Sweet Nothings

 

Chase opened the passenger door to his black SUV. “Ready to go?”

“Absolutely.” I hopped in, and he closed the door before walking around to the driver’s side.

I had only ridden with Chase a handful of times, but I liked his rugged vehicle; it was older but in good condition. Unlike the rest of the guys on the team, Chase seemed to prefer a relatively modest lifestyle. He shared an apartment with Kyle, and apart from his Gibson Hummingbird guitar (a gift), he didn’t appear to own a lot of things. I knew he was the youngest of the group, but I suspected he would be prudent with his finances no matter what his age.

“Are you sure you don’t mind taking me shopping? I know it’s not your favorite.”

“Shopping may not be my favorite, but hanging out with you is. Besides, I need your help finding the perfect gift for Gran.”

Wow, did he really just say that hanging out with me is his favorite? The comment was casually made, but I was positive I hadn’t imagined it.

“Have you been to Santana Row?”

I was still processing Chase’s “favorite” comment when I finally responded, “Nope.”

Chase’s answering expression contained a hint of suppressed excitement, and it made me wonder if there was something special about Santana Row.

“How was your day?” he asked as he pulled onto the street.

“Pretty good. You?”

“Not too bad, although I’m definitely looking forward to some time off.”

“You and me both; this past week has been crazy.” I exhaled.

“How are you doing since the break-in?” I could hear the concern in his voice. “I wanted to ask at the party, but you know . . .”

“I’m fine, thanks. Honestly, it’s not so much the actual break-in as the intent behind it that concerns me,” I said, thinking back to the phone conversation I’d had with Jackson the day before.

Apparently Jackson got the intruder to admit—I didn’t want to know how—that someone inside Zenith hired him to break in and plant a file on Patrick’s computer. The intruder insisted that the transaction was completed anonymously, so he had no idea who hired him. It was a disturbing thought that someone within the company was trying to set Patrick up; for what, I didn’t know.

“It’s hard to believe that it was an inside job.” Chase’s tone was solemn as he pulled into a parking spot and shut off the engine. Placing his hand on my thigh and squeezing gently, he said, “Try not to worry. Jackson and Patrick will get to the bottom of it.”

“I’m sure you’re right; it just baffles me,” I said, exiting the car.

Fortunately, thoughts of the break-in and the conspiracy surrounding it seemed far away as we entered Santana Row. Evergreen wreaths adorned the lampposts and shop doors, and elaborate scenes of dancing elves and winter wonderlands filled the glass displays, enticing shoppers with the promise of the perfect present. With Christmas days away, the center was crowded; laughter and chatter blended with the cheerful music playing through the outdoor speakers.

After a quick dinner, Chase and I strolled along the sidewalk, window shopping and browsing in a few stores without making any purchases. A kitchen store caught my eye, and I hoped it would have the gadget I wanted to buy for Liam. We opened the door to the inviting mix of freshly mulled apple and cinnamon wafting through the air.

Stainless steel tables were arranged throughout the store, covered with everything from pots and pans to mixing bowls. I was amazed by the number of utensils, pans, appliances, and cookie cutters. There was a small work station in the middle of the store with a pot of simmering liquid—the source of the heavenly aroma—as well as samples on the counter near the register.

“Wow. Maybe I need to come shopping here more often,” Chase said around a mouthful of gingerbread. “This is amazing.”

I laughed. “I think you’re doing more snacking than shopping,” I threw over my shoulder as I walked toward a wall of cookbooks.

“Fine. You shop, I snack. Win-win.” He grinned, clearly pleased by the idea. Peeking his head around a display of olive oils, he said, “You know you don’t have to buy us any gifts, right?”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. You guys have done so much for me, and I’ve never had anyone besides my dad and Jessica to buy gifts for. Honestly, this is kind of fun.”

We visited several more stores, including a surf shop where I hunted down the perfect gift for Jackson. After a little over an hour of shopping, I was relieved to be purchasing the last item on my list. I checked out and Chase immediately swiped my shopping bag, holding the door open for me.

“Thanks. And thanks again for bringing me.”

“No problem. I’m just glad we found a present for Gran. She’s impossible to buy for.”

“From everything you’ve told me, she sounds like a woman of discerning taste.” I smiled.

“That she is,” he agreed. “Which makes my mother’s complete lack of taste all the more perplexing.” His tone wasn’t bitter, more resigned with a twinge of disappointment. Chase had never mentioned his mom before, and I didn’t want to push him on the subject, but I was curious.

