Unwrapping The Holidays. Sheryl Lister
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he looked good. But then Cole Nichols had always looked good. He’d been a football god, the kind of guy that even smart, ambitious girls noticed. Problem was he was also brilliant. His skills were phenomenal enough to have been in competition with her for every single academic award or acknowledgment in high school.
He had played football with her brother, Matt, and like the other guys on the team had spent a good deal of time at her house because her mother was team Mom, but it wasn’t like he and she were besties. He was always there, either he nipping at her heels or she chasing him. Until their paths connected and crossed at that end-of-semester party.
You will not think about that party. No. That was ancient history. What she did allow herself to remember about Cole was he was good-looking, rich and, oh yeah, an asshole.
But that was a long time ago. He might have changed.
Jamie took a step forward, but instead of marble-tiled floor, her foot caught nothing but air. In the seconds between being on her feet and falling backward, so many thoughts ran through her head. Thoughts like: This would only happen to you. And: Maybe you’ll get lucky and the floor will swallow you. And finally: Of course the next time you see him and you’re flat on your behind.
Though a final look at his face before her rear made contact with the marble told her all she needed to know. From the look on his face, nothing had changed.
She used several inventive curses to illustrate just how she felt, and he whistled low. “Looks like Jamison Reed finally grew up. Who taught you to swear, Jamison?”
Okay, in her case, she was going to look him in the pecs, then work her way up to his eyes. Yeah, hell of a plan. “It’s Jamie. And in case you were wondering, I’m fine.”
His lips quirked into a wry smile. “I see some things never change.”
No. Apparently they didn’t. Because he looked just as mouthwatering as he had the last time she’d seen him, seven years ago.
He’d cut his hair though, a style that was shorter on the sides and a bit longer on top, sort of a messy mohawk. It was stylish, just like his peacoat and Cole Haan boots. She recognized the boots because her brother had the same pair. Just her luck. Cole Nichols was still more gorgeous than the devil himself...and he was speaking to her...after seven years.
Jamie blinked hard to clear her head and not think of the last time she’d spoken to him.
“Sorry. Are you okay?” His voice was soft, gentle...almost.
Besides her bruised behind? She was not going to tell him about the state of her butt. “I’m fine. Or I will be when your employee over here realizes that until he finds me a room, I’ll be bunking with him.”
Cole chuckled low as he helped her up. “That won’t be necessary. Since you’re in the predicament because the property screwed up, you can stay in the owners’ suite...with me.”
Her eyes went wide. She might not have heard that correctly. Stay with him? Like, as in, with him, Cole Nichols? She shook her head “I—I—I can’t do that.” Especially not given she remembered every single detail of the last time they’d spoken.
He narrowed his eyes and Jamie got the impression that no one ever told him no. But when he spoke, his voice was calm, restrained. “Well, for starters, you won’t find another hotel with vacancies this close to Christmas. And second, the main suite is nearly a thousand square feet. I don’t need that much space.”
“B-but we...you...I—” She was a smart woman who knew words. Lots of words. Just not ones she could think of right now. “I have work to do and intrusions will be distracting and...” Her voice trailed.
His lips twisted into a wry smile. “I see the cat’s got your tongue. But call it the holiday spirit or whatever.” He shrugged then bent down to help her retrieve the contents that had spilled from her purse. As he shoved her phone and her inhaler back into her purse and handed it back to her, he asked, “Have you got any other options?”
Her inner adult scowled at the inner giddy teenager who was excited about this development. She was annoyed. But she could do this. Especially as she had no other choice. Jamie sighed. “Fine. Merry Christmas, roomie.”
You are an idiot.
The last thing on earth Cole wanted was company this holiday. Jamison Reed kind of company. Especially not since she practically screamed Christmas, with the red-and-green-colored stripes in her hair and her reindeer sweater. Oh yeah, and she signified everything he wanted to forget about that time in his life.
But where the hell else is she supposed to go? Yes, that. And this was Jamison. Matt Reed’s little sister. Back in high school, Matt had been his tight end on the football team. And his sister had always been around at team functions. And she’d outsmarted him for half the scholarships the school had to offer. Every time an academic competition was announced, the two of them were right there, neck and neck. Until his life turned upside down.
They hadn’t exactly run in the same circles, but she’d always been there. As Cole walked her back to the suite, the bellboy trailing in their wake, he tried not to remember all the little details he knew about her.
Things he didn’t need to remember. Like she was only eleven months behind her brother so they’d been in the same year in school. Details like how cute she was. Spunk and brains in a tiny package. Barely five feet three inches, she’d been a little dynamo.
But the number one thing he really didn’t want to remember? That smart mouth of hers. Yeah, probably best he didn’t think about her mouth.
She was one of those happy, bubbly kinds of people. Always looking at the positive slant on things. Always optimistic. He’d never understood her. Mostly, he’d kept a wide berth. Until that party.
Sure, he and her brother had been teammates, but they hadn’t been super tight. Even then, he’d understood the rules of the team. No one messed with anyone’s family. Too bad you broke that rule.
And now like a moron, he’d invited her to stay with him. As in, within feet of him. The scent of her apple-and-ginger shampoo would drive him nuts. Not that he had been trying to pay attention to what she smelled like. Whenever she was standing right next to him, it was impossible not to notice.
She was exactly like he remembered, different streaks in her hair maybe, but her skin was the same brushed cinnamon and her dark eyes still all knowing.
She’d looked at him with such focus that he was convinced she could see every thought. But the thing that still got him were her lips. They were full and soft. And he wondered if she still used strawberry lip gloss.
What? No. He was not going there again. The last thing he needed was that kind of distraction. Hell, she’d probably forgotten all about that night anyway. But the masochistic part of him hoped she hadn’t.
He opened the door for her and she whispered a “Thank you.” The bellboy went in next and Cole directed him to the loft bedroom just up the stairs. After he’d tipped the young man and Jamie set her laptop case on the counter, he shrugged, ready to show her where things were. But she spoke first.
“Th-thank you for this. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was going to do. Probably camp out in the lodge or something. You saved my behind.”
“Like I said, I have the room. And it’s no problem. We messed up the reservation so it was my responsibility to fix it. Besides, you’re a friend, of sorts.”
Her eyes went wide and his skin pricked with heat. Was she going to call him on what happened with them all those years ago?
But she didn’t. Instead, she said, “I—uh notice you haven’t decorated yet. You want some help putting all the stuff up?”
Her smile was overly bright and it was apparent that, unlike him, she