Chapter 2 – Merry Bartholomew
WHERE THE HECK DID CHRISTMAS GO?
MERRY BARTHOLOMEW
This guy so needs my help. His whole house is just so dark and…stilted?
Is that the right word?
“Where are your Christmas decorations?”
“I don’t do Christmas,” he growls. My whole body goes hot and my clit throbs.
There is something about this guy. His dark hair is ruffled like he’s been running his fingers through it. There’s a streak of green and one of blue on his chiseled cheekbone and my fingers itch to reach out and touch it.
His pale blue eyes are ice chips and his sensually-curved lips are twisted into a grimace.
“Why not?”
“I don’t like the holidays…number one. Number two…I’m really busy getting ready for this show. I don’t have time to throw a bunch of goofy crap around my house that I don’t want and don’t have time to enjoy.”
I pat his shoulder and my mouth goes a little dry. He is rock-hard and I am fighting not to reach out and pet him like a kitten.
I get the feeling that wouldn’t go over well with him.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of all of it. That’s what I’m here for. To make your life easier and take care of everything else so that you can get everything finished for your show.” Smirking, I can’t resist the urge to pat his boulder shoulder again. “I’m a huge fan of yours by the way.”
He glares at me and my clit pulses. Grumpy, grouchy seems to do it for me.
Who knew?
“If you were a true fan of mine you’d know that I don’t know like Christmas.”
“Everybody likes Christmas.” I walk into his studio and he tries to stand in front of me, blocking me from entering. “What are you doing?”
“I told you. I don’t like Christmas. I don’t want you here. I don’t want anything to do with whatever holiday cheer you’re selling.”
“Did you happen to notice that you haven’t even asked my name?” I quirk a brow at him and the guy just grunts.
“That’s because you’re not staying.”
“So you want them to cancel your show?” I don’t even blink. I know I’m getting under this guy’s skin but there’s no way that I’m leaving. I was promised this job over the holidays and I need it.
Since my parents died a few years back it’s just been me. I had so many bills to pay after they died that even after we sold everything that they left me, there was nothing extra. It was all used to pay off their bills.
The grump growls at me. “My show is not about to be cancelled.”
“You think that but that’s not what Reese said. She said I’m your last chance. So you might as well just get used to me. I’m going to take the best care of you.”
Another growl rumbles out of him and then he sighs. “How old are you?”
“I’m a lot older than you think. I mean, I’m twenty-three. Not nineteen.”
“What’s your name then? At least I’ll know who I’m trying to get rid of!”
“You can call me Merry.”
“I can call you Merry? Please tell me your last name isn’t Christmas.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “Wouldn’t that be funny?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Grinning at him, I reach out and pat his shoulder again. There is something seriously wrong with me. I can’t keep my hands off this guy. “My last name is Bartholomew. Not Christmas.”
He sighs. “Thank god. I do not want to write a check for Christmas.”
“Don’t worry about it. But if you don’t have any decorations I’m going to have to go out and find something. This house is just screaming to be decorated for the holidays.”
“Yap, yap!” A little holy terror in cream and tan darted through my feet and I jumped back with a squeak, windmilling my arms and desperately fighting to get back on my feet.
“Whoa!” Hard arms come around me and I stumble back into a chest that feels like solid steel.
Huffing, I open my eyes and blow my long brown hair out of my face. Only to lose my breath when I see the look of longing on the big man’s face.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my breath stalling. I’ve never seen a more beautiful, lonely look on any human being before. It makes me want to reach out and hug the guy.
If only I didn’t think he’d take off my head.
He set me gently on my feet and growled. “Stop it, Peaches. You crazy dog!”
Now that he says it, I can finally get a good look at the animal. He reaches down and lifts the dog into his arms and the blood rushes to my head. Lord, he’s pretty.
“Peaches? That animal is named Peaches?”
He grins at the dog that reaches out and licks his hewn-from-rock jaw and wriggles wildly. “Sure. Because she’s so sweet.”
My brow lifts. “She doesn’t act sweet.”
He grunts and then grins and it’s like my body’s on fire, lit up from inside. Shivering, I stare at him. That unholy grin is too damn sexy for words.
“Maybe she’s not big on holidays either.”
I reach out a hand and run it along the silky head as she eyes me like she can’t decide whether to chew off my hand or lick me to death.
Instead she just ignores me and turns back to Jasper, smirking.
“I’ve never actually seen a dog smirk before,” I laugh.
“She’s a special dog.”
“I can see that. After all, she’s got her doggy daddy wrapped around her tiny little paw.”
His dark brow lifts and arrogance practically drips off of his pretty face. “I’m no doggy daddy. I have a dog.”
“A dog you could carry in your pocket.”
“Yep. But she’s a dangerous little thing. You better stay on my good side or I’m going to sic her on you.”
Shaking my head, I eye him ruefully. “Yeah. Color me scared to death. Now are you going to let me get a look at your studio?”
He shakes his head. “No. I don’t want any decorating in there. This is my work space and I don’t want it defaced for some silly holiday decor.”
“Fine,” I huff. For such a damn good-looking guy he’s the biggest holiday grump I’ve ever met.
“Can you show me my room? I want to get settled and then I’m gonna go find some stuff to make this place look better.”
“Of course you’re staying here too.” He huffs, his back straightening as he turns and stalks off, his long strides taking him away from me so fast that I have to run to keep up with him.
“Yes, I am. And you’re gonna love having me here. I guarantee it.”
He huffs and then leads me through the dark corridors of the huge house, barely giving me a chance to see the dark, victorian furniture and the closed-off rooms.
Taking a deep breath, I fight the urge to run screaming into the night. I need this job.
I eye the big brute with the surly look in his pale blue eyes. I think he needs me too.
I’m going to give him the best holiday he’s ever had. Before I leave he’s gonna wish he never had to tell me good-bye.
My chest aches and I reach up to rub it lightly, frowning. No way am I gonna miss this place. I’ll be ready to move on when the time comes.
But my eyes drag back to him when he leaves me at the door with a faint nod of his dark, messy head.
And that pain in my chest aches like a mother. Sighing, I turn into the room and groan. Dark and stuffy.
He’s definitely got a theme.