Page 27 of Miss Christmas

“Margo told me about Scarlet’s personal background. That you’ve both lost a sibling. A twin, no less. I think she felt that was something that might bond you two. Something deeper than the superficial beauty and bold personality.”

Maybe. But Will wasn’t going to admit that to George. It scared the hell out of him. His twin brother’s death was something he’d locked in his emotions-not-to-be visited vault and left there long ago. It wasn’t something he was ready to explore, let alone bond over any more than he already had with Scarlet. She made him do all kinds of things he’d been happy to avoid all his life. First phone sex, then talking about Tyler, and who knew what would be next? He couldn’t afford to find out. She was too addicting.

“How about the rabid independence?” He thought it was a point worth mentioning again. “Like I said, this isn’t going anywhere with her and me.” He took a bracing breath. “There was another contestant I liked. Emily. Gorgeous, sweet, smart. Not unambitious. She’s just graduated and working as an editor at a big publishing house. Living on her own. Sort of.” He sighed. “Likely with the help of her family’s trust fund.”

Emily was more in Will’s comfort zone. Something like the usual women he’d dated, but different enough. Definitely prettier and more well-read.

“Sounds interesting. Does she appreciate your sense of humor?”

“Not sure. I haven’t tried it out on her yet.”

“Then let’s move it along, man. We have a time table. Two and a half weeks to go and you need to get her at least interested enough to invite to the family’s Christmas Eve dinner, if not ask her to wear the family heirloom on her ring finger. ”

“Shit.” Grandma’s ring. She’d given it to him when he graduated college, as inspiration, she’d said. The cagey-sweet old lady.

George said, “I suppose it would be extremely tacky of me to start an office pool about which of these ladies you end up bringing to Christmas Eve?”

“Margo would never let you get away with that. In fact, she’s the kind of woman I need. Someone to keep me in line.”

George looked pensive for a moment before speaking up. “We all need different things. Sometimes we don’t even know ourselves what’s best for us.”

“Don’t get subtle on me, George. What the hell are you trying to say? Which of the two would you be betting on in the office pool? Scarlet or Emily?”

George lifted his feet down from the desk and got serious or as serious as he ever got with Will.

“I wish you the best of luck with whoever you choose, Will.” He paused a beat, “But I’m secretly on team Scarlet. Shh.” He put a finger to his lips but it didn’t obscure his devilish grin.

Will snorted. “I’m afraid I’d need a hell of a lot more than good luck to get her to a family dinner.” It pained him to say it, literally. A stab across his shoulder blades accompanied his words. “And I’d need a damned miracle to get her to wear a ring.”

“We’ll see. I have to review a marketing plan now. I’ll see you at Sunday dinner.”

Will pushed himself from his chair, saluted at his cousin and left.

Whoever said unburdening their troubles helped sort them out was full of shit. He was as confused as ever. But the deeper into confusion he sunk about what to do with Scarlet, the more convinced he became that he needed to find someone he could at least bring to dinner. Meaning someone who was the polar opposite of Scarlet.

Chapter 7

Scarlet had picked up her skimpy outfit for the store parade photo shoot and barely squeezed her boobs into it. The white-fur-trimmed plush red dress looked like a figure skater’s outfit, short and flippy.

“At least they didn’t make us wear Santa hats,” she said to Di’s reflection in the small mirror in the cramped bathroom of the diner. She didn’t have time to do anything to her hair but let it down from the ponytail that had been holding it. The waves fell past her shoulders.

“You should have taken the whole day off, Scar. I could have done your hair up nice.”

“It looks fine.” Even as determined as she was to win this damned pageant, there was no way she could afford to forego her tips from the early morning rush. Her mind skittered to Will, as it had been doing off and on in spite of her best efforts to concentrate, and the inevitable hot surge in her belly accompanied the picture of him kneeling naked before her. She could only hope their tryst wouldn’t compromise her chances of winning if someone found out. Especially the way she’d left things with him.

“Is Will going to be there today?” Dee asked. Her friend was reading her mind again.

She answered truthfully. “I hope so.”

Without examining her need to see him, she threw on her coat and rushed to the back door with Dee following. She took in a deep breath before opening the door to the trash-filled back alley. It was then that she realized she smelled. The downside to working this morning before her pageant appointment. Damn it to hell.

She turned to Di.

“Do you smell bacon?”

“Of course. We’re in a blue-collar diner. Why?”

“I mean on me. Do I reek of bacon and grease? Not that I can do much about it at this point. Unless you have some perfume in your bag?”