Tangled in Tinsel (Holidates #1)(2)

She whistles. “Wait, you’re working for that hot-ass CEO again—you left that out this morning when you tore out of here.”

“One, I was going to be late because the roads were already slushy. Two, I told you I was doing some fun festivities decorating for a who’s-who private party. That’s all the info you need.”

She’s not even listening to me because she keeps going.

“—And let’s not forget his band of equally fuckable friends. Are those the ‘associates’ because I’d like them to associate their tongue with my—”

“Oh my god,” I rush out, interrupting her. “I’m hanging up on you. You’re so disgusting. I’m working. What do you want?”

I can picture her evil grin.

“Come on. Fess up…you’ve never, ever thought about it?”

I look over my shoulder before I answer her.

“I’m perfectly capable of entertaining my fantasies with the help of my vibrator. There. Happy?”

“You’re so boring.”

“Hanging up,” I counter, sing-songy.

“Shut up. I’m calling because have you checked the news?”

I’m shaking my head as I climb down the ladder.

“No, I haven’t. What about I’m working is so confusing?”

The sound of her television gets louder until I hear every word.

If you wished for a white Christmas, it looks like Jack Frost has finally arrived.

We’re expecting a record number of inches here in many parts of the East Bay. And in Stanislaus County and its surrounding areas, we’re anticipating feet, not inches, of snow. It’s all happening pretty quickly, folks. Make sure you bundle up because, as you can see, the temperatures are dropping by the minute. It’s time to bring in that firewood and make that last trip to the store because you’ll need those marshmallows for roasting over the next week. You can see Highway 80 here, and it’s already a mess—

Elle’s voice takes over again as the television gets quiet.

“Don’t you take Highway 80? Sam, please tell me you’re done and heading home in the next three minutes.”

I reach around to my back pocket, pulling out my phone. Shit, shit, shit.

“Sam,” she presses, but I don’t answer.

I’m staring down, looking at the maps on my screen. What took me an hour here already shows six on the way back.

“Dammit,” I whisper to myself.

My sister huffs, “I said this morning when you left that there would be a storm. But you never listen—”

“Eleanor,” I interrupt. “Stop talking. I need to finish this tree, and you need to call around and see if you can find me a hotel nearby. I’ll never make it back down this mountain in my Porsche. I’m already screwed.”

“Bitch, are you crazy? Forget the tree. Scram. You might not make it to the hotel.”

“Can you not be so dramatic? I’ll be fine. I just need to wrap this up. You go and find me a decent hotel. Please, and thank you.”

I start to hang up before hurriedly adding, “With room service.”

Elle scoffs in my ear just as the front door swings open. A cold gust of wind forces me to step back as snow flurries inside, along with very blue eyes.

“I have to go,” I whisper, not knowing if she’s still on the phone, as I take out my earpieces and pocket them.

Alec Price is standing just inside the entry by the oversized front door, shaking out snow from his salt-and-pepper hair as he greets me. He’s only forty, but the look suits him.

“Samantha.”

He always pauses for a moment after he says my name. As if he’s considering his words carefully. It kind of knocks me off-balance, figuratively. Okay, maybe I stumble sometimes, but playing it cool around him is hard.

Tucking my phone back into my dark skinny jeans, I place my “work smile” on my face as Alec strides toward me to join me in the living room.

“Wow, it’s really coming down out there, huh? Speaking of that fact—”

I’m suddenly stunned silent because I’d swear Alec’s eyes just drifted down my frame. He just checked me out. No, that can’t be right.

I clear my throat, trying to recover.

“Umm... I hear the storm’s pretty bad—”

Oh my god. He did it again. I look down at myself in my cream, off-the-shoulder sweater and dark skinny jeans, wondering what’s happening as he makes his way in front of me.

There has to be something wrong with my outfit. He can’t be checking me out. It’s not my usual work attire, but we’re in the mountains, and it’s cold. What does he expect me to wear? I open my mouth to finish, but he ignores me, speaking instead.

“The room’s perfect. Almost as gorgeous as you—”

He pauses in that way again before inhaling slowly and letting it drift out, adding, “I can’t wait to discover all the other talents you’re hiding from me.”

The gravel in his voice spreads over my skin, leaving hidden goosebumps, making me shiver. Close your mouth, Samantha. My lips fold under my teeth as I try to unscramble my brain. But I’m not even a little successful because all I can manage is a breathless, “Other talents?”

What the hell is happening?