Page 22 of Christmas in Quincy (The Edens 0.50)

Why don’t you?

Austin’s frame stiffened. “Who are Mateo and Knox?”

On cue, the door that led from the kitchen to the dining room opened and Knox came through with an empty tray. “Blueberry muffins are gone. So is the first batch of cinnamon rolls.”

“Who the hell are you?” Austin snapped.

“You’re in my kitchen.” Knox took the tray to the dishwasher, dropping it into the sink and not missing a beat. Then he turned and leaned against the ed

ge, crossing his arms over his chest. “Who are you?”

The men went into a stare down and before punches could be thrown, or muffins, I jumped in to give introductions.

“Knox Eden, meet Austin Myles, chief pain in my ass and general hater of baked goods.”

Chapter 5

Austin

“Mind if we have a minute?” I asked Knox, doing my best to ignore the way his eyes lingered too long on Cleo’s figure.

It was a gorgeous figure, curvy and fit, toned and lush—I couldn’t fault the guy for good taste. But I still wanted to shove my fist into his nose. Kicking this guy’s ass would only add another delay to our departure time—that was, if we could even get a flight out. We’d missed one already.

Knox nodded. “No problem.”

My hands fisted at my sides and I sucked in a calming breath as he strode from the room, his smile fixed on Cleo. I was too damn tired for this. All I wanted was to get on an airplane and nap until I was in California.

Last night had been miserable. When Cleo had come out of the bathroom, fresh-faced and smelling like honey, I’d known that sleeping beside her hadn’t been an option. So I’d left to check out the hotel.

It wasn’t a big building, nothing like the swank resorts I’d seen while traveling a few times with Ray. My whole inspection had taken less than an hour.

I’d done it twice.

Then I’d stepped outside, thinking I’d look around town a bit, but when the freezing cold had bitten into my skin, I’d retreated inside. I’d spent hours in the lobby, sitting in front of the fire, staring at the flames, hoping that if I waited long enough, Cleo would be asleep. When my eyelids had been too heavy to fight, I’d called it quits and returned to the room.

Cleo had been facedown in a pillow, those perfect pink lips parted enough to let a slight snore slip free. She’d barely blinked as I’d come in and made myself uncomfortable on the floor. At least the hotel had a plush carpet instead of the industrial carpets in most places.

I’d fallen asleep to Cleo’s snores. I’d woken up to a kick in the gut.

I hadn’t meant to fall asleep after she’d tripped over me. I’d planned to let her go search out coffee, thinking she’d bring some back for the both of us. Hours later, when I’d realized how much time had passed with me sleeping on her pillow, I’d flown into a panic.

This was why it wasn’t safe for me to watch her. I let my guard down whenever I found her with flour in her chocolate hair, like there was now. She always seemed to leave a streak beside her left ear.

“I’m sorry about this morning,” she said. “If it makes you feel better, Knox wasn’t too happy to find me here either.”

I grunted.

Unhappy? Yeah, right. That guy had been drooling over her and they sure seemed like fast friends. And she was into chefs.

Cleo had dated one last year, a guy who worked at a restaurant a few blocks down from Crumbs. Their relationship had been brief but painful. Every day, I’d get a report from whoever was assigned her detail on exactly what she and Chef John had done. Dinner. Movie. Make-out session in his car.

Those had been an agonizing three weeks and six days.

Cleo gave me a small smile. “Merry Christmas Eve.”

“Merry Christmas Eve.”

“Are you sure you’re not hungry?”