Simply Sexy. Carly Phillips
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thought of Colin, she could have purred out loud.
“Dave’s special is chocolate malted cappuccino,” he said with a ridiculous abundance of pride.
“Which means you’re Dave.” Rina forced a welcoming, wide smile for a man who did nothing for her. “Make mine with extra chocolate and you’ve got yourself a deal.”
Five minutes later, she walked back onto the snow-covered street with an extra-large chocolate malted cappuccino for the price of a regular-size latte in one hand, a black coffee in the other and a date request for Saturday night. Thank God she’d had Emma’s Christmas party as an excuse to decline.
Score one for men being visual animals, Rina thought. Dave had reacted to her looks, or maybe it was the hair. He’d hit on her today when he hadn’t given her a second glance yesterday. In this case, chemistry didn’t matter as much as superficial impressions. If she had a free hand, she’d jot notes on the pad she kept in her purse. She decided she’d handle it upstairs. Rina had no doubt she wouldn’t forget details about this particular outing.
She turned and headed inside her office building. Rina knew most employees’ schedules as well as she knew her own. Colin tended to arrive early in time to get Marty’s freshly made coffee before it’d had a chance to gel and petrify. She strode through the office, a room comprising desks, computers and an occasional portable divider for the more senior editors. And she immediately noticed that Colin was already in his chair, but he didn’t have a mug in front of him. Yet.
Instead, he sat flipping through mail and muttering to himself. Even aggravated, the man was so darn sexy. It wasn’t just the black leather jacket that hung on his chair, though it added to his rugged appeal. And it wasn’t his windblown hair or the intelligence lurking in his blue eyes. His allure came from somewhere deeper, somewhere inside him. Intensity defined Colin Lyons and every move he made.
She paused a moment, gathering her courage, and when she bit down on her lip, she tasted lipstick, a reminder of today’s changes. Like Dave, she expected Colin to notice and react. Her heart rate picked up rhythm at the prospect. Taking the coffee she’d purchased, she strode to his desk, coming up beside him.
He leaned back and glanced toward the corner, oblivious to her presence. “How is it I barely recognize this place?” he asked himself.
His dark tone didn’t bode well for her plan to dazzle him. Taken with the depth of his feelings, she felt an unexpected tug at her heart. She glanced around, wanting to view things from his perspective and see just what was upsetting him. Mistletoe still hung from the ceiling and a gorgeous tree stood in the corner adorned with gold and silver tinsel and exquisite decorations.
Yet despite the holiday cheer, he’d sounded distressed.
“That sounded depressing. Do you have something against Christmas?” she asked.
“Against the holiday? No. Against the tree? Hell, yes.” He didn’t turn to face her.
As someone who’d grown up with handmade ornaments, then progressed to the expensive, exclusive store-bought kind when she married, Rina recognized Corinne’s tree as the latter version. That obviously bothered Colin, though Rina couldn’t imagine why.
Despite all the reasons not to get emotionally involved, she wanted to know what he was feeling and why he was feeling it. “What do you have against some poor defenseless tree?”
“That corner is usually reserved for Joe’s hand-cut pine.” Colin’s voice held a hint of gruffness combined with tender emotion.
And this poor tree had obviously replaced Joe’s. “I’m sure Corinne meant well. Maybe she thought some tree was better than no tree,” Rina offered, trying to soothe the sting he suffered.
“Corinne didn’t mean anything except satisfying her own personal need to spend.”
It was the first time she’d heard him attack Corinne, and the shock rattled her. Though she didn’t know the other woman well, Rina had always been a decent judge of character, and Corinne seemed to genuinely care about people in general, her employees and especially her sick husband.
He shook his head. “Never mind. I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”
“Maybe not, but something’s bothering you. Whatever it is, you need to get it out.”
“And you want to hear?” He sounded surprised.
Was it so shocking that she wanted to help him? They were strangers, but the holidays often brought unexpected people together, and the mistletoe had begun their journey.
She nodded, then realizing he couldn’t see her, she answered with a soft “Yes. I’d very much like to hear.”
He leaned back in his seat. Silence reigned. Maybe he was considering whether he wanted to share.
“We had a yearly tradition, Joe and I,” he said at last.
Rina released the breath she hadn’t been aware of holding.
“It started the year Joe and his first wife, Nell, took me in after my parents died in a car accident. I was twelve at the time.”
Having grown up with both parents and having lived a decent family life, her heart squeezed tight at the admission that he’d lost his parents young. Family was important to Rina and she found herself glad that Colin had had Joe and Nell to compensate for his loss. “I didn’t know.”
“No reason you should. Joe and Nell ended up adopting me. And since it’s part of Joe’s earlier life, it’s probably not something Corinne likes to discuss.”
Rina doubted that, but Colin obviously had issues with his adoptive father’s young wife. It was the story of many families, so she chose to listen rather than defend Corinne now. “I’m glad you had people to turn to,” she said lightly.
“Me, too.” His harsh profile eased, along with something inside Rina. Something warm, compelling and far more dangerous than pure sexual desire. Which didn’t bode well for an emotionless fling. “Want to tell me about this tradition you two shared?” she asked despite her better judgment.
Standing, he walked to the big window overlooking a neighborhood park. She left the now-cold coffee on the desk corner and followed. In silence, she glanced out over his shoulder. Snow covered the ground and trees in true holiday tradition. There’d be a white Christmas this year, Rina thought.
“Joe’s as close to a father as I’ve got.” Colin’s voice intruded on her thoughts. “And every year since he took me in, we’d go stalking through the woods in search of the perfect tree.”
“You didn’t shop for one?” she asked. “Because where I grew up, we chose the cheapest tree off the neighborhood supermarket parking lot.”
His deep chuckle warmed her. “No, we played mountain man. We’d go to the far end of Joe’s property, which included forest, and we’d pick and cut our own tree.” He shoved his hands into his back pockets, staring, she assumed, at the pines behind the building. “We never missed a year, either.”
“Until this one,” she guessed.
She heard his unspoken words and felt the empty space in his heart as if it were her own. At heart, he was still the little boy who’d lost his parents and only had Joe to turn to.
Unable to stop herself, she lifted her hand, letting her palm rest on his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. Heat sizzled on contact, traveling faster than an electric current through her veins, creating a heaviness in her breasts and a slow simmer low in her belly. She should have been prepared.
Instead, she struggled for an even breath. “Corinne says Joe’s prognosis is good,” she said, fighting even harder to concentrate on simple conversation.
He touched her hand briefly, acknowledging her compassion. “Joe’s prognosis is good. But it’s hard having him out of commission. A lot of things are tough these days.”
His