Free Claustrophobic Christmas by Ellie Marvel Page A

head and the window glass. “Are you, um, cold anywhere?”
    He shook his head slowly. “Not a bit.”
    “Can I have my feet back?”
    “Sure.” This time he didn’t stop her when she drew her knees up.
    “I can’t imagine living somewhere it snows all the time. No wonder you don’t want to repeat the Alaska trip.”
    “Unfortunately, I can imagine it.” He’d spent a long season in upper Canada once. “It’s not my favorite climate.”
    “Nor mine.”
    Darcy didn’t seem to realize the blanket wasn’t covering her outer thigh, the one nearest the vents. James could distinguish some white, panty-like fabric near her hip. “Is there anything else I can do to make you comfortable?”
    “Noooo.” She drew it out like she had something in mind.
    So did he. She could hardly be toastier than if he took off his clothes and got under that blanket with her. Body heat.
    “What can I do for you, Darcy?” he asked as suggestively as possible without coming across like a sleaze.
    She picked up the jelly beans and rattled the box. Her movement shifted the blanket over the tempting glimpse of leg. Damn. “Iced tea?”
    “You’ll have to go pee.” He waved at the snow and ice pelting the windshield. “Christ, look at it coming down.” He’d let her put the pants on for a potty break, he supposed.
    “I’m going to have to go to the bathroom sooner or later. I might as well enjoy it,” she said with a shrug. “Sweet or unsweet?”
    “What do you take me for, darlin’, a Yankee?” he said with a laugh. “It’s sweet tea.”
    “Any lemon in it?”
    “Nope.” He got the thermos out and poured tea into his travel mug while she arranged the tray of jelly beans between them. She sat cross-legged, facing him, and poked around in the jumble of candy. “They’re out of order.”
    “So we’ll be surprised.”
    “I don’t like surprises,” she said.
    “I wouldn’t have guessed that. That’s interesting.” Along with the claustrophobia, that would also explain her reaction when he’d shown up at her office. To him it was a logical assumption they’d spend Christmas together. To her, it was a surprise. Weird.
    “Is it?” She held up a yellow bean to the cab light.
    “Well, yeah. I thought everybody liked surprises.”
    “Surprise, surprise,” she said with a little smirk. “I don’t.”
    “Why not?”
    “I don’t know. The control thing, I guess. Staying on top of my environment.” She put the bean in her mouth, chewed, and pulled a face. “I hate lemon.”
    “Wash it down.” He handed her his tea mug.
    She blinked at him like that was a surprise too. “This is your cup.”
    “So?”
    She opened her mouth to respond, and he stretched across the seat to put a red candy between her lips. “Cherry.”
    Her lips pursed. “Cinnamon.”
    “Hate that too?” He could smell it in the air, on her breath. She’d taste spicy if he kissed her right now.
    She chewed and swallowed. “Give me the cup.”
    “One more.” He held up another red and she leaned out of his reach. He scooched to the middle of the bench seat and set the candy box in his lap. “It’s not lemon.”
    “It’s probably another—” she started to say and he raised the candy to her mouth. Her lashes flickered down as she glanced at his hand. He rubbed the jelly bean across her bottom lip.
    “Candy’s good for you. Gives you strong teeth and bones. Open up.”
    Her warm breath blew across his fingers. She slowly complied. He slid it past her teeth, resisting the urge to grab her by all that hair and drag her into his lap.
    “What flavor is it?” he asked.
    She bit down, licked her lips. “Cinnamon.”
    “Not a surprise, then,” he pointed out. “Does that work for you?”
    “I don’t hate it.” She finally raised her eyes to his. “Your turn.”
    “Goody.” He watched as she sorted through colors. Her head shadowed her actions, blocking the overhead light, until she produced a marbled brown