Wrapped in You (4 page)

“I know what EL wire is.” She rolled her eyes. “The question is, where did you get it from on such short notice?”

“I had it lying around.” He shrugged. “Lights are lights. I didn’t have time to buy Christmas lights, and it’s easier to manipulate anyway. Are you in?”

She looked into his eyes and knew she was. She opened the car door. “Let’s go.”

He grabbed a backpack out of the car, and they walked briskly up a hill to where traffic merged on the bridge. The moment they were away from the protective barrier of the hill, fog shrouded them and the wind picked up. They hurried along the pedestrian walkway, not talking until they were halfway across the bridge.

“Here,” he said, setting the backpack down. “The pillar will protect us a little from the view of oncoming vehicles.”

“Let’s do it.” She kneeled and opened the backpack, taking out a spool of wire.

“I think we should wrap it around the column in a candy cane stripe,” he said, taking out duct tape.

“Whatever makes you happy.” Jon would have specified what he wanted if he was picky.

Mason taped the end of the wire up high as she wound it around the pole. “Your boss must love you to force you to take a break from work,” he said.

“He’s the devil incarnate.”

Mason taped another spot to keep it from sagging. “Then the devil loves you, because most people don’t care one way or another.”

She humphed.

“I’ve never forced someone who worked for me to take a vacation.” He frowned, looking introspective. “Usually I have to ask them to stay later.”

“Maybe you should let them go early one day,” she suggested, ducking under his arm to go around the iron beam one last time.

“I’ll have to try that.” He held out his hand. “Give me the end and I’ll splice it to the battery.”

She handed it to him, watching as he deftly attached the wire to a power supply.

“Why don’t you ever take a vacation?” he asked as he twisted the wires together.

She shrugged. “I like working.”

“Does your family live close by?” He paused, looking up, concerned. “Your family is alive, right?”

“Yes.” Unfortunately. She winced. “They live an hour outside London.”

“So you aren’t spending the holidays with them? Your mom isn’t upset by that? This is the first year I’m not going home and my mom’s beside herself.”

“I never go home for the holidays.”

“Oh right. You hate Christmas.” He tore some duct tape and wrapped it around the wires. “Why is that, anyway? Were you traumatized by a reindeer? Did Santa scare you as a child? Did you get coal in your stocking?”

“Why do you care?”

“I’m making conversation while we finish this. It’s soothing my nerves,” he said calmly. “I’m facing vandalism charges for you, and you aren’t going to answer my simple questions?”

“I can’t believe you want to get into this now.” She looked around.

“It’s as good a time as any.” He stopped what he was doing and gazed up at her.

“Because the holidays are a time for family, and I don’t fit in with mine,” she said when he didn’t make a move to finish.

“And your parents are okay with that?”

Her parents didn’t notice her absence—not when her sister was visiting. Everything centered around Matilda. Trudy put her hands on her hips, not wanting to talk about the perfect paragon her older sister was. “Are we done yet? I hear sirens.”

“No you don’t.” He flipped a switch.

The wire lit in a neon green spiral that stretched four feet long. Trudy smiled slowly, and then she started to laugh. “This is wicked.”

“Get next to it,” Mason said, taking his phone out. “Closer, so the glow lights you up, too. I’ll back up so the view of the city is in the background.”

She hugged the post and extended her index and middle fingers in a V-sign. “Like this?”

Mason laughed as he fixed her on his screen. “Perfect. Say ‘wanker.’ ”

She laughed, too, and he took the picture. She heard his phone snap a few in succession. “Got it,” he said. “Let’s get out of here, because it’s damn cold.”

They hurried back to his car. Huddled in the seats, ignition turned on for warmth, he pulled out his camera. She scooted close to look at the pictures with him.

“This one is my favorite,” he said, showing her the one where she was laughing while giving Jon the two-finger salute. “You’re brighter than the lights when you smile like that.”

She opened her mouth to make a sassy retort, but then she looked at him. Big mistake, because his gaze was intent on hers and he looked like he wanted to taste every inch of her.

Wishful thinking on her part? She swallowed and looked at his mouth. Was he going to kiss her again? She should push him away.

She wanted to lean forward.

