Page 54 of The Keeper and I

“This looks wonderful,” he said.

“Thank you, dear,” Pam replied. “Gene adores Christmas, so we’ve been decorating since the first of November.”

Then, as if summoned by the mention of him, a tall, slender, gray-haired gentleman came from the next room. His horn-rimmed glasses sat low on his long nose, so his twinkling blue eyes weren’t hiding behind them. He wore a Santa hat atop his head, a sweater with Rudolph embroidered across the chest (including a red light-up nose), and slippers that resembled green elf shoes with jingle bells on the tips of the toes. At this sight of him, the color drained from Laci’s face.

“Oh, Dad…” She sighed.

He ignored her, marched up to Jordan, and offered a hand. “Well, hello-ho-ho there. You must be Jordan. Lovely to meet you, son. I’m Gene Miller.”

Jordan clamped his lips together to hide a laugh, set the bags down, and shook Gene’s hand. “Nice to meet you too.”

“Welcome to our home. I hope your journey wasn’t too difficult.”

“There was some traffic coming out of the city, but we beat most of the snow,” Jordan reported. “It’s a nice drive out here.”

“It is.” Gene paused and turned to his daughter, and a smile so warm it rivaled the fireplace came over his face. “Hello, darling girl.”

Laci forgot her embarrassment and fell into her father’s arms. “Happy Christmas, Dad.”

“Happy, indeed, now that you’re here,” he murmured into her hair.

Jordan shifted on his feet. So much affection in one room was making his skin crawl. It was sweet, but he had no idea how to react to it. He wondered if all families were like that or if the Millers were the exception.

“Pam will show you up to Laci’s room. The boys and I have almost got dinner ready,” Gene said.

“Laci’s room?” Jordan questioned, shoulders stiffening. “We’re sharing?”

“Certainly,” Pam said. “It’s polite of you to speak up, but we’re all adults here. We aren’t so naive as to think you two aren’t having sex.”

Jordan cleared his throat loudly, shooting Laci a desperate look, but she had a smirk on her face. He frowned. Sheknewher parents would put them in the same room.

“Right,” he said. “That’s quite…progressive of you, but I…” Certain he was not getting any help from Laci, he conceded. “Lead the way then.”

“Up we go,” Pam said with a cheerful clap, and started up the stairs.

Laci’s room was down a long corridor to the right of the second-floor landing. Jordan’s heart hammered against his chest the whole way. At Laci’s house in London, he used her guest room. He’d never so much as peered in the doorway of her bedroom. Sharing a room, maybe even a bed, would put them at a proximity he wasn’t certain he could continue to resist her in.

“Here we are,” Pam said, stopping. “I’ll let you get settled. See you at dinner.”

The moment the door closed behind her, Jordan rounded on Laci. “You are one sneaky wee fucker, aren’t you?”

She blinked wide, innocent eyes at him. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“That didn’t work when you wore lingerie around the house, and it’s not gonna work now.”

He remembered that night. It was the first time he truly regretted telling Laci to try her best to seduce him because it had damn near worked. She had floated around her kitchen, silk hugging her curves, and he had to grind his teeth to get the image of sitting her on the island and ripping it off her out of his mind. She'd played dumb, of course, but he knew she was aware of the effect she had on him.

“You can ask for a separate room if you want, but that’ll make them suspicious,” Laci said with a shrug.

“I won’t ask for a separate room.” He huffed. “I’ll…sleep on the floor.”

“For three days? Your back will be killing you for the match after Boxing Day.”

“I’m not caving.”

“Sleeping next to me isn’t caving.”

“It won’t make it easy.”