Mistletoe and Margaritas by Shannon Stacey Read Free Book Online Page A

together.
    He put off facing the music as long as he could, even taking an exceptionally long time brushing his teeth, but when she banged on the door and told him breakfast was on the table, he finished up and took a deep breath before opening the door.
    She didn’t look any different. The hair he’d buried his face in only hours before was piled on top of her head in a messy knot. She’d thrown on a T-shirt and sweatpants, along with the clunky, sheepskin-lined slippers he’d bought her for Christmas last year. The garage under her apartment wasn’t heated, so the floor tended to be cold. As she set two mugs of coffee on the table, he watched her and, no, she didn’t look any different than the last time she’d done it.
    But everything was different because now he knew. He knew what it felt like to hold her. He knew what her body felt like under his and what her long legs felt like wrapped around his hips. And he didn’t know if he’d ever get to feel it again.
    And he already wanted to.
    Since she already had everything on the table, he took his seat and dug in. They’d burned more than a few calories before falling asleep. But, hungry as he was, he wasn’t so intent on his breakfast he missed the fact she was avoiding eye contact. In his experience, when a woman you’d spent the night with wouldn’t look you in the eye, she either had a bellyful of regret or you sucked in the sack. Or so he’d heard.
    “I guess I should thank you.”
    He paused with a forkful of home fries halfway to his mouth. That was an odd thing to say. “Thank me for what?”
    “You know…for last night.”
    “Then I have to thank you, too, because it was mutually amazing. I think. I…hope.” Before he’d been sure it had been just as good for her as it had been for him, but now he was sitting across from a woman who didn’t look like she’d had her socks knocked off between the sheets.
    “It was!” She said it a little too quickly for his taste. “It was definitely amazing. And that’s why I said thank you.”
    “Okay. You’re welcome, I guess.” He couldn’t shake the feeling he was missing something in this conversation.
    “It meant a lot to me to…test the waters, so to speak, with a guy I trust so much.” She took a deep breath and smiled at him. “You’re a good friend.”
    Oh, hell no. He was…what? A test drive to make sure all her parts were in working order before she went on a real date? “Tell me you didn’t just say that.”
    “You are a good friend.” She looked confused. “You’re my best friend.”
    “If you want a buddy, get a golden retriever,” he muttered, and then he shoved the home fries into his mouth to shut himself up.
    Claire dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter. “I knew it. This is why friends shouldn’t have sex. Now it’s going to be weird.”
    “No, you thanking me like I gave you a tire and lube job so you can go on a road trip is making it weird.” As he watched her expression change to one of restrained amusement, he replayed his words in his mind and groaned. “You know what I mean.”
    “Lube job isn’t the sexiest euphemism I’ve ever heard,” she said, her voice heavy with suppressed laughter. “But you did give me one helluva tune-up.”
    He laughed and then shook his head. “Wise ass.”
    With amusement written all over her face, Claire dug into her breakfast, so he followed suit. But, as the food slowly disappeared, the tension grew thick again.
    Pretty soon it would be time for him to go and he had no idea where they stood. Was she even expecting him to go or was he supposed to spend the day with her? And, if he went, did he kiss her goodbye?
    The only thing he knew for sure was that he’d made one hell of a mess of things.
    He was swallowing the last bite of his veggie omelet when she said softly, “Did I wreck everything? Is it going to stay weird now?”
    “You didn’t wreck anything.” Except maybe him, since there was something that