Page 62 of Baby, It’s Hotter Inside

I look at Amber. She’s got her lips folded in on themselves and she’s clearly holding back a smile. Then her words sink in.

It worked.

Naked phase.

Oh. My. God.

I glance back at Nash and he’s just staring at me, his eyes eating up every inch of my body. I look down but I can't see anything. I mean I can see that my shirt is now pretty much completely transparent, but you know I'm wearing a bra and leggings and stuff. Since I’m a plus size girl, I wear industrial sized bras and panties so it’s not like I’m standing out here advertising a demi bra and thong. So, I am fully covered.

“I have to get you the fuck out of here,” Nash says. He grabs my hand and spins me around. And then we spin around again, as if he's lost and not sure of his bearings. Finally, he seems to figure out which direction we need to go and he tugs me behind him.

Amber laughs hysterically.

“It’s not that funny,” I yell to her.

“Uh-huh. Call me later. I’ll want details.”

There are whistles and catcalls, playful ones, of course, but Nash is growling at every man that comes within two feet of me. He then presses me up against his back to try to provide me some coverage. But evidently, it’s still not enough for him.

“Fuck it,” he grumbles. Then he swings me up in his arms to carry me bridal style. Then we head off in the direction of the Candy Jar.

“What's the matter, Nash?” I ask.

“What’s the matter? For fuck’s sake, kitten. Everyone in the goddamn town just saw all your bits and pieces. Might as well have stripped you down and showed them the details of all your pink parts.”

I suck in a breath. “I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“Every other inch of your sexy legs are revealed.”

I look down and sure enough my leggings—you know the candy cane striped ones?—yeah, every white stripe is completely transparent. And my shirt, well, the shirt is see-thru, and I guess my bra is too because it's white.

So yeah, I just showed everybody in the middle of Saddle Creek all my bits and pieces, which is, you know, outstanding. Just what I wanted to do right here, right before Christmas. I mean I am in no way ashamed of my curvy body. I like every dimple, every roll, but that doesn’t mean I want to broadcast my abundance in the town square.

I'm so glad my sister is out of town because she would have enjoyed the hell out of this. She'll, of course, hear about it. There are no secrets in towns this small. And she'll never let me live it down, but it is what it is.

At least for the moment, I'm in the safety of Nash's arms. I snuggle my face up next to his neck and breathe in his scent. That warm, woodsy scent of his that always has a hint of cinnamon and cocoa powder. He smells like a kitchen with Christmas baking. Well, he smells like his kitchen. He smells like home.

He smells like mine.

“Everything's highlighted, kitten,” he says.

He’s never called me ‘kitten’ before today, but every time he says it my panties get damp.

“Not everybody gets to see that,” he continues. “Nobody else should get to see what belongs to—”

He stops talking as we reach the back door of his candy shop. He sets me down.

Again, his eyes trail over every inch of my body. I feel completely exposed. My nipples are hard, diamond points and it has nothing to do with them being cold.

“Belongs to who, Nash?” I ask.

He tears his eyes away long enough to unlock the door and pull me inside.

“I want an answer,” I say. This time I pull off my soaked t-shirt. Then start to peel down my leggings. “Who do my pink parts belong to?”

But he doesn’t answer me; instead, he picks me up and carries me to the staircase that leads to the tiny apartment upstairs. I’ve only been up here a handful of times. I know once upon a time Nash lived up here when his Granny owned the shop. But now he only stays here if he’s too tired to drive home.

I wrap my legs around his waist as his tree-trunk thighs carry us up the stairs. I toe off my shoes, leaving them to fall haphazardly behind him.