Page 24 of Babies for the Christmas Grump

Ice-cold water hits me in the face.

“Yeah. You’re right.” I gather myself back up, smoothing my clothing down. “I’m going to?—”

And then I turn on my heels and sprint off before he can say anything else.

Shit.

I stumble back up to my room, heart racing and breath still heavy, my skin buzzing in places I didn’t know existed.

All I can think as I hurry up the stairs is:What the hell am I playing at?

I round the corner to the hall and practically trip over my own feet, trying to get to my room before I lose my nerve or let my brain catch up with my actions.

I might as well be moving in slow motion, but also, everything’s happening way too fast. One moment, I’m trying to figure out how to save a failing hotel, and the next, I’m this disaster.

I’m a disaster who can’t seem to keep the hell away from the one man I have to work with.

What is wrong with me? And when will it end?

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ryder

December 2nd

I wake before dawn,as I always do. The cold, sterile silence of my penthouse is a welcome return after last night.

Floor-to-ceiling windows line the walls, the city stretching out below in a predictable grid. There’s a comforting sensation about the quiet, about the clean, deliberate lines of the furniture.

Everything is in its place. The way it should be.

I should feel in control again. I should feel grounded.

But I don’t.

Instead, the emptiness of the space feels too wide. Too empty. I’m sitting inside a mausoleum of my own making.

I sit up in bed, the sheets cool against my skin. It’s still dark outside, the first hints of morning creeping through the blinds, and yet I feel wide awake, far too aware of the dissonance in my own head.

My mind isn’t settling. It keeps circling back to her.

Sunny.

It wasn’t supposed to matter. I’ve always been able to compartmentalize and leave things where they belong. Out of sight, out of mind.

But her laugh, the smoothness of her skin, her unpredictable nature, all of it is gnawing at me.

I rub a hand over my face, trying to wipe away the remnants of last night. I need to focus.

It was just sex.

That’s what I keep telling myself. It was a moment of weakness—a distraction. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t want it to happen.

But when she looked at me that way, when her body was pressed against mine, everything else disappeared.

I’m not a stranger to these impulses. But something about Sunny made it feel different. Too much. Too immediate.

I force myself out of bed, the cold floor sending a shock up my spine. The moment from last night still lingers, a faint scent I can’t wash off.