Page 17 of Christmas in Quincy (The Edens 0.50)

If he knew, then why was he so angry? Why did I irritate him so much?

“Why do you hate me?” I whispered, instantly regretting the words and the two bottles of champagne that had given me the courage to blurt them. Partially drunk was out the window. Clearly, I was fucking wasted. But I didn’t take back my question. I stared up at him, hoping he’d answer.

“It’s easier.”

Easier?

Austin’s gaze drifted to my lips. He stared at them like . . . wait, did he want to kiss me? Because I would be totally okay with that. But why would he want to kiss me? Austin didn’t like me that way. Or any way.

I opened my mouth to ask what he was talking about, but in a flash, he was gone.

He pulled his boots on faster than any man in the history of boot-wearing men and picked up his phone and wallet. Those were shoved in his pockets as he strode around the bed and toward the door.

I propped up on an elbow, my eyes tracking his every step. “Where are you going?”

He hesitated at the door, glancing over his shoulder. “I’m going to go scope out the place.”

“Scope it out?” A laugh escaped. “We’re in Montana.”

His expression hardened.

This look, I knew well.

It was the one he gave me whenever I offered him something from the bakery. It was the one he favored whenever I protested a security measure. It was the look he gave me whenever I smiled his way.

“Yes, Cleo, we’re in Montana,” he clipped. “And whose fault is that?”

Before I could respond, he was out the door. And for the first time all night, I just wanted to go home.

Chapter 4

Cleo

Someone was pounding a drum in the room next door. A really loud, extremely painful drum.

No. Wait. That was just my pulse.

“Fuck you, champagne,” I groaned, squeezing my eyes shut and hoping this headache would disappear.

I limited myself to one bottle. Always. One bottle and then I switched to water. I’d had that rule since my best friend from college had gotten married and I’d chugged champagne at the reception like it was the maid of honor’s duty to test that all bottles were carbonated.

The one-bottle rule hadn’t even crossed my mind last night, thanks to Austin, but if I survived today, I’d never forget again.

I kicked at the covers, trying desperately to unwrap the sheets twined around my legs. When they finally touched air, I swung them over the edge of the bed and—

So that was why my feet were so hot. I’d slept with my slippers on.

My stomach pitched as I sat up, my eyes still closed. I sucked in a deep breath and forced myself to my shaking legs.

Okay. Not bad. I was dizzy but didn’t have the urge to vomit. If I could beat this headache, I just might survive.

I took one step and didn’t wobble. Win. Except on step number two, everything fell to pieces. The world spun, flipping upside down as my foot caught on something on the floor.

A very large, very angry man sleeping on the floor.

This is going to hurt. I braced, ready for impact, but I didn’t collide with the carpet. No, I hit a wall of muscle. A wall that belonged to a very large, very angry man who’d been sleeping on the floor.

“What the fuck?” Austin caught me against his chest, wrapping his arms around me to slow my fall.