“Is Gran your mom’s mom?”

He nodded. “Yeah, although obviously my gran is much more like a mom than my ‘mother,’ if you can even call her that. Gran raised me and Kyle from the time our mother dropped us on her doorstep when I was ten.”

“Does your mom live around here too?”

“No, she lives in Vegas with her latest boyfriend.” He didn’t sound too fond of the boyfriend or his mom, not that I could blame him.

“What about your dad?”

He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. My mother isn’t even sure who he is.”

“Oh,” I said quietly, not sure how to respond. My heart ached at the thought that he had never known his father and his mother had effectively abandoned him. “I’m so sorry, Chase.”

“It’s okay. Really. For all I know, and considering my mother’s taste in men, I’m probably better off without him.”

When we reached the car, Chase put the shopping bags in the trunk, and I walked to the passenger door.

“We have one more stop,” he called as he opened the backseat door of the driver’s side.

“We do? Do you need a gift for Kyle or something?”

Chase grabbed his Anaheim Angels hoodie from the back seat and tossed it to me across the console. He pulled a beanie on and then shut the car door.

“Um, thanks?” I was still waiting for Chase to answer me.

“Come on.” He tugged my arm lightly. “You’ll see soon enough.” What is going on? I wondered, not used to such cryptic behavior from Chase.

He led me to a section of the center we had yet to visit. The walkway narrowed, and he placed his hands on my shoulders, steering me through the other shoppers. When we emerged from between the two buildings, Chase removed his hands, gently brushing the sides of my arms as he did so.

I stared wide-eyed at the scene in front of me. A large outdoor ice skating rink had been constructed for the season and was alive with skaters circling the ice like runners in an endless loop.

“Awesome!”

“Want to skate?” Chase fought off a smile.

“Like you even needed to ask!” I playfully punched him on the side of his arm.

After lacing up our skates, we hit the ice, and I tried to find my balance as the metal blades slipped on the smooth surface. Holding onto the rail, I stared at my feet, inching along while Chase patiently gave me pointers. It was somewhat humiliating to be passed by five-year-olds who zipped around the rink like it was nothing.

When I let go of the railing, Chase skated backwards, facing me as he held his hands out, palms up. I pushed the sleeves of his hoodie up past my wrists and placed my hands in his, trusting him to guide me while we skated under the palm trees decorated with twinkling lights.

“You don’t need to stare at your skates, Haley; they’re not going anywhere without you.”

Finally feeling steady enough, I glanced up at him. Bad idea. He looked adorable, his cheeks rosy and eyes bright, and then he flashed me that irresistible dimple. Ugh, is he trying to make me fall?

Although the first few turns around the rink were tricky, I soon got the hang of it, and Chase moved to my side. We skated side-by-side, talking some, but mostly drinking in the scene. After a while, the crowd thinned out; it was getting late, and most of the kids had been practically forced off the ice by their parents. The rink was closing soon, but we stayed on the ice as long as possible.

When we got back to the loft, Chase parked along the curb and walked me to the door, setting the shopping bags on the front step.

“I had a blast tonight. Thank you.” I leaned forward to hug him, and he immediately reciprocated and held me tight for several long moments. Being wrapped up in his hoodie had been nice, but the hoodie plus Chase was even better.

Chase slowly released me until our faces were mere inches apart. All I could hear was my heart pounding as I stood frozen to the spot, certain that the next second would change everything. Unconsciously, I licked my lips, and his eyes darted to them.

Suddenly, the front door opened and Chase jumped back, almost as if I had scalded him. No!

I saw Knox out of the corner of my eye and instantly looked toward the ground, feeling inexplicably guilty. “Hey, guys,” Knox said. “I was going to grab the mail. Did you have fun?”

Thankfully, Chase responded, although perhaps too quickly. “Oh. Hey, Knox. I was just carrying Haley’s bags to the door and saying goodnight.”

“Mhmm.”

I hear that skeptical note in your voice, Knox. Were you really getting the mail or did you interrupt us on purpose?

 

*  *  *

 

I knocked on Liam’s door, excited about our plans to spend the afternoon making Christmas cookies. It was one of my favorite holiday activities, so earlier in the week, I’d asked Liam if he was interested in joining me. He’d agreed and requested we do the baking at his place since he had the superior supplies, and we’d be heading to Patrick’s afterward anyway.

