by Jill Shalvis
“True,” he agreed. “But it’s still a tough situation. The guys at all the stations in the county participate in a toy drive every Christmas. It’s really hard to think of kids not having a present from Santa to open.”
Toni nodded. She recalled the faces of such children, such families, who’d lost everything. Even now, three years later, with that life behind her, the images still haunted her. To this day she still jumped at the sound of a fire alarm, and adrenaline pumped at the sight of a fire truck. She blinked away the heart-wrenching memories and said, “The toy drive’s a great idea. Even as we speak, my assistant is dropping off our donation at the Santa Rey station.” An errand Toni had thought she was so smart sending Jayne off on so she wouldn’t have to visit the firehouse. Little had she known Brad would show up here while Jayne was gone.
“On behalf of all of us, I thank you.” He glanced back down at the flyer. “It says if you bring your little red envelope here the day you’re using the contents, Blooming Pails will provide a free rose for the date.” He looked at her and zoom went her pulse. “Pretty romantic.”
Was he laughing at her? It was impossible to tell, just something else annoying about him. She could usually read people very well, but Bradley Griffin and his unwanted sex appeal kept clogging up her receptors. “You have something against romance? Or roses?”
“Heck no. And to prove it, I’ll buy one of the red envelopes.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and she absolutely didn’t notice the fascinating play of muscles beneath his snug black T-shirt. Or the way his jeans clung to his lean hips and long muscular legs. Nope. Didn’t notice a thing. Besides, what was the big deal? She knew damn well what great shape firefighters had to be in. Just because his shape looked better than most didn’t mean she had to stare.
He pulled out his wallet and handed her twenty-five dollars. Their fingers brushed as the money exchanged hands, shooting a tingle straight up her arm. “Which envelope should I pick?”
Any one. Then take your tempting, sexy self out of here and don’t come back. She shrugged. “Your choice.”
He leaned a bit closer and she pulled in a quick breath, one that filled her head with his scent. God, he smelled good. Clean. Like sunshine and freshly showered man. She had to lock her knees and grip the edge of the counter to keep from giving in to the temptation to bury her nose against his neck and simply breathe him in.
“What if I said you were my choice?” he asked softly.
She forced her gaze to remain steady on his-his gaze that was filled with unmistakable interest. And heat. Enough heat to make her feel as if someone had just set a match to her skin. “I’d say you were trying to pick something off the wrong tree.”
For an answer he just smiled-which was bad enough on her already weakened knees, but then he winked.
Oh, God. Why did he have to wink? A man that good-looking shouldn’t be allowed to wink. Especially at her-a woman who harbored a freakish weakness for winking. And what this man could do with one wink…good lord, she needed to ring up his purchase and send him on his way.
She turned and headed toward the cash register. From the corner of her eye, she watched him peruse the tree, as if choosing a card was a monumental decision. Finally, he plucked one from an upper branch then walked toward her waggling the envelope between his long, strong fingers. “Wanna see what I got?”
God, do I ever. I wanna see everything you’ve got. She firmly told her inner voice to shut the hell up then picked up several roses and resumed her work. “If you want to show me.”
The heat that flared in his eyes stilled her hands. And damn near stopped her heart. Okay, wrong thing to say. Why, oh, why didn’t life have a rewind button? Or a judge to rule on such things. Your honor, I’d like my last statement stricken from the record.
“Oh, I definitely want to show you.”
Her mouth went dry. It simply wasn’t right how this man turned her on just standing there. Why couldn’t he be an accountant? Anything but a firefighter? She briefly wondered if Nana Rose had put some sort of Sicilian curse on her love life.
With his gaze on hers, he opened the credit-card-sized envelope and slipped out its contents. Then he looked down. And smiled. Then looked up at her. With a heated expression that threatened to melt the soles of her sneakers.
“This must be my lucky day,” he murmured. He pulled out his wallet and handed her another twenty-five bucks. “I’ll take another.”
