The Spy Who Came For Christmas(13)

Her heartbeat thundered.

Then he gave that groan again. That sexy, ragged groan. “Delicious.” The desire in his gaze was shining even brighter and she didn’t know if he was talking about the chocolate—

Or me.

“Orgasm,” she whispered.

“What?” His eyes widened.

“I, um, that chocolate…it’s called Orgasm.” And she was blushing. Crap. So much for playing it cool. “My special reserve.”

She still had a little left in her hand.

But he bent and took it from her and when she felt the light rasp of his tongue on her skin, Jemma shivered.

“I like that reserve,” Grayson murmured. “One hell of a lot.” His head cocked as he studied her. “But I think one good orgasm deserves another, don’t you?”

Oh. My God. Yes, yes, I definitely do—

The bell over her door jingled.

She wanted to kill whoever was in that doorway. Painfully. Slowly. Grayson had turned at the jingle and he was staring at the door, too.

Staring at Matthew.

Matthew…who was holding flowers in his hands and looking miserable.

Matthew glanced at Grayson, gulped, then muttered. “Oh, shit.”

Grayson growled. He took a step toward the other guy, but Jemma grabbed his arm and held tight.

“Jemma…” Matthew didn’t move. Just kept looking miserable. “I wanted to apologize. For last night. For being…such a drunk jerk.”

“It’s all right,” she said, voice soft but flat.

“The hell it is,” Grayson fired back.

Matthew took a few cautious steps toward her counter and he put the flowers he held—yellow roses—near her register. “I picked these up from Silver Bells. They’re yellow—for friendship,” he emphasized with a quick, nervous glance at Grayson.

Grayson just kept glaring.

Matthew exhaled and straightened his shoulders as he said, “Dude, someone wrecked my ride. My head still feels like shit today, and I’ve got a giant bruise on my stomach where you punched me.” Matthew swallowed, the click of his Adam’s apple overly loud. “I’m suffering, okay?” His stare focused on Jemma. “And I hate that I said that shit to you, Jemma. I’m sorry.”

He actually sounded as if he meant his apology, so she said, “Thanks, Matthew.”

“You’re a class act, Jemma. And when I get drunk, I say stupid crap. It won’t happen again.”

“Better not,” Grayson warned darkly.

“It won’t. I swear.” Matthew hurried for the door. “I’ll, um, just let myself out.”

“Yeah, you do that.” Grayson kept glaring as the guy ran away. Then he picked up the flowers and glared at them, too.

Jemma laughed. “Grayson…”

“He seriously thinks he has a shot with you.”

“He does not.” Even Matthew wasn’t that clueless.

His glare on the flowers became even worse. “I bet you don’t even like roses.”

“Um, actually, I don’t.” He’d surprised her. “I like Forget-Me-Nots.” Something about the simple beauty of a Forget-Me-Not had always appealed to her.

Grayson pursed his lips. “And Silver Bells—where is that?”

“Right around the corner. It’s the local flower shop.” Right. Like he hadn’t figured that out. She gave a quick shake of her head. “We’re still on for tonight, right? I mean—our date?”

“Damn straight. That’s why I’m here.”

“Good.” She pushed Matthew from her mind and got back to what mattered. “Because I have a surprise for you.”

“Another one? I’m still savoring your last surprise.”

Her last—

Orgasm. “Glad you liked it.” She was blushing as she said those words. She’d never told any of the men she dated—such brief dates—about her reserve. But Gray was different.

His mouth hitched into a half-smile. That half-smile was ridiculously sexy. “Just so you know, I am definitely a more-than-one-orgasm a night kind of guy.”

Noted.

As fast as she could, Jemma finished shutting down her shop. She hung up her apron and hurried for the door, pulling Grayson with her. The snow was still falling—just a light dusting, and the sky had darkened. The lights were sparkling from all the shops as they headed down Main Street.

They’d both put on gloves before they left her shop, and Grayson took her gloved hand in his, twining his fingers with hers. On the corner, a group of carolers were singing Silent Night. The whole town was lit up. Glowing.

Happy.

And in that moment, with Grayson at her side, she was happy, too.

They stopped a bit, listening to the carolers. She usually joined in the singing, too, but…not that night. She had other plans. A special arrangement she’d worked out just for Grayson.

She glanced over at him. “Hope you’re up for some adventure.”

He quirked his brows at her.

Laughing, she led the way…away from the carolers and the lights, down, slipping away from the crowd and onto the next street. And, there, with lights glowing around it…Holly’s small ice skating rink waited.

No one else was around—just Zack, the teen who ran the place during the holidays. She’d slipped him an extra fifty when he came by for his chocolate fix earlier, and he’d agreed to give her private access to the rink. “It’s normally closed at this hour,” she told Grayson as they headed toward Zack and the booth of skate rentals that waited. “But we’re getting the VIP treatment tonight.”