Be My Christmas Treat : A BWWM Christmas Romance by Nia Arthurs

Author:Nia Arthurs [Arthurs, Nia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-12-01T18:30:00+00:00

16

Mave

Sunshine bathes the street in gold. Tall trees with spindly branches grow beneath the watchful eye of skyscrapers, as if concrete and glass are daring nature to overtake them.

It’s a gorgeous day.

No snow. A slight chill to the air.

A few joggers zip past on the sidewalk, their faces flushed and their feet thumping to the beat of whatever music’s in their headphones. Cars chug by. Cyclists zoom on their bikes.

The world turns at a sleepy, Sunday-morning pace.

I glance at Clark as she marches rigidly beside me. She’s dressed in a simple white T-shirt and blue jeans. A low-maintenance kind of gorgeous.

Nothing like the models I’m used to entertaining.

Girls with layers and layers of makeup caked on their faces, hiding their true emotions beneath stilted smiles and forced giggles. Scrawny bodies carefully crafted with diets, sophisticated exercises and surgeries.

Girls who constantly take out their makeup cases. Who primp in the grocery store. Who snap pictures in every patch of sunlight they can find.

But that’s not Clark.

She seems to have no idea how stunning she looks. Or maybe she knows but doesn’t really care.

There’s something refreshingly honest about Clark’s beauty and it intrigues me.

Who the hell am I kidding?

Everything about her intrigues me.

It’s not just her looks.

It’s the way she carries herself, all straight and tall even though she’s short enough to struggle when reaching for the top shelf. It’s her earnest love for Christmas, outmatched only by her fierce love for her family.

She’s warmth and joy personified.

What would it be like to have her to myself? What would it be like to have a woman like that love a man like me?

My chest starts aching.

I can’t stop staring at her. The way her light brown skin hits against that crisp white makes my blood pump faster in my chest. And the way those fitted jeans hug her hips—

Damn. I need to touch her.

You’re just friends, Mave.

The lies we tell ourselves.

The kiss was all I could think about last night. My body practically hummed to a different frequency every time her face popped into my head.

We set a time to meet yesterday, but my impatience got the best of me.

I had to see her. Several hours earlier than we agreed.

“He’s up to something,” Clark huffs angrily.

The ‘he’ in this angry spiel is Levonte, her sister’s ex. I know this because it only took one tiny nudge and a ‘what’s wrong?’ for the words to come spilling out of her.

She’d carried on throughout the car ride and I couldn’t do much more than ‘hm’ and nod and agree that a guy I’ve never met is the scum of the earth.

“He showed up out of the blue and now he thinks he’s Father of the Year?” Her slender arms rise and fall. Like a dance.

It’s at once graceful and threatening.

“Maybe if this were the first time, I’d cut him some slack. I’m not a heartless beast you know,” Clark snaps, her steps sharp and thudding.

She’s wearing leather thong sandals. Her toenails are painted a soft shade of blue.

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