Sweetblood 02.5 - Enchanted by Blood by Laurie London Page B

I’m sure she’s hungry.”
    “Oh, I’m fine, ma’am. Thank you. I ate a little something before I came.”
    “Nonsense. You haven’t truly lived until you’ve tried Marcel’s pastries.” His grandmother cupped a hand to her mouth as if she were letting Charlotte in on a secret. “They’re to die for.”
    Trace left them in the sitting room discussing various brands of hand cream. The holidays couldn’t come and go fast enough.
    CHARLOTTE HAD TO CRANE her neck to see the ceiling in the formal living room and mentally calculated the height. Although the room was large enough to accommodate a very tall tree, she didn’t want to go much more than about sixteen feet, purely from a logistical standpoint. “Real or fake?”
    “Excuse me?” Trace asked from the arched entryway.
    “Are you thinking of a fresh tree or an artificial one?”
    He looked up from his phone for a moment, one eyebrow raised as if he hadn’t heard the question. “Just do whatever you think is necessary.”
    Some help he was going to be. She talked through a few of her ideas. A large tree near the window, greenery on the fireplace mantel, Christmas-themed ornamentation, naturally.
    “Sounds good to me.” He didn’t look up from his phone, just kept punching away.
    She narrowed her eyes, suddenly needing to test him. Let’s just see how much he’s paying attention . “And then I’ll bring in a moose head and nail it to the wall over there. It’ll have giant antlers and I’ll stuff a bunch of mistletoe in its mouth.” She glanced over to him and saw him nodding, so she continued. “I’ve got a life-size blow-up Santa that we’ll set on the sofa and we’ll also dress a blow-up doll in a Mrs. Claus outfit. We’ll put red and green lights, the large ones, everywhere. From the ceiling, around the doorways, in all the potted plants.”
    Still he nodded, concentrating only on that damn phone. If he was playing Angry Birds or some other game, she was going to be seriously pissed.
    “Then we’ll crochet some red and green pillow cushions for the sofas and I’ll get a holiday sweater for you to wear at the party. You know how everyone loves wearing Christmas sweaters. You’ll have a light-up tie that twinkles when you turn it on. You’ll be the envy of all your guests. What do you think?”
    “I think it sounds great.”
    She groaned loudly. “You’re hopeless, you know that?” Impossibly gorgeous, but hopeless nonetheless.
    “Pardon?” He dragged his attention from the phone and looked up. “I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot of work-related issues hitting the fan right now.”
    “I see.” Why had he even bothered asking her to run her ideas past him if he wasn’t going to listen to a word she was saying? He should’ve just turned her loose in the house and told her to go for it.
    “And, no,” he said with a chuckle. “I nix the moose head idea, but the blow up dolls could be interesting.”
    The laugh that burst from her throat came out more like a snort. Embarrassed, she clamped a hand over her mouth and almost dropped her notebook. He grinned and her face heated up. Great, she’d totally misread him. He had been listening after all. She made a mental note not to underestimate him the next time.
    “Are you always that creative?” His eyes sparkled with amusement.
    What did he expect, she thought, lifting her chin slightly. He’d been glued to that phone the whole time. “I didn’t think you were paying attention.”
    “You didn’t?” He advanced toward her. She wanted to step backward, but knowing the sofa table was behind her, she stood firm. “So you were testing me.” He leaned in close, his breath ruffling her hair. The smell of his cologne was warm, but subtle.
    Her heart raced as she imagined running her hands over his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. She would press her nose to his skin, breathe him in, and— Good God, what was she thinking? She grabbed the edge of the table behind her in