Chapter 9
NINE
When my back hits the wall, I yelp, my phone falling to the ground with a clatter.
Panic surges through me before it melts into something different altogether as my brain processes that Adam Porter is hovering over me, one hand on the wall beside my head, the other resting on my hip after gripping me there to corner me.
“What are you doing here?” he asks after a moment.
My eyes are locked on his, and stupidly, I note that they’re not brown, like I initially thought, but the prettiest greenish-hazel color, and the lashes are long and dark.
Why do men always seem to have the longest, darkest eyelashes, while women are left to resort to gluing little things onto their eyelids or caking on layers of mascara to get anything close?
“Wren.” My name rumbles through me, making my mind return to the task at hand.
“Hey, Adam. Funny seeing you here.”
That was the best I could do?
But when a smirk forms on his lips, any regrets of not having a better response melt away. “In my own house?”
I shrug as best as I can. “I thought you weren’t home. Your car isn’t out front.”
“It’s in the garage. What are you doing here?”
I roll my lips between my teeth, and his eyes follow the movement. My heart pounding has nothing to do with him watching my lips and everything to do with getting caught, but it surely isn’t helping.
“I’m on a mission,” I finally reply in a faint whisper.
“A mission?”
“I’m infiltrating enemy territory to get my fallen comrade back.” His lips tip for the tiniest of seconds before it’s gone, the entertainment fleeting, but there.
“How did you get in? I think this would be considered breaking and entering.”
“Just entering, actually. I had a key.”
His brow furrows. “Why do you have a key for my house?”
“I used to house-sit for the Demauros. Not my fault that you didn’t change the locks.”
“Of course you did.” He pauses, and silence hangs between us. His chest is pressed to mine, his face just inches from mine, and I wonder if he can feel my pounding heart. If so, I sure hope he’s just assuming it’s because I’ve been caught in his house.
“Are you going to give me back my nutcracker?” I ask, staring up at him, heart pounding. “I feel like I earned it at this point. I made it this far.”
He hesitates for a moment before speaking.
“What do I get out of it?” he asks.
“I’m not taking down the decorations.”
“Then counter,” he insists.
Again, my heart is pounding in my chest. His eyes drop from mine, then focus on my lips, then back to my eyes, and my lips part, his breath coasting over them in a terrible replacement of what I really want at this moment.
Suddenly, I don’t care if I ever get that nutcracker back.
For some reason, I find myself wanting Scrooge himself to kiss me.
“Ask for what you want, Wren.” The words are a quiet rumble that settles in my bones. I wonder if he can read my mind, if he knows I’m thinking about some other counteroffer that is so far from decorations, it’s not even funny.
“Ask for it, and I’ll give it to you,” he whispers, confirming my fears. His eyes dip to my lips and back up. “You never ask for what you want, but I’m telling you right now, you will when it comes to me, Birdie.”
The only thing I can think of right now is a kiss.
My mind can only focus on ways to try and get him to dip his head a bit. Would that be a good counter? Would he accept a kiss as payment? Maybe I could get the kiss and my decoration back. That would definitely be a successful mission, right?
Before an answer can leave my lips, though, a familiar voice is calling out, “Well, this looks cozy.”
There’s a pause, then my eyes go wide with panic as the realization of what almost just happened fills my mind.
When he sees it, Adam steps back, putting three feet between us.
I linger against the wall for a second too long, I’m sure, to seem natural, but I’m unable to stand straight after being so close to him.
I also can’t move my eyes from Adam, and I watch as his lips tip in an almost imperceptible way, like he’s well aware of his impact on me and happy about it, before his face goes blank and he turns to Hallie.
“Did I interrupt something?” she asks, stepping into the living room. “I thought I would come in here to rescue you, but I don’t know if you actually need any rescuing.”
“What are you doing here?” Adam asks, looking between my best friend and me. Before I have to explain once again, Hallie speaks.
“You’re holding her nutcracker hostage. We’re attempting a reconnaissance mission.”
Adam fights back a smirk, face remaining stoic, but I see it for what it is: a mask.
“So you two really broke into my house to get a nutcracker back?”
“You’re the one sending my best friend ransom notes like the Zodiac Killer.”
“Okay, Hallie—” I start, seeing that this is going to start spiraling soon, my headstrong best friend battling against my incredibly stubborn neighbor.
“She’s the one leaving her shit all over my lawn.”
“So you’re holding her beloved nutcracker as repayment? Isn’t that a bit childish? She’s just trying to bring a little bit of cheer to the town. It’s tradition, after all, for the whole town to be lit up.”
“I just don’t see why that has to be my problem. I don’t like Christmas; I don’t know why my house being undecorated is such a big deal,” he counters.
“Because you’re a part of the town! We decorate in this town,” Hallie says, voice rising as she throws her hands up in frustration. It’s interesting watching the argument for this side of things, when usually I’m in Hallie’s position.
Unfortunately, despite how entertaining this all is, today has been a long day, and I have at least a dozen more cookies to finish baking before I can even think about heading to bed. I try to mask a yawn, but Adam’s attention is instantly on me.
