I take a step toward Jade and notice she takes a step back. Her eyes are fixed on my pecs, and I glance down to make sure I’m not sporting a hideous chest zit or something.

No zit.

Which means Jade—the ice queen who hasn’t given me the time of day since I set foot on this farm—is checking me out.

Before I get too smug about that, I remind myself that the sight of her in a fitted blue T-shirt with a winged W on the chest has just confirmed what I’ve suspected from day one. Jade King has a killer body. Lush curves and narrow waist and the sort of well-muscled arms I can’t stop picturing wrapped around my back.

I swallow hard, trying to get my bearings. I came out here for some reason, but damned if I can remember now what it was.

“Why are you holding that like it’s a dead animal?” she asks.

I look down at my hand, relieved to see I am not, in fact, holding a dead animal. I think. I have no idea what the hell it is, so I heft up the weird-looking padded thing with strings on it.

“Is this some sort of chest protection like a catcher would wear? Or a butt pad for Santas who have to sit all day?”

Jade laughs, and it’s the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard. She steps closer, and for a second, I think she’s going to touch my chest. I hold my breath, aching for that moment her hand brushes my bare skin.

But no, she reaches for the padded thing instead. “This is your belly,” she says.

“My what?”

“Your belly,” she repeats. “Like a bowl full of jelly?”

She nods like she’s explaining something to an exceptionally dense toddler, and I get lost in those blue eyes again. What was she saying?

“Jelly,” I repeat.

“Of course. Santa’s supposed to be a little squishy in the middle, but uh—obviously you’re not, so—”

“Fake belly.”

“Right.” Her gaze skims quickly over my abs, and I resist the urge to flex. I want her to look. I want her to touch, truth be told. I want the excuse to take her in my arms and—

“Take off your jacket,” she commands.

“What?”

“Your Santa jacket,” she says. “You need to take it off.”

I don’t ask questions, willing to shed any article of clothing she asks me to. I hang the Santa coat on a nail sticking out of the post beside me as Jade fiddles with the buckles on the belly pad.

“Do I need to take off my pants?” I ask.

“What? No! No pants. Please, keep your pants on!”

I try not to take offense at the horrified look on her face, or the fact that she just took another step away from me. Maybe she needed more room to tinker with the strings on the belly device. Her fingers work the straps with impressive deftness, and I admire the curve of her neck as she bends over her work. What would it be like to kiss her there? To skim a fingertip from the soft place behind her ear all the way down to her collarbone. To brush my lips along her hairline. Would she shiver at my touch, or slap my hand away?

“Here,” she says, hoisting up the belly device. “It loops around your neck and then ties in back. Try this.”

I duck into the neck loop, conscious of her breasts grazing my ribs through her fitted tee. Her hair tickles my shoulder, and I breathe in the fragrant scent of hay and juniper berries and something sweet. Honey, I think, or gingerbread. Or maybe that’s just Jade.

She steps back, and I open my eyes, surprised to discover I’ve closed them in the first place.

“Hang on, let me help with the ties.”

“Thanks,” I manage to croak as she wraps her arms around my waist. I lift my arms up, not sure if it’s more to get them out of her way or to keep myself from touching her.

Her whole body presses close to mine as she cinches the laces around my torso. “God, it’s like a corset or something,” she mutters as her fingers flutter against my lower back.

“Not a very convenient design,” I manage to reply, a little lightheaded from her closeness. “How’s Santa supposed to get dressed by himself? Or undressed, for that matter?”

“Maybe they figure you’ll have a whole team of elves helping you,” she says. “Hang on, let me try it from the other side.”

She moves behind me, and the tip of her ponytail grazes my ribs. I suck in a breath, not sure why I’m ticklish when I never have been before. It must be her, then, Jade with her sweet-smelling hair and graceful hands and mouthwatering curves and—

“That’s quite the tattoo,” she says.

Her hand grazes my compass, and I hold my breath wanting her to trace every line with her fingers. It’s a big tattoo.

“I got it in Baghdad,” I say. “It’s pointing the direction home.”

“Did it hurt?”

“Not as much as the shrapnel it’s covering.”

“Oh,” she says softly. “Sorry. And, um—thank you for your service.”

I nod, not sure why I’m feeling so undone. It’s not like I’ve never had a beautiful woman look at me before. It’s not like I’ve never had female hands raking my torso, so why the hell do Jade’s make me so jumpy?

Because she’s different.

I swallow hard, praying she’ll get a knot in the laces. That she’ll have some reason to stay back there forever, butterfly fingertips brushing my back as her breath fans my shoulder blades.

“There,” she announces as she moves away. “How does that feel?”

I turn to face her, socked full-force in the gut by those lake-blue eyes. God. I need to stop this. I look down at the fake belly, hoping my desire will be dampened by the fact that I look utterly ridiculous.

“It’s a little weird,” I admit. “I guess it matters more how it feels, right?”

“To you or to someone sitting on your lap?”

My libido flares again, and I order myself not to picture Jade perched on my thighs, her perfect, round bottom cupped in my lap.

Way to go, asshole. Now you’ve got a tent pole in your Santa pants.

