Her hand really was something else, avian bones under velveteen. When he ran his thumb over one of her knuckles, it was with investigation, not part of the usual seductive spiel. She had artisan hands, and Trenton drew back from the brief shake with a note of reluctance. Green eyes marching once more to the drumbeat of her eyes, which were scoping out his suit.
"What? Ha, no no. No Christmas parties yet" Just a shake of the head to confirm it.
"And good thing, I think I need a couple of weeks to prep myself for all that eggnog and gingerbread."