Before she could recover from her surprise, he headed back toward the tree. Her gaze zeroed in on his ass. And what a fine ass it was. The man definitely had a great walkaway. When he crouched down to mull over the envelopes near the bottom of the tree, her head tilted to admire the view, while in her mind’s eye his jeans-along with the rest of his clothes-miraculously disappeared. When he returned a moment later holding another envelope, she realized she was still standing precisely where he’d left her, holding the twenty-five bucks, her head still tilted to one side, and the fantasy-induced image of his bare backside fried into her brain.
“Wanna see what I’ve got now?”
I just saw it. And it was fiiiine. She blinked away the image of a naked Brad and shrugged. “You can show me what’s in the envelope-since I have a feeling you will no matter what I say.”
“C’mon, you’re as curious as I am.”
True, unfortunately. Insatiably curious about what his skin would feel like beneath her fingertips. What his kiss would taste like. How his large hands would feel skimming down her body. How quickly they could bring each other to orgasm. How long they could make it last before coming together.
All things she desperately wished she wasn’t curious about.
He opened the envelope and perused its contents. “Perfect. This really is my lucky day.” He set the gift card from the first envelope he’d opened on the counter and slid it toward her.
Toni looked at it and her eyebrows shot up. “Perfect? Really? A red-and-white peppermint-striped lace Christmas thong from Mimi’s Intimate Apparel on Third Street?” She pushed the card back toward him. “Congratulations, although really, I would have pegged you for a boxer man myself.”
He pushed the card back toward her. “Glad to know you’ve been thinking about what’s under my clothes.”
“I’ve done no such thing,” she lied, ignoring the fact that she sounded like a prudish schoolmarm. A lying prudish schoolmarm. She pushed the card back toward him. “Have fun with that.”
“That’s my fondest hope.” With a single fingertip he once again pushed the card back toward her. “For you.”
Again, her brows shot upward. “Me?”
“You. Doesn’t take much of a leap of imagination to figure that that peppermint-striped thong would look a hell of a lot better on you than me.”
She slid the card back at him. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
He slid it right back to her. “C’mon. Help a guy out.” He flashed a devilish grin. “The boys at the station would razz me no end if I showed up in something from Mimi’s Intimate Apparel. You have no idea how brutal those guys can be.”
Actually she did. All too well. Never again. She pushed the card back to him, this time with a bit more force. “As much as I appreciate the thought, I have to decline. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding someone else to give those panties to.”
“Seems I already am having trouble.” Once again he pushed the card toward her, this time setting the red envelope next to it. “Since you don’t want it, why don’t you just put the card back on the tree? And instead, I’ll offer you this one.” He set the second card on the counter and nudged it toward her.
She looked down at the gift card for dinner for two at Sea Shells, Santa Rey’s most popular beachside restaurant.
“Have dinner with me,” he said softly.
Her insides threatened to melt into goo and she gritted her teeth against the appalling affect he had on her. She turned the card around so it faced him then pushed both it and th
e other one back toward him. And stiffened her rapidly weakening spine. “Thanks, but we already had this conversation. I told you I was involved.”
“I know. But I heard that you aren’t.”
“You heard wrong.”
“You have a boyfriend?”
She hesitated, cursing the fact that she wasn’t a better liar. That brief hesitation clanged out like a choir of church bells that she didn’t have a boyfriend. A triumphant gleam entered his eyes. “You don’t.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m looking for one,” she said.
“So I won’t be your boyfriend. I’ll just be the guy you go out to dinner with. What’s the harm in one little date?”
“I’m trying to get my business off the ground. I’m too busy right now to date.”
“Then what’s the harm in one little dinner? Or are you going to tell me you’re too busy to eat?”
Toni tucked a wayward curl behind her ear and drew a deep breath. “Look, I might as well tell you, Brad…you’re just not my type.”
“Because I’m a firefighter.”
It wasn’t a question. So clearly he’d heard something from someone. Well, good. It saved her from making explanations she wasn’t inclined to give. “That’s right.”
