The Christmas Project: A laugh-out-loud romance from bestselling author Maxine Morrey. Maxine Morrey
shrugged. ‘Honest answer,’ he said, disappearing under the bed to unearth whatever treasures lay under there. After the pants incident, we’d decided to swap places.
‘Evasive answer,’ I said, stretching on my tiptoes to reach the higher items. My fingertips brushed them and I took a step back, looking to see if there was a chair I could use. I giggled as my gaze fell on Michael. He was wriggling about under the bed, pulling things out, interspersed with the occasional sneeze. What particularly caught my eye was how nice his bum looked in those jeans. I hadn’t actually noticed before, but it really was –
‘You’ve gone quiet. That makes me suspicious.’ His statement interrupted my thoughts.
‘What?’ I said, blushing and supremely glad he was still wedged under the bed so he couldn’t see.
‘You said you were going to ask a question and then just went silent. Should I be worried?’
‘No. I was just concentrating on…something.’
Which most definitely wasn’t how nice your bum is.
‘Right.’
I removed a pile of jackets from a chair tucked in the corner of the room and placed it in front of the wardrobe. Stepping up, I pulled out the pile of boxes from the top shelf. Turning, I jumped and wobbled as I found Michael stood in front of me.
Automatically, his hands shot out and rested on my waist. ‘Steady on.’
‘Do you have a stealth mode or something? Two seconds ago you were under that bed.’
‘You learn to be quiet in a big family if you want to sneak out when you’re supposed to be grounded.’
‘And I imagine that was probably quite often.’
‘I’m sure I don’t know what you’re implying.’
‘I’m sure you do. Now take these for me, would you?’
He took the pile of items off me and put them down on the floor, along with all the other items we’d so far emptied from storage. I turned back to grab a few more items. Balancing on one leg, I reached up and stretched my fingers to pull the last items towards me. The chair gave a little wobble and I gripped the shelf to steady myself. I heard Michael mutter something under his breath and a moment later, two large hands were on my waist lifting me off the chair. He plonked me down on the floor and waited until I was entirely stable before removing them.
‘Excuse me! I haven’t quite finished!’
‘You’ve definitely finished balancing precariously on chairs in my home. And anywhere else, I hope. You’re going to damn well break something if you keep that up!’
I stood straighter, going into defence mode.
‘In the nearly seven years I’ve been doing this, I have never once broken any possession of any client. So your items are entirely safe, I assure you.’
He screwed up his face for a moment. ‘I’m not talking about possessions. I’m talking about you! I’d really prefer it if you didn’t fall off and break your neck, if it’s all the same to you.’
‘That wasn’t my plan. Besides, I’ve done it hundreds of times. I was perfectly all right.’
He looked down at me, still close from when he’d lifted me off the chair.
‘I don’t care if you’ve done it millions of times. I’d rather you didn’t do it any more.’
‘Some of us aren’t blessed with your height. I need to be able to get to places.’
‘Then use a stepladder! Something made for the purpose that you can hold on to. And don’t overstretch yourself like you were just doing. It’s going to end badly one day if you keep on like that. I’m amazed it hasn’t already.’
I gave a huff. ‘I still need those last few bits out of that wardrobe.’ I pointed to where I’d been a few minutes before. Michael reached up to get the bits I couldn’t, his T-shirt rising up as he did so, exposing the muscles of his lower back, twisting and taut as he felt around for anything left. I really ought to be looking away. Ideally.
Shortly after Janey had sat back down the other night, Michael had wandered off and, moments later, was leaning against a wall, chatting to a blonde that had been eyeing him up since the moment he’d walked in. From the way she’d been leaning into him and touching his arm every few seconds, it was apparent that his pastime of trying to get a reaction out of me had been transferred to his current company – although, admittedly, the reaction he was aiming for, and clearly getting, in that situation was entirely different to the one he aimed for, and annoyingly, usually got, from me. Absentmindedly, I wondered if his current practice of ‘not giving anyone a tour of the house’ might change once it was in a better state. Somehow, I doubted it. The fact that he kept his bedroom so impersonal hinted to me that he had no inclination to show who he really was. And it didn’t look like he was going to give me the chance to suggest how he could make his bedroom more welcoming either, judging by the fact he’d bitten my head off the last time I mentioned it. From what Janey had said, Michael hadn’t always been like this. I guessed that the split with his ex-wife had really made an impact on him – and not for the better.
‘Where are you?’
‘Huh?’ I jumped as Michael’s deep voice drifted into my thoughts.
‘You were miles away.’
‘Umm…’
No, actually I was just at the top of this house, in your bedroom. Yeah, that definitely wasn’t going to be the best answer.
‘And now you’re blushing.’ His face took on a look of mild amusement.
‘I am not blushing! How ridiculous. Why on earth would I be blushing?’
‘I don’t know. But I’m intrigued to find out.’
I shook my head. ‘You’re imagining things. Now come on. There’s work to do.’
Michael gave me a look that suggested he wasn’t even remotely convinced before looking down at the pile of stuff that covered his floor.
‘I don’t even know what half this stuff is! How can I have accumulated this much crap?’
I crouched and then sat on the floor. ‘This is nothing. At least you can move in your house. You wouldn’t believe some of the places I’ve been in.’
I glanced up. Michael was looking around. His gaze travelled to the open door where another room’s door stood open awaiting a similar fate. I reached up and tugged on his arm.
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing.’ The shutters closed on his expression but I pressed on.
‘Tell me what you’re thinking.’
He ran a hand through his too-long hair. ‘Nothing. I wasn’t thinking anything.’
‘I see. You know you can’t lie for toffee, don’t you?’
His gaze flicked to me and I held it.
‘Fine. I was thinking that there is no way this house is going to be ready for visitors to stay in at Christmas.’ He transferred his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed it a couple of times. ‘You know what, Kate? This is just a waste of time. Yours and mine. And I really don’t have it to waste. There are plenty of things I could be doing instead of faffing around here.’
I pushed myself up from the floor and faced him.
‘What are you talking about? We’ve really only just started.’
‘Exactly! We’ve only just started and in a few weeks’ time I’m supposed to have a house that’s fit for everyone to stay in and produce an outstanding Christmas dinner. It’s all just a bloody farcical!’ His chest was heaving