Page 119 of The Christmas Trap

“And did you enjoy your time here?”

He shrugs. “The gifts were always welcome.”

“Wow, don’t smother me with your enthusiasm.” I chuckle.

He shoots me a quizzical glance. “You know, I’m not big on Christmas.”

I nod. “And I can’t understand why.”

He rolls his shoulders; then his eyes reflect him coming to a decision. “The last time I remember my parents and my brothers and me being together as a family was here at this house, celebrating Christmas.It was one of the few times my mother seemed to be genuinely happy. Or so I thought.” He rubs the back of his neck. “My mum and dad had a big fight on Christmas morning. Something about the gift he got her, which she hated. She accused him of never really understanding her. They had a massive fall out. He walked out, met with an accident and died on the spot.”

“Oh my God!” The words scrape out of me on a sharp breath. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault. Or my mother’s fault. I was five when my father died. My last memory of him? He looked haunted… Upset… Hurt. It was also the last time I saw my mother smile. After my father’s passing, she became increasingly distant; drowned herself in alcohol. She couldn’t get through the next holiday season, so she overdosed on sleeping pills and passed away.”

I flinch. No wonder, he hates the holidays. What he went through as a kid would put anyone off Christmas.

“I’m really sorry that happened to you.” I close the distance to him and throw my arms around him.

He rests his chin on my head and pulls me close, the hard line of his body softening a little.

“Christmas reminds me of things I’d rather not relive. That’s why I hated it. But you changed that.”

“I did?” I tilt my face up at him.

“You sailed into my office, demanded Christmas decorations, and called it a workplace morale initiative. After that, I figured the season might deserve another shot.”

“Thank you.” I cup his cheek. “You won’t regret it.” Then because I want to lighten the mood, I add. “Your Royal Grinchness.”

It has the desired effect, for his lips curve.

He arches an eyebrow. “You being sassy, Siren?”

A thrill runs up my spine when he uses that nickname.

“How can you tell?” I flutter my eyelashes at him.

His eyes flash. His gaze fixes on my lips. “You can show me how grateful you are later.”

Heat flushes my cheeks. My panties are suddenly wet. I have no doubt exactly what he means by that. A shiver grips me.

His gaze narrows. “Let’s get you and this tree, inside.”

“It’s looking amazing.” I smooth down the tinsel that hangs from one of the branches.

Brody hangs another ornament, then steps down from the ladder he’s been using to decorate the tree. “Go on, switch the lights back on.”

After testing the lights, we turned them off to up the 'wow factor' once we finished decorating. I skip across to the wall, flip the switch, and the lights come on.

“Oh!” I walk over to stand next to him. “It’s beautiful.” I gaze at the tiny lights dotting the decorated Christmas tree.

“It is.”

Something in his voice makes me turn. He’s looking down at me. I flush a little. “I meant, the tree.”

“I meant, you.” His smile is tender.

“Aww.” I go up on tiptoe, and when he dips his head, I brush my lips against his.