I pray the fake belly hides it as I return my gaze to Jade’s. “I wonder if it would feel real to someone touching it,” I say.

She seems to hesitate for a second. Then she reaches a hand out and presses her palm into the middle of my gut. I flex my abs instinctively, which is ridiculous considering there’s five inches of padding over them. Her hand sinks into the foam, and she holds my gaze with amusement in her eyes.

“Very nice,” she says. “Soft. Everyone’s going to want to hug you.”

She’s the only one I want hugging me right now. It’s all I can think about, the way she’d feel pressed against me, her hair tickling my nose and her breasts soft against my ribs.

I shove my hands in my back pockets to keep from reaching for her, discovering too late that Santa pants don’t have back pockets. My hands skid unhindered down the slippery velvet.

Jade giggles. “Did you just pet your ass?”

I give her a sheepish smile. “Just checking the fit.”

She peers at my ass, and I could swear I see hunger in her eyes. There’s definite heat when she lifts her gaze to mine again.

“They look great,” she says. “Good thing Amber picked the shorter coat.”

I remember the conversation I overheard that first day in the paddock. The Studmuffin Santa crack. I suppose I should take offense at being discussed like a piece of meat, but I actually like it. Coming from Jade, anyway. It tells me I’m not the only one distracted by the view here.

“Amber picked the jacket?”

Jade nods, and it’s her turn to look sheepish. “She wanted to make sure your ass was properly showcased.” She lifts one shoulder in a sort of apology. “Sorry about what I said in the paddock,” she says. “That first day you showed up? It was unprofessional, and I apologize.”

Considering I’ve had about a hundred unprofessional thoughts about Jade since I got here, there’s no way I’m holding that against her. “It’s flattering,” I tell her honestly. “Besides, I obviously wasn’t hired for my Christmas spirit.”

The words come out sounding more bitter than I mean them to, and Jade gives me a curious look. “Why do you say that? You seem perfectly jolly to me.” She shrugs. “But I guess I don’t know you that well.”

This is my out. My opportunity to fake some holiday cheer and put on a happy face. My chance to make some cocky sex joke or do something else to get Jade laughing.

But that’s not what comes out of my mouth. “I’m not a huge fan of Christmas. Don’t worry, I can fake it for the families.”

Jade looks at me like I’ve just admitted I kick puppies for fun, and I wish like hell I hadn’t opened my big mouth. “Really?” she asks. “What’s not to love about Christmas?”

I should stop talking now, or make up some bullshit about an aversion to pumpkin pie and tinsel.

“My mom walked out a few weeks before Christmas.” I hear the words coming out of my mouth, and I’m pretty sure it’s the first time I’ve said them out loud. “Told my dad she was sick of all the fake holiday bullshit and the forced cheer and the ho-ho-ho. Just walked out the door and didn’t come back.”

“Oh my God.”

I nod and keep going, spurred by the softness in Jade’s eyes. “My dad tried to hold it together, but he started drinking like a fish, which didn’t help all his existing health problems, so he had a stroke a month later. He’s—uh—not been himself ever since.”

“Oh, no.” Jade lifts a hand to her mouth, her blue eyes wide. “I had no idea. When was this?”

“Senior year.” I shrug and scrub a hand over my chin, raking my knuckles across the sandpaper stubble. “I was old enough to get my own meals and drive myself around and stuff, but I wasn’t eighteen yet. Children’s Services started sniffing around, so my uncle flew out here. The billionaire with the vanity ranch? He took me in until I finished the school year, and I left town the day after graduation.”

She stares at me with sadness in her eyes. Not pity—there’s a distinction. It’s an empathy that makes me long for one of those hugs she mentioned. My whole body aches for the weight of her arms around me.

“Brandon, I’m so sorry.” She shakes her head. “You always seemed like you had such a charmed life. The perfect athlete, the perfect grades, the perfect face, the perfect body—”

She stops herself there, cheeks reddening as she drops her eyes. But those eyes have a mind of their own, and as they move across my chest, her face gets redder. She lifts her gaze to mine again. “Why would you take a job as Santa then?”

It’s a damn good question. One I shouldn’t answer truthfully if we don’t want Jade freaking out about her sister hiring someone to watch over the place. “I had this platoon leader who used to hammer us all the time about facing our weaknesses,” I say slowly. “I guess that’s it.”

Part of it, anyway.

She nods and touches a hand to her throat. “I get that,” she says. “That’s actually pretty admirable.”

She’s standing so close I could reach out and stroke her hair if I wanted. I do want, but I know that would be creepy. She’s the one who mentioned hugging earlier. Would that be crossing a line?

“Jade?”

She looks at me, a noticeable heat still in her eyes. “Yeah?”

“Can I get that hug now?”

She hesitates, and I wonder if I’m taking this too far. If I’m forcing myself on her or pushing for unwelcome contact. I open my mouth to tell her to forget it, but before I can get the words out, Jade steps forward and wraps her arms around my neck.

My neck, not my middle. Not the hug you’d give to an elderly relative, but the other kind. The kind that leaves her face tilted upward, her mouth scant inches from mine.

