Untangling Christmas (Silverton Sweethearts Book 3) by Shanna Hatfield

Author:Shanna Hatfield [Hatfield, Shanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shanna Hatfield
Published: 2016-11-26T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

“Where did you and Mike disappear to Saturday night?” Brenna asked as she helped Taylor arrange wreaths on a large stand Brock constructed from pegboard.

“We were at the gala the whole evening.” Taylor hesitated to confess Mike had tugged her behind a grouping of Christmas trees and kissed her senseless. Even without a sprig of mistletoe in sight, she’d never been kissed so thoroughly in her life. He’d left her more than unsettled. She’d returned home baffled and disconcerted by the entire evening.

Clueless as to why he’d asked her to go in the first place, she’d been astounded by his continual compliments throughout the evening. She’d never had anyone treat her with such kind consideration and genuine care.

Despite her head assuring her it was a bad, bad idea to get involved with Mike, her heart whispered that she should find more opportunities to kiss him.

“Then why do your cheeks look like bright red holly berries?” Brenna pointed to her own cheeks, stuck out her lips, and batted her eyelashes.

Taylor laughed at the silly face and tossed a plaid bow at Brenna. “Did you and Brock have a good time?”

“We did. I hate to leave Alex as much as I have lately, but my parents are always more than willing to babysit. Between him and Avery’s two little ones, they’re getting pretty good at this grandparenting thing.”

“I should say. Your mom practically needs her feet tethered to the ground when she talks about her grandbabies.” Taylor arranged a garland along the top of the stand and reached for the bow she’d tossed at Brenna, wiring it in place.

“She really does. I’m just happy to have help with Alex when we need it.” Brenna handed Taylor another wreath to hang at the top of the tall stand. Taylor leaned down from her spot on the ladder and lifted it up to the hook where she wanted to hang it.

When she glanced back down, Brenna was digging her phone out of her pocket. “Be right back,” she said, then stepped away to answer a call.

Taylor fluffed the silver bow on the wreath she’d just hung and bent back to study it. Leaning farther than she intended, gravity pulled at her and she would have fallen off the ladder if strong hands hadn’t settled on her thighs and held her in place while she regained her balance. The sizzle shooting from the point of contact to every extremity affirmed who had their hands on her tight-covered legs.

“Hi, Mike,” she said without looking down at him as she clung to the ladder.

“How’d you know it was me?” Although she was no longer in danger of falling, his hands remained fastened on the backs of her thighs.

“It’s that mental telepathy thing. I’ve decided not to demand a refund. It might work a little after all.”

He chuckled and slid his hands down her legs, causing thoughts better left alone to float through her head.

She turned on the ladder and faced him. “What, exactly, are you doing, Mr.

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