He blinked and swallowed audibly. “I’ll take you home. Or to your hotel, I should say.”

They drove back in silence. She was so wrapped in her thoughts that she was surprised when the car stopped in front of the hotel.

“I’ll text you the picture,” he said softly.

Nodding, she opened the door. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave—not yet. She looked over her shoulder. “Thank you.”

He reached out to touch her cheek. “I should thank you. I haven’t had that much fun in a long time.”

Resisting the urge to put her hand over the spot that he’d touched, she hurried out of the car. She could still feel it tingling, all the way to her room, while she sent Jon the photo, and into the night as she lay in bed, sleepless.

Chapter Three

Not knowing what to do all day, Trudy decided to take a short walk to Grounds for Thought to get a latte. She put on her winter jacket and got out of her lonely hotel room.

San Francisco wasn’t as cold as London temperature-wise, but something about the way the wind whipped through made it unpleasant. She stuck her hands in her pockets and walked a little faster, careful not to trip in her heels on the uneven pavement.

A wave of warmth and homeyness hit her the moment she stepped into Grounds for Thought. She unzipped her jacket and felt herself relax.

Eve, the owner, leaned on the counter talking to a woman with a head of curls that had pink streaks. She looked up and smiled in delight. “Trudy, you came back. Can I get you a latte?”

“Please.”

“Nutella?” Eve asked, holding up a cup.

She shrugged as she sat on the empty stool next to the other woman. “Why not?”

“Eve and her Nutella lattes are as tempting as her namesake and the apple,” said the woman with the pink hair. She held her hand out. “You’re Trudy, I’m Gwen, and I love the purple in your hair.”

“Thanks.” Trudy smiled as she shook Gwen’s hand.

Eve tamped the coffee grounds into the basket. “Trudy’s visiting from London because her boss is in love.”

“Who’s he in love with?” Gwen asked, her dozens of bracelets clinking as she propped her chin on her palm, her eyes wide and curious.

“A really nice woman.” Trudy thought of Summer Welles and how she’d brought light to Jon’s life, and her heart melted with gratitude. “It was the best thing that could happen to him, even if it was the worst thing that could happen to me.”

Gwen’s gaze softened with sympathy. “Do you love him?”

“Not at all.” She shuddered, making a face. “He’s like a brother.”

“He wants her to be as happy as he is,” Eve said, setting the latte in front of her. “So he sent her here.”

“He’s floating in the clouds and wants me to do the same,” she said bitterly, holding the mug.

“And you don’t float?” Gwen asked.

She pointed at her boots. “These feet are planted firmly on the ground.”

Gwen laughed. “Well, this was a good place to be sent, regardless. And you never know. I found happiness in Laurel Heights, beyond what I’d ever imagined. What do you do?”

She blinked at the sudden change of topic. “I was an office manager, but after this trip I’ll be working as a partner in the firm. We do private investigation.”

Gwen lit up. “My beloved is a detective. You’ll have to meet Rick. You can discuss skulking.”

“She might be too busy,” Eve said as she wiped the counter. “She met a friend of Kristin’s the other morning. They’re supposed to go out.”

“We already did.” At their inquisitive stares, she shook her head. “You’re as bad as Jon. It’s not like that.”

Eve faced Gwen. “There were sparks.”

“Is he cute?” Gwen asked, leaning in.

“Definitely cute,” Eve answered.

Trudy shook her head. Mason wasn’t cute—he was
hot
. Anyone could see that despite his mismatched clothing.

“He kissed her,” Eve continued, tapping the counter. “Right here.”

“Man, and I missed it.” Gwen shook her head. Then she faced Trudy. “The kitchen is a good spot for making out, just FYI. The counters are the perfect height.”

“Gwen.” Eve shook her head.

“Like you and Treat haven’t tried it.” Gwen slid down from the stool. “Trudy, do you like gourds?”

Trudy raised her brows. “Do you mean pumpkins?”

“Close enough.” Gwen shrugged her bright green coat on. “Come by my workshop if you get lonely. It’s just down the street, next to Romantic Notions. We can paint together and talk and have tea. Spiked, of course.”

“Of course,” Trudy said, grinning. “Thanks.”