I slide my arms around her, the damn Santa belly wedging itself between us like a jealous pet. I can’t feel all of her, but I can feel enough. Her hair ruffles my nose, and her skin smells like fresh gingerbread. I graze the side of her head with my chin like an affection-starved cat.

Jade gives a soft little sigh and meets my eyes. Our gazes lock, and I know I’m going to kiss her. I know she knows, too, and I hold my breath for as long as I can, giving her the chance to pull away.

She doesn’t recoil, and I’m drawn to her like a magnet. My lips find hers, and it’s like a bomb going off in my brain. There’s a gentle buzz in the back of my head, a sweetness at the tip of my tongue as Jade parts her lips and moves against me.

I deepen the kiss, tunneling my fingers into her hair. I can’t get enough of all that silky weight in my hands, so I tug out the rubber band to let those honey waves trickle through my fingers.

She moans and presses tighter against me, fingers raking down my back. I cup her shoulder blades in my palms, curving over those delicate wings before sliding up to brush the sides of her face. I kiss her deeper, thumbs skimming the hollows under her cheekbones as my tongue sweeps over her—

“Hey, Jade, did you put the oats in the—oh, hey. Wow.”

We jump apart like we’ve been electrocuted, both of us breathing hard as we turn to face Jade’s sister.

“Amber, hey.” Jade grabs for the end of her ponytail, surprised to find her hair loose around her shoulders.

I clear my throat and slip her the rubber band, not sure whether to play it cool or shut the hell up and let her do the talking.

Jade folds her fingers around the band and keeps her eyes on her sister. “Um, I was just—uh, helping Brandon with his suit.”

“Some of the knots were stuck,” I add helpfully, glancing at Jade to see her face is bright pink.

Amber smirks and folds her arms over her chest. “I see,” she says. “So you decided to untie them with your tongue?”

I didn’t think it was possible for Jade to turn any redder, but her face now matches the bright crimson Christmas sweater Amber is wearing, minus the stitched holly leaves at the center of her chest.

Jade opens her mouth to say something, but Amber waves her off. “No, I get it. Those prosthetic Santa bellies are super sexy. I can see why you’d be overcome with lust.”

“Look, Amber,” Jade says, wiping her palms down the legs of her jeans like she’s trying to scrape away evidence of our contact. “It’s no big deal. Just—uh—welcoming Brandon to the team, that’s all.”

Amber grins wider, and she glances from her sister to me and back again. “In that case, remind me to have the camera rolling when you welcome all the elves.”

I take a step forward, wanting to run interference if Jade needs me to. But she gives me a small head shake and stares down her sister.

“Was there something you needed?” Jade asks.

“Oh, right—any idea why the south gate is wide open?”

“Seriously?”

“Yep,” Amber says. “And Tammy wasn’t even in that pen, so we can’t blame her this time.”

Jade shakes her head, looking incredulous. “That new latch is totally reindeer proof,” she says. “There’s no way one of them did it.”

There’s unease in both sisters’ eyes, and a niggle of worry makes its way from them to me. I remember what Amber told me about odd things happening at the ranch, and I wonder if I can ask questions without rattling any alarm bells for Jade. “Are they okay?” I ask. “The reindeer, I mean. Did they escape?”

Amber shakes her head. “Reindeer have land fidelity,” she says. “They might wander a little, but they don’t like straying far from home.”

“But most people don’t know that,” Jade says, exchanging a look with her sister. “Someone who wanted to set them loose might try something like that, thinking they’d all take off.”

Amber frowns. “You don’t think someone would—”

“I don’t know,” Jade says. “Remember that nasty email we got from the animal rights group?”

“But that’s dumb,” Amber says. “Letting reindeer roam free just turns them into cougar dinner or bobcat breakfast or—”

“Or roadkill,” Jade adds. “You’re preaching to the choir.”

“So what should we do?”

Jade frowns. “Keep a closer eye on things, I guess.”

Amber’s not meeting my eyes, and I suspect I should make my exit before she gives something away. “I should, uh—probably try on the rest of the suit.”

Both women glance at me, but neither says anything. I grab the Santa coat off the nail and hustle back into the office, wishing like hell I could hit rewind. I want to go back five minutes to feel Jade in my arms again, to kiss her harder and deeper, maybe in the privacy of the office this time.

I slip inside and close the door behind me, conscious of the hushed voices in the barn. I know I should mind my own business, but I find myself pressing an ear against the door, straining to hear their words.

“I knew it!” Amber hisses. “You always had the hots for him.”

“I did not!” Jade snaps, and I go from feeling stunned to disappointed in a span of three seconds.

“You did, too,” Amber argues. “That’s why you didn’t want him working here. And you totally kissed him!”

“Look, it was just a one-time thing, okay?” Jade’s voice is a whisper, but it slices right through me. “I don’t know what happened, but it’s not going to happen again.”

I peel my ear off the door, heart thudding in my ears.

She’s right, of course. The last thing either of us needs is a messy workplace fling. Especially when Jade’s in the dark about my reason for being here. That complicates things, and it can’t happen again.

But that doesn’t stop me from wanting it to.