Page 67 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
Her fists clenching at her sides, ready to pounce with revenge.
I’m under her skin. There’s fear there…and that’s exactly what I want to see.
I’m not normally this arrogant or rude. Grumpy? Yes. Provoking? Not really. My interactions with women are generally limited to the realm of the very tame. I go out and find the occasional hookup because I have “needs,” but no one’s ever really excited me like Storee Taylor. Not that I want to hook up with her…of course I don’t.But this is fun. And I haven’t enjoyed myself like this for many years.
“I’m invoking the not-talking rule,” she says, holding up her hand to me. “You invoked it in the Kringle Krampus, and I’m invoking it now.”
“Oof.” I wince. “Sorry, but that’s not how it works.”
“What do you mean that’s not how it works? It’s a tit for tat kind of thing.”
I shake my head. “Unfortunately, it’s not.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.” I rock on my heels, lips sealed together in an apologetic grimace.
“Who made you the authority?”
“Well, since you’re in my town and I’m the one who has lived here longer, that gives me all the authority.”
“Uh, but you’re forgetting one thing,” she says, looking like she’s about to stun me with a comeback. “I belong to Aunt Cindy, so her years transfer over to me.”
“Yeah, that’s not how that works either,” I say, ignoring the empty feeling in my stomach as I consider the years my parents missed out on. It frustrates me, how many more thoughts of my parents I have during this time of year. Not wanting her to see the change in my expression, I move past her toward the hardware store.
Paula is standing at the register when I walk in. She lifts a hand and grins. “Cole, heard about your pelvic thrusting last night. I didn’t believe it until Martha showed me a video on her phone.”
The door rings behind me, announcing Storee’s arrival as well.
“Rude,” she mutters. “You didn’t have to shut the door on me.”
Didn’t realize I had, but that’s a positive.
“I didn’t know you had those kinds of moves,” Paula says to me.
I smile at her. “Only pull them out for special occasions.”
“Yes, well, Peach was saying at the breakfast table how you served last night, and Martha’s sent the video to almost the entire town.”
Great.
Just what I need. The entire town watching that display over and over.
Sure, I was proud of Max and myself, but I know a few months from now when the adrenaline has calmed down, I’m going to regret ever painting my body green and smoothing my hands over my ass, showing the town my Grinch-like figure.
“The more I can help people celebrate the Christmas season, the better,” I say, and I suddenly remember my sash.Fuck. I pull it out of my back pocket and drape it over my chest. “Speaking of which, didn’t want to get this wet when I was fixing Martha and Mae’s kitchen sink.”
“Leaking again?” Paula asks as Storee moves past me, acting like she’s interested in some dowels. I know she’s eavesdropping. She’s not sneaky in the slightest—probably the worst sleuth I’ve ever seen.
“Yup. I told them after this round of adjustments, they might have to call a real plumber because I don’t think I’m actually doing anything to fix it.”
Paula chuckles. “Did they ask you to come over in your lederhosen?”
I chuckle as well. “As a matter of fact…they did.”
Paula shakes her head. “You know they made it leak on purpose.”
I wink at Paula. “Hence why I plan on telling them to call a real plumber.”