“You look exhausted,” he says, taking a half step closer to me. There’s an irritated look on his face, as if the idea of my being tired genuinely annoys him.
“Oh, just what every woman wants to hear,” Hallie says, and he turns his head to glare at her, though his body stays pointed toward me.
“I didn’t say she doesn’t look gorgeous. I said she looks tired, probably because she’s up until one a.m. every damn night, working her own fucking Santa’s workshop.”
“Are you stalking her?” Hallie asks with wide eyes. Adam rolls his, and I have to bite back a smile, knowing that this is another conversation Adam and I have already had.
“No, her office is across from mine so that I can see her lights on all night. She’s exhausted because she refuses to go to sleep at a reasonable hour.”
Something in my mind pings, and I turn to him. “You’re also up, you know.”
“But that’s because I’m doing work for myself, not favors for other people.”
I purse my lips in defeat, then watch the grin spread over his face. That’s when Hallie turns her ire on me.
“What were you working on?”
I sigh. God, now Hallie is never going to let me live in peace.
“Last night I was working on decorations for the holiday party.”
“Wren,” she says, giving me a disapproving look. “That’s not your job. You took over the Thanksgiving decorations!”
“I know, I know, but I offered to do it because Grace just got a puppy and it’s keeping her up all night and—”
Hallie’s face goes into full-on frustration before she throws her hands in the air, turning her body fully toward me. “Willingly! She willingly got a puppy, Wren. What does her getting a puppy have to do with you losing sleep?”
I shake my head, tired of this conversation already. “It’s for work, Hal.”
“Are you getting paid for it?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. I don’t respond because we both know that answer. The standoff lasts a few moments before it’s interrupted.
“What is work, by the way?” Adam asks, and we turn to him, having almost forgotten he was there.
Almost.
“What?” I ask, confused by the question.
“You’re up late every night, and you leave at the crack of dawn. What kind of work could require that?”
“She’s a second-grade teacher,” Hallie says with exasperation before I can respond. “But she volunteers to monitor before-care and always ends up staying late to help someone with something because she doesn’t know how to prioritize herself.”
“That’s not fair—”
She cuts me off before I can complete my argument, crossing her arms on her chest. “When was the last time you did something for yourself?”
“I’m manning the decorating committee for me,” I counter, and even though she doesn’t say anything, she gives me a pitying look, telling me she doesn’t actually think that’s being done for me.
I’m relieved that she doesn’t call me out on that in front of Adam.
He already has his suspicions, and I don’t need two people on my case about it.
“I’m changing my demands,” he says, knocking Hallie and me out of our staredown. We both turn to look at Adam, but his focus is only on me. A wave of heat moves through me with the fierce look.
“What?” I ask skeptically. I don’t think I’m going to like where this is going.
“I‘m changing my demands. If you go to bed on time tonight, you’ll get your nutcracker back.”
I stare for a moment, blinking at him. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Go to bed at a reasonable hour, and I’ll give you back your nutcracker.”
“Oh, this is getting good,” Hallie says.
I ignore her, keeping my eyes locked on my neighbor. “Are you serious right now?”
“Yes. If you go to sleep at a normal hour—” I open my mouth to argue, then he corrects himself. “Before ten p.m., I will give you back your nutcracker.”
“Ten p.m.? That’s ridiculous, I—”
He keeps talking as if I didn’t say a word.
“Until you take care of yourself, I’m going to be taking care of your nutcracker.”
I stare at him for long moments before huffing out a disbelieving laugh. “And you’ll keep the decorations up?”
“I never said that.”
“Then what do I get out of this?”
“Your nutcracker? Sleep that your body clearly needs?” I speak before I think about the words I’m about to say.
“What do you know about what my body needs?” Silence fills the room, and my heart pounds as Adam’s eyes rake over my body. My breaths come a bit quicker as the silence spans, and the edges of his lips tip up.
He doesn’t say anything at all.
He doesn’t have to. His look says it all.
I’m scrambling to think of some kind of reply, but Hallie beats me to it, breaking the tension with a well-timed Hallie quip.
“Oh my god, this is so hot,” she murmurs, and when I turn to her, she waves a hand at her face as if she’s genuinely overheating. I roll my eyes at her, but it’s the distraction I need to come to my senses.
I need to get out of here, and I need to do it before I say something incredibly stupid.
“Come on. I have cookies to make,” I grumble to the woman I thought was my best friend, tipping my head toward the door we both came in through.
“And you have to finish everything up so you can get to bed on time,” Adam says.
I don’t have to look at him to know he’s smiling, and I don’t respond; instead, I walk out of his house without a second look behind me.
“I’m kind of thinking you should stay up extra late,” Hallie says as she steps outside. “See just how far you can push him.” Adam lets out a grunt from behind me, but I continue, moving down the steps to his deck, then through his backyard into mine.
But as I enter my own house, I can’t help but wonder…just what would he do?