“Happy Christmas Eve,” Liam said brightly, opening the door with a flourish. “I have cookies in the oven, so make yourself comfortable and meet me in the kitchen.”

Smiling at Liam’s enthusiasm, I removed my coat and boots before following the spicy scent of gingerbread. When I reached the kitchen, it was obvious that Liam was taking his role as cookie-making host seriously; the counters were covered with everything from a collection of cookie cutters to rolling pins, pastry bags already filled with icing in numerous colors, and an array of edible decorations.

Liam pulled a sheet of gingerbread men out of the oven and set it on the counter. “Mmmm, those look delicious,” I said, impressed that they’d turned out so perfectly-shaped.

“I’m sorry I started without you, but we have so much to get done, I hoped you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

After Liam finished transferring the cookies to a cooling rack, he grabbed a red apron from the pantry and placed it over my head. Without giving me a chance to protest, he moved in close and wrapped his arms around my waist, tying the apron behind my back.

Standing back, he looked me up and down. “You make a tempting Mrs. Claus.”

I glanced down and realized that the apron was cut in the style of a sexy Mrs. Claus dress. So Liam.

“And . . . you should wear those skinny jeans more often,” he added with a wink.

Mostly amused by his familiar flirtation, I put my hands on my hips and gave him an exasperated look. “It’s all about appearances with you, isn’t it?”

Expecting a teasing comment in return, I was stunned when his expression turned thoughtful. “Is that what you think?”

Unsure how else to respond, I just nodded.

Liam approached slowly, until he was only inches away, and removed my hands from my hips before grasping them lightly. “Yes, I love your long legs, and I’m still dying to see you in a bikini . . . and a tennis skirt.” I glared for a moment, but staring into his gray eyes swirling with tenderness, I couldn’t resist falling under his spell. “But, I also adore your awful British accent and the fact that you are smart and sweet and sarcastic all at the same time.”

Feeling exposed, I tried to look away, but Liam squeezed my hands, encouraging me to keep my focus on him. “And the way you look down in an attempt to hide your adorable blushes,” he continued with a smile. “But, most of all, I love how much I love spending time with you.”

“Okay?” he whispered.

“Okay,” I breathed in response, struggling not to fixate on how many times he’d uttered the word “love.”

Finally withdrawing his hands, he walked to the kitchen island. “I already baked all of the gingerbread, so we just have to decorate those. But, we still need to roll out and bake the sugar cookies. Ready to get started?”

Scarcely avoiding whiplash from his abrupt change in subject, I responded, “Yep.”

We each grabbed a rolling pin and started cutting shapes out of the dough. After Liam placed his third snowman on the cookie sheet, I giggled softly.

“What?” Liam asked with an inquisitive raise of his eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” I said, barely holding in another laugh. “It’s just the sight of you making gingerbread men and snowmen cookies. I mean, I know you like to bake, but I never imagined you quite like this.”

“I’ll admit that my usual holiday treats are somewhat more sophisticated, but I’m glad you asked me to help. I forgot how much fun cookie cutters are.”

Suddenly feeling mischievous, I dipped my fingers into the bowl of flour and took a few steps toward Liam. “Maybe you need less sophistication and more fun in your kitchen.”

“Is that so? Did you have something specific in mind?” he asked with heated eyes.

I flicked the flour in his face before running around to the other side of the island. Liam stared at me, confounded, his face and dark hair dotted in white, then reached in for a handful of flour. Uh oh. Frozen in place, I watched as he stalked toward me. Surely he wouldn’t chance getting it all over his lush carpet and furnishings. Would he?

Sprinting to the other side of his couch, I gave him a pleading look. “Liam, please don’t. I thought it would be funny, but I don’t want to be responsible for messing up your apartment.”

“Hmmm. So you’re offering a truce, then?” he asked a little too politely.

“Suuure.”

“Excellent,” he said, returning to the kitchen, dumping the flour in the trash and brushing off his hands and face.

That was way too easy, I thought, suddenly wishing I’d let him douse me in flour. Who knew what he’d do to get back at me, and knowing Liam, he’d wait until I least expected it. Apparently my skepticism was well-founded because, seconds later, I realized too late that Liam was charging toward me, a devilish grin on his face.

I took off running, laughing as I tried to thwart his efforts to catch me, giddily afraid to find out what he intended to do. I was fast, but he was more familiar with the layout of his furniture and smooth and quick on his feet. Scarcely able to contain my laughter, we faced off from opposite sides of the sofa, but when I dodged right, I misjudged and ended up nearly falling to the floor. Liam took advantage of my stumble, and by the time I righted myself, he had tackled me onto the couch. He pinned me to the plush fabric, mercilessly tickling my sides as flour dusted over my clothes.

