Wrapped in You (7 page)

“Yes.” He led her up the porch steps of a house that had lights on, inside and out. “Ready to get your Gaga on?”

She heaved a sigh.

He fixed the hat on her head. “You look cute, if disgruntled.”

Before she could reply he lowered his mouth to hers. The kiss tasted like mint and the promise of exciting things.

He lifted his head and searched her eyes. “I want to do that again,” he said softly.

“Okay.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and, just in case he was going to be slow about it, launched herself at him.

His hands slipped under her sweater and the shirt she wore under, sliding up her back.

Suddenly he stopped. Opening his eyes, he looked at her in question.

“What?” she asked.

“You aren’t wearing a bra.”

She couldn’t help the sly smile that curled her lips. “I told you I didn’t.”

He glanced down at her pants.

She untangled herself from him, straightening her clothes. “You’re not finding that out here.”

He paused. “But there’s a possibility of me finding out?”

The door opened right then, and a confused-looking man stood in the doorway. “Can I help you?”

Trudy smiled brightly. “We’re carol singers,” she said, poking Mason with a finger to get him to start the song.

“Right,” he mumbled, shaking his head as if to clear it. He handed her the lyric sheet as the Lady Gaga song began to play.

She looked at the words and sighed, but she belted it out like singing Christmas songs was her passion. She glanced behind her shoulder, seeing Mason train his camera on her. Putting her hands behind her back so the man whose porch they invaded wouldn’t see, she gestured rudely for the camera.

Her heart lifted when she heard Mason chuckle. Then it melted when he put his arm around her waist and joined in the chorus.

On impulse, she handed the man in the doorway her mobile and gestured at the two of them. The man shrugged and took a couple pictures as they sang about how their Christmas tree was delicious.

It all struck her: She was away from home, with a man who made her sing ridiculous songs, asking strangers to record it for posterity. It was mad, but perfect.

And right now it made her smile.

Chapter Five

She should never have told him her real name. Shaking her head, Trudy went to look in her luggage, which she hadn’t bothered to unpack. Not that it made any difference—she didn’t even own a waterproof jacket.

She put her regular coat on and zipped it up. Putting her wallet in her pocket, she stared at the scarf Mason had given her. San Francisco wasn’t wintery cold the way she was used to, but the wind kicked up and penetrated clothing like icy fingers.

She picked it up and held it to her face. It was so soft, and it smelled of Mason.

Ignoring the hideous red and white stripes, she wound it around her neck and strode out of her room before she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror.

Exiting onto the street, she headed back toward Grounds for Thought. There’d been a number of clothing stores around the café.

The first one she came to was a lingerie store called Romantic Notions. They wouldn’t have anything waterproof—at least not anything Trudy would wear in public, since it sold intimate apparel—but they’d know which store she should try. So she went inside to ask.

She stopped in the middle of the entrance. This was the most girly room she’d ever seen. Lingerie, velvet drapes, and soft lighting.

She was about to leave when someone called out, “Be right out!” from the back. Sighing, she decided she could withstand a few minutes in Girl Nirvana, so she made a more thorough perusal of the place.

The rich colors were its saving grace and the only thing that kept her from feeling uncomfortable and out of her element. It was clever really. Trudy went to a table to the left, which held a chest that had jewel-toned bras spilling out of it and a metal Christmas tree with knickers underneath. Each knicker was adorned with a little bow, as though begging to be unwrapped.

She turned to look at another table.

There was a bang on the one behind her and, as she looked over her shoulder, the metal tree fell over.

Did she knock the table somehow? Frowning, she faced it.

A giggle sounded, and then a little boy peeked from under the table’s skirt. He had a halo of golden curls on his head and the devil in his eyes. He gave her a cheeky grin and ducked back under the table.

“I’ve got it,” the woman from the back said as she strode out. The brunette smiled, and her face went from being pretty to being striking. She was tall but she still wore heeled burgundy boots. Her navy skirt was short, and her striped shirt was fitted. She looked the perfect combination of competent and sexy—the perfect person to buy lingerie from.

Trudy realized she was staring and shook her head as she reached out to right the tree. “Sorry. I’ll—”

“No worries, I’ll fix it.” The woman smiled at her. “I have a feeling it wasn’t your fault at all. Was it, Parker?”

There was a giggle from under a table.

“If you’re in the market for a small boy child, I’m having a sale today,” the woman said cheerfully as she righted the display.

Trudy bent to help. “I think I’m set on boy children.”

“Are you sure? I have a leash I’ll throw in for free.”

There was another giggle from under the table, and the woman smiled fondly in its direction.