on the granite island and then looked at her thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t have any female clothing on hand, but go on into my bedroom and rummage around.You can make do with rolling up some sweats, or long underwear might be a better fit since they’re tighter. Grab a flannel shirt or whatever you want. It’s all clean.”
Claire’s eyes widened.“I can’t dig around in your drawers!” She shook her head. “Wait, that didn’t come out right.”
Jesse’s low rumble of laughter did warm, fluttery things to her stomach. “You are one funny chick.”
“I get that a lot, but I don’t really try.”
“I’m bone tired and in a bad mood. And yet you’re able to make me laugh.What’s up with that?”
“Maybe Santa sent me.”
Jesse angled his head and gave her a hot look that almost made her slither to the floor. “I’m thinking he did.”
“Well then, you must be at the top of the naughty list.”
Jesse chuckled again, but the word “naughty” seemed to hang in the air between them. “Speaking of naughty . . .” He arched one dark eyebrow and then pulled out a six-pack of beer followed by a bottle of bourbon. “See? I have guy things, too.”
“Oh, now you’re talkin’. Mmm, I’d love me some bourbon in the eggnog.”
“Yep.” He nodded. “One of the few Christmas traditions I can’t resist,” he admitted, but his smile seemed a bit forced.
Claire angled her head in question, but when he failed to elaborate, she didn’t want to pry and let his comment slide.
“Let’s forget the beer and go for the good stuff.You in?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?”
Jesse put the heel of his hand to his forehead and cracked up.“I know firsthand that the answer is yes. God, you are something else.”
“Sorry, I was just getting into log cabin character. I can’t believe I just said that. My mother would be mortified.”
Jesse shook his head slowly. “Don’t be sorry. I haven’t laughed this hard in ages.” He shooed her with his hands.“Now, go and dig around in my drawers. When you come back, I’ll have some Christmas cheer ready for you.”When she hesitated, he said, “Claire, if you don’t, I’ll have to put on a suit to make you feel better. And I hate suits.”
“It’s not that.”
“What, then?” he asked as he uncapped the bourbon.
“Can I take a drink with me?” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and gave him a wishful look.
“Absolutely. I understand. It’s been a tough day.” He gave her a slow smile. “Coming right up.”
Claire felt another flutter in her stomach and suddenly felt the need to sit down. She watched him move with quiet efficiency and a fluid grace that was at odds with his size.When Jesse reached up to retrieve two glass tumblers from the cabinet, she admired the fit of his jeans and the stretch of flannel across his wide shoulders. She was used to seeing guys in designer clothes, but his Wranglers somehow seemed so much sexier. He had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing corded muscles in his forearms, and Claire guessed his thick, muscled body came from physical work rather than oiled machines in a sleek, modern gym.That thought brought an image of him shirtless, chopping wood....
Oh my.
“Here you go,” Jesse announced, and slid the glass across the shiny surface.
Claire took a healthy sip of the sweet creamy eggnog laced with a generous bite of bourbon. “Oh, wow.”
“Taste okay?”
“Excellent.” She took another swallow and then licked the sweetness from her bottom lip.“Oh yeah, this is hitting the spot big-time,” she commented, but then felt warmth creep up her neck once again. Why did everything she was saying seem to have sexual overtones? She watched Jesse’s long fingers drop ice cubes into his own glass and knew the answer.The man defined big, brawny masculinity, and yet there was an air of keen intelligence about him. The fact that he was a talented artist added another layer and created