I writhed beneath his grip, laughing and squealing while I tried to retaliate, but it was no use, until I kicked off the back of the couch and we tumbled to the floor. Liam stared up at me, a slightly surprised expression crossing his face before it softened to something more earnest. The change in positions had shifted our dynamics and a stillness settled over us.

Strands of my hair had come loose from my side braid in the fray. Liam slowly reached up to brush one from my face, then looped his hand behind my neck and gently pulled me down toward him. I was so drawn to him in that moment that I felt powerless to stop him.

When my face hovered just above his, he spoke in a low, tortured voice. “Haley, my love.” He nuzzled my nose, and I sensed a tension within him, as if he was holding himself back. He opened his mouth to speak again, but when the timer chimed, he smoothly set me aside and jumped to his feet, startling me with his hasty retreat. My love?

We spent the rest of the afternoon baking then icing and decorating the cookies while I attempted to hide how much the encounters in the kitchen and living room affected me. Liam taught me a few techniques to improve my skills, and the cookies ended up looking almost professionally done. After taking photos of our masterpieces, we loaded up Liam’s car with cookies and gifts and headed to Patrick’s.

Since we were the last to arrive, I was surprised when we opened the front door only to be met with silence. “Where is everyone?” I asked, when we found an empty kitchen and living room.

“My guess would be the pool house,” Liam answered. “You’d think it’s the nicest room in the house by the way they all flock to it.”

When we reached the pool house, Liam opened the door to immediate shouts of, “no” and “don’t let Haley in.” Taken aback, I retreated a few steps and Liam shook his head. “How much you want to bet those procrastinators are just getting around to wrapping your gifts?” he asked with a rueful smile.

Theo popped out of the door, closing it behind him. “Sorry about that, buttercup. We need another minute to finish wrapping, but we will take those cookies,” he said, seizing the tray from my hands and disappearing back in the pool house.

Liam lifted an eyebrow as if to say, “See.”

When we were invited in a few minutes later, Jackson and Knox were hovering over the wet bar surrounded by shopping bags, boxes, and gift wrap supplies while Theo and Chase munched on cookies.

“Where’s Ethan?” I asked, surprised by his absence.

“He’s spending Christmas Eve with his aunt and her fiancé. He’ll be here for breakfast tomorrow,” Theo said. He walked closer and I felt like he was scrutinizing my appearance. “Why is your hair white? Is that flour?”

I smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

Liam wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “All good baking is a little messy. Isn’t that right, Haley?”

I nodded, hoping my face wasn’t turning red at the thought of our earlier “mess.”

Chase swallowed and then smiled my way. “These cookies are awesome.”

“Thanks, but that’s due more to Liam than me,” I protested. “Do you guys always wait until the last minute to wrap presents?”

“Yes,” Theo and Liam responded at the same time, apparently the only two who planned ahead.

“Not just the wrapping, but the shopping too,” Theo added.

Walking farther into the room, I noticed that Knox and Jackson appeared to be struggling with their task. Is Knox trying to tie a bow? There was just something wrong—and ridiculously cute—about the scene. “Can I help?”

“Please,” Knox grunted, while Jackson pressed his hands together in a silent plea as he stepped aside. It wasn’t the most charitable thought, but I couldn’t help but be pleased that they needed my assistance. All of the guys were so capable that I rarely felt like I had unique talents to add to the group. Not that tying bows was a talent exactly, but I’d take it.

“Where’s Patrick?” Liam asked.

Jackson collapsed on the sofa and said, “He’s making a last minute trip to the grocery store. We can’t have Christmas Eve without chips and queso, and he forgot the cheddar.”

“Is that a tradition? Queso on Christmas Eve?” I asked, curious about what the guys usually did for the holiday.

“Yeah, instead of a large dinner, we always do finger foods. I requested queso many years ago, and it’s become a standard ever since. Now everyone picks a favorite, so we end up with a random assortment of foods.”

“Fun.”

“Don’t worry, Haley,” Theo interjected. “I made sure to add one of your favorites to the menu,” he said mysteriously.

There was a knock and Patrick leaned around the door. “Ready for dinner and movies?”

“And crackers!” Liam threw out.

I shot him a questioning glance, and Theo whispered in my ear, “It’s a British thing.”