“Care to tell me what you have against my occupation?”
“No. And I can’t see how it matters. Listen, you seem like a nice guy-”
“I am. Ask my mom. She’ll tell you.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice, as if imparting a great secret. “Don’t ask my older brother, though. He’ll tell you I’m a pain in the ass.”
She had to force herself not to grin. “I appreciate you buying the gift cards, but I won’t go out to dinner with you.”
“Because I’m a firefighter.”
“Yes.”
“So, if I were say, an accountant, you’d go to dinner with me?”
“You’re not an accountant.”
“But if I were?” he insisted.
She desperately wanted to tell him no, but knew she’d never make it sound convincing given that every hormone in her body was shouting yes! “Fine. Yes, if you were an accountant, or a cowboy, or even a circus clown, I’d go to dinner with you. But you’re not, so I won’t.” She nodded toward the dozen centerpieces. “And now, unless there’s something else you’d like to purchase, I really need to get back to work.”
He studied her for several long seconds and she forced herself to hold his gaze so he could see she meant it and wasn’t being coy. Finally he gave a tight nod. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.” He scooped up the two gift cards and slipped them in his back pocket. “See ya, Toni,” he said softly, then turned and walked toward the door. The bell tinkled as he departed and Toni stared at the now-empty doorway. He was gone. Good. And undoubtedly wouldn’t be back. Even better. She’d probably never see him again. Excellent. She was glad. Really, really glad.
She returned her attention to her centerpieces. And ignored her little inner voice that told her she was a big fat liar.
3
L ESS THAN a minute after Brad departed the shop, the door opened again. Toni’s heart jumped, thinking he had returned, but instead Jayne hurried in, her cheeks flushed, eyes bright, toting a shopping bag. Toni told herself that the odd feeling rushing through her was relief. Of course it was. It certainly wasn’t disappointment.
“Sorry I took so long,” Jayne said. “I got tied up at the firehouse. Not literally, of course,” she added with a laugh. “but when I arrived bearing toys, I was an instant hit with the firefighters.”
“Uh-huh. And I’m sure the fact that you’re blond and cute had nothing to do with it.”
“Uh-huh. And I’m also very happily married, and in case you’ve forgotten…” she turned to the side and struck a pose, one that emphasized the gentle swell of her belly “…five months pregnant, which is why I drank nothing but seltzer at Breezes last night. Speaking of firefighters, wasn’t that Brad Griffin I just saw leaving the shop?”
Toni nodded. “He bought two gift cards from our tree.” Have dinner with me.
“That was nice of him.”
I’m a nice guy. Ask my mom. “The Twelve Steamy Nights of Christmas is a big hit. Every card makes a great gift.”
“And speaking of gifts…I have not one, but two for you. And both of them have to do with Brad Griffin.”
Toni’s gaze shifted to the shopping bag Jayne set on the counter. “There’s a voodoo doll of him in that bag that I can stick pins in to make him go away?”
“Nope. Even better.” Jayne reached for her bright green Blooming Pails apron. “I got scoop on him.”
Toni shook her head. “Forget it. I know everything I need to know. Not interested.”
Jayne joined her behind the counter and set to trimming roses for the centerpieces. “Not even in his nickname at the Ocean Harbor Beach firehouse? It’s very…interesting.”
Toni pursed her lips. What the hell. Might as well make conversation. “Fine. You can tell me, but only because you’re clearly dying to. What is it, and how did you find out?”
“The guys were only too pleased to tell me when they gave me those.” She nodded her chin toward the shopping bag she’d placed on the counter.
“Those?”
Jayne set down her clippers and reached into the bag. “One for each of us.”
She handed Toni a calendar. The front showed a muscular firefighter sporting six-pack abs, leaning against a fire truck. Bright crimson letters proclaimed that Firefighters Like It Hot.
“Very nice,” Toni said, setting the calendar aside. “But I hope you didn’t pay too much for it. This calendar is from two years ago.”
