I wasn’t going to cause a stir.
After finishing their drinks, my parents and Aunt Zoe had called it a night. Doc and I followed in their wake a short time later, leaving Natalie to settle in on the couch. Doc had wasted no time brushing his teeth and stretching out under the comforter on my bed.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t sit still once we were alone. What was going on with my sister? I wasn’t buying my mom’s explanation that Susan was on her best behavior because of the holiday. Christmas had never derailed the destructive brat from her relentless mission to screw with my happiness before. No matter what my mom thought, a tiger couldn’t change its stripes, a leopard couldn’t shake its spots, and a snake was a snake, period.
I pulled off my sweater and tossed it on the end of the bed. “I’m telling you, Susan is up to no good.” I slid in next to Doc beneath the flannel sheets. “Did she say anything to you when I went next door with Natalie to help get the guys settled in over there?”
“No. She didn’t come upstairs at all as far as I know.” He leaned on his elbow, watching me fluff and re-fluff my pillow, unable to poof it up just right. “Your sister probably took one look at me, saw how nuts I am about you, and figured that singing her siren song near me would be a waste of energy.”
I smirked at him. “You’re definitely nuts, but there has to be a reason for her not trying to seduce you.”
“You do realize that you’re exhibiting signs of paranoia, right?”
I pulled the covers up to my chin. “My bet is she’s biding her time before she delivers her next low blow.”
“For example, an abnormal fear of being deceived is typical with paranoia sufferers.”
I pulled my legs up, rubbing my cold heels on the warm sheets. “She’s just waiting to catch me off guard, you’ll see.”
He glanced down at the hill I’d made under the covers. “The inability to relax is another telltale sign.”
I flattened my legs and blew out a breath. “I’m not paranoid, Doc.”
The small Christmas tree my mom had set up on my dresser shed a soft light on his smile. “Denial is a red flag. It goes hand-in-hand with the characteristic argumentative predisposition of a paranoid disorder.”
“Yeah, well you’d be paranoid, too, if you’d endured the shit I have from Susan.”
“Undoubtedly.” His thumb traced my jawline, his gaze locking onto my mouth. “Merry Christmas, Boots. What’s that little number you’re wearing under the covers?”
Oh, yeah! Susan had me so distracted I’d forgotten about the gift with which I’d planned to surprise him once we were alone.
I peeled back the covers. “It’s a little present for you.”
“For me?” He whistled through his teeth, pushing the covers back further. He admired the skimpy Mrs. Claus lingerie getup first with his eyes and then with his fingers. “It’s little, all right, and see-through in all of the right places. The velvet is a nice touch. All it’s missing is bells and lights.”
I snuggled closer to him. “I’d ask you to kiss me, but we don’t have any mistletoe close by.”
“Damn. I’ll just have to kiss everywhere but your lips for now.” He started with my neck and headed south, warming me up so much I didn’t miss the covers. His beard stubble tickled my libido awake, spurring me to move against him for even more pleasure.
Outside the bedroom window, the wind whistled while snow pelted the glass. I wrapped my leg around him, my foot rubbing up and down his calf as his lips skimmed over my skin.
He groaned, lifting his face from the velvet and lace bra. “Woman, your foot is like a block of ice.”
“I know. You need to heat me up.”
I shifted and my knee collided with his thigh.
He grunted. “Hold still for a minute.” He turned me onto my side and pulled me against him, spooning out his warmth up and down my back. His breath tickled my shoulder.
“There. That’s better.” His hand drifted south to my waist, his palm heating my goose bump–covered skin. “Why are you so cold?”
“My dad likes to keep the house chillier than Aunt Zoe does in the winter.” I found his ankle with my frozen toes. “I usually wear flannel pajamas to bed when I sleep in here, but since you’re in bed with me, I skipped the extra layers.”
“I appreciate that.” He nuzzled my neck, his hand sneaking inside the red velvet panties, rubbing over my hip. “Your bare skin is one of my favorite things.”
I could tell. His body language left no doubts. I smiled and closed my eyes. “No pajamas means your job is to thaw my frozen parts.”
His lips trailed along my shoulder. “I have just the thing to heat you up.”
“Oh, really?”
“Uh-huh.” He shifted away from me, making the bed move. The sound of paper crinkling made me open my eyes. What was he …
A small present appeared in front of my face. “Merry Christmas, Miss Frosty Toes.”
I took the present from him and rolled onto my back, squeezing it through the wrapping paper. “It’s squishy.”
“I thought you said squeezing presents was off limits.”
“It is when they’re not my presents.” I peeled off the paper. Holding up the thick bundle in the dim glow. “You got me socks?”
“Not just any socks, sweetheart. These are pure cashmere purple socks guaranteed to thaw those frozen nuggets currently wedged under my leg.”
I giggled and reached down under the covers, pulling on one sock and then the other. “Wow, they’re really warm.” Turning so I faced him,