“It was free. The calendar was made to raise funds for fire safety and awareness after those tens of thousands of acres burned a few years back. The station had some copies left over and the guys are giving them to folks who donate toys.”
“But who needs a calendar that’s two years old?”
“Eye candy never goes out of date. For instance-check out Mr. December.”
Suppressing a sigh, Toni picked up the glossy calendar and turned to December. And found herself staring at Brad. Brad whose skin gleamed wet from the water trickling out of the fire hose nozzle draped around his broad, muscular shoulders. Brad who wore only a sexy smile and his yellow bunker pants, which hung dangerously low on his lean hips, held up by a single red suspender. Brad, whose gorgeous blue-green eyes seemed to bore into hers, inviting her to join him in a little water fun.
Her gaze skimmed over his defined pecs and ridged abdomen and she barely resisted the urge to fan herself. A small Cross of Saint Florian tattoo, the badge of firefighters, adorned his chest, right above the place where she’d feel his heart beat if she were to touch him.
“Nice hose, huh?”
Jayne’s voice yanked Toni from the stupor into which she’d fallen. To her dismay she was tracing her fingertip over his tattoo. She snatched her hand away as if the paper had burned her. “I didn’t know he’d posed for a calendar.”
“I think there’s a lot you don’t know about him-something he’d clearly like to change since he’s in here every week. And if you think it’s because he likes flowers, you’re nuts.”
Toni somehow managed to pull her gaze away from the photograph. “He asked me out again when he was here this morning.”
“Please tell me you said yes.”
“I said no.”
Jayne shook her head and pointed to the picture. “Are you crazy?”
“No, I’m busy. And not looking for any distractions. Especially with a-”
“Firefighter. I know. But who says you have to marry the guy? Just use him for sex.”
“What would Tim think if he heard you talking like this?” she asked, referring to Jayne’s studly husband, who owned Santa Rey’s largest surf shop.
“As long as I’m not using Brad for sex, he wouldn’t care.” She looked over Toni’s shoulder at the photo and heaved a gushy sigh. �
��That is one fine-looking man. Too bad about the nickname this picture spawned.”
Bad? There was nothing bad about it. Mystified, she asked, “What’s his nickname?”
“Would you believe…Elf?”
“Elf?” Toni shook her head. “How’d they get Elf from this picture? He’s gotta be six-four, and nothing on him looks small.” Nope, not a thing.
“The hat.”
Toni’s gaze shifted to his head. And for the first time she noticed that a green hat, the sort Christmas elves in malls wore, was perched on his head at a rakish angle. “Oh.”
“Definitely not what one notices first about this picture,” Jayne said.
Toni hadn’t noticed it at all. “Uh…no.” She could think of a few nicknames the photo would inspire, and none of them were Elf. Steamy, for instance. Or Red-Hot. She doubted he cared for Elf, and she couldn’t blame him.
“He certainly has a nice body,” Jayne said, picking up her shears once again.
An understatement if Toni ever heard one. “Uh-huh.”
“And really nice eyes.”
“I guess.”
“And a great smile.”
“I suppose.” If you liked slightly crooked, devilish and devastatingly sexy smiles. She forced herself to snap the calendar closed then slipped it back in the shopping bag. After setting the bag beneath the counter, she once again returned her attention to the centerpieces.
“And lovely lips,” Jayne said.
Toni heaved an inward sigh. Really lovely lips. The kind that looked soft yet firm at the same time. The kind that undoubtedly knew how to kiss extremely well.
“After we finish these centerpieces, we need to start on the floral arrangement for the Chamber of Commerce,” Toni said.
“You’re changing the subject.”
“Yes, I am. Because there’s nothing left to discuss.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re extremely stubborn?”
“Yes. My mother. And my nana. And my three brothers. And my sister.”
“Not your father?”
“I’m sure he would have if he’d been able to squeeze in a word around Mom, Nana and the siblings. Now, about the Chamber of Commerce arrangement…”