by Cate Beauman
“I am. In a couple hours. My plane is delayed from the storm. It took off in Billings half an hour ago.”
“Oh.”
“Do you want some help with that or do you two need a couple more minutes alone?”
“If you could hold it up for me, that would be great.”
He stepped forward, freed the tree from the rope, and held it upright. The thing was a good ten or eleven inches taller than his six-foot frame. “It’s pretty big.”
“I know.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “It’s perfect.”
He looked from her to the mighty pine. “This is going in Gram’s old room?”
She nodded. “Right in front of the window.”
“Jules, it’s not going to fit.”
“I’ll make it fit. It’s so full and gorgeous. There’re hardly any empty spaces.”
“You’ll never get the angel on top. I think you need to pick something else.”
She scoffed, settling her hands on her hips. “You never want to have any fun.”
“It’s not about fun, just simple logistics.”
“Where there’s a will, there’s a way. I can’t very well walk away from the best tree on the lot.”
He recognized the determined glint in her eyes, well aware that there would be no convincing her otherwise. “Fine. How are you paying for this?”
“I’m not.”
He raised his brow. “You’re not?”
“It’s mine—payment for babysitting.”
He nodded. “Good deal.”
“I agree.” She turned around. “I just need to get some of that blue rope and tie it around one of the branches so Rod knows which one I want.”
He frowned. “Rod?”
“Yeah. Bryce’s friend. Every year I pick out the tree I want, and he drops it off and drags it upstairs for me—all for the bargain price of a tin of homemade fudge.”
“He’s one of Bryce’s delivery guys?”
“Yeah. He’s really nice—always so helpful. Now where’s that rope?” She wandered off.
Rod was also good looking, and if Chase remembered correctly, he was the one who’d pointed out Julie when she walked past one of her studio windows while she taught a class. They’d been pulling the new fridge from the back of the delivery truck when Rod spotted her, calling her Bryce’s “hottie yoga instructor friend” whom he wanted to tap. “I can bring it home for you.”
She stopped and turned. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. I’m headed that way anyway.”
“I don’t want you to miss your flight.”
“I won’t.”
“But I need help getting it upstairs. I really think I should just let Rod give me a hand.”
He didn’t. “Nah,” he said with a casual shrug. “I have time, especially if we stop talking about it and get this thing in the truck.”
“Okay.”
“But you do realize this isn’t going to fit.”
“Rod never makes comments about my choices.” She smiled pleasantly, blinking her eyes.
He held her gaze for another second and tipped the tree, leaning the front end her way as he took the trunk—a move they’d practiced several times before. “Ready?”
“Definitely.”
They moved smoothly enough to the pickup and he tossed the tree in the bed.
“Wonderful. Step one is complete.” She made an imaginary checkmark in the air and walked to the passenger’s side, sitting down as he took his seat.
“Where’s your car?”
“I stayed at Bryce and Mindy’s. I fell asleep on the couch, so they left me there. Meadow woke me up this morning with a kiss on the cheek.” She smiled. “She’s such a sweet girl.”
He wanted to ask her about Bryce, how they’d remained so close after their broken engagement, but he gave the accelerator an extra punch and drove instead. “So, no classes today,” he said, veering to a safer subject.
“No, it’s a massage day. I have my first client at nine thirty, so you driving by the lot this morning was perfect timing.”
He turned left on Old Hickory Lane and backed up in her small driveway.
“The sawhorses are out back. I was going to do this the other day, but I didn’t get around to it. I just need to grab the chainsaw from the garage.”
“We should probably take off a good half-a-foot—”
“Just a couple of inches,” she interrupted, closing the door behind her.
He sighed. Jules was going to be stubborn and make this harder than it needed to be. He got out and walked around to the back. “I’ll get this if you get the saw.” He pulled the tree from the bed.
“Sure.”
Moments later, she came back with safety glasses on and revved up the saw. He stood back, watching Jules cut through the trunk like a pro. Christ, she was sexy as hell.
She killed the engine and turned, pulling off the glasses. “Okay. Let’s take her inside. I want this beauty twinkling in the window tonight.”
He looked up toward Nana’s old bedroom window, shaking his head. “You’re the boss.”
“Do you want the trunk again?”
“Why not?” He led the way, taking the steps, and stopped at the back door.
“Oh. Here.” She tossed him the keys.
He sent the key in the lock and wiped his boots before starting inside, but he stopped abruptly when the branches caught, getting stuck in the doorway. What a surprise: It didn’t fit.
“I think we might need to give a little shove.”
He turned, chewing the inside of his cheek as his eyes locked with Julie’s.
“We can totally do this. Just a little shove,” she said demonstrating an inch with her thumb and index finger.
He sighed. “I’ll pull; you push.”
Moments later, with much effort, they wrestled the big-ass tree through the door.
“Whew,” Julie said slightly out of breath, swiping her brow with her sleeve. “Just up the stairs and we’ve got this.”
“You still think this is a good idea?”
She nodded, smiling. “I can already imagine the lights glowing.”
“You have seen Christmas Vacation before, right? When Clark cuts the rope and the branches break the windows?”
She laughed. “You know it’s one of my favorites.”
Charming and gorgeous: a lethal combination—impossible to say no to. Swearing under his breath, he grabbed the trunk again. “Fine. Let’s get this thing upstairs.”
“I’m ready whenever you are.”
They started up the steps and ran into the same problem they had with the door in the narrow stairwell. A quarter of the way up, a picture frame fell off the wall, shattering, followed by another.
“I guess it’s a little wide,” she said, looking up at him from the bottom step.
“Gee, you think? It’s almost like I told you so.” He chuckled despite himself, very much remembering how infuriating Jules could be.
She smiled. “You’re a good sport. Just keep pulling. It will all be worth it in the end.”
He was starting to wonder why he hadn’t let Rod deal with this after all, but then he looked into Julie’s big hazel eyes. He’d be damned if Bryce’s pal was going to be “tapping” her. “Right.”
With several more solid pulls, they finally made it to Julie’s cozy living room, decorated in a navy blue nautical theme.
“There. Not too bad, right?”
She’d always been an optimist. “No, not too bad. Didn’t you mention something about fudge?”
She grinned. “I’ll make you a batch tomorrow. The tin will be waiting for you when you get back. Now if you’ll just help me get the trunk in the stand, I can twist the screws.”
“Sure.” He set the trunk in the holder, scraping the ceiling with the top branches.
She crawled under the branches, pointing her spectacular ass in his direction as she secured the tree in place.
“Does Rod help with this part too?”
&
nbsp; “Actually, he does.”
“I bet,” he muttered.
“Okay. Finished.” She stood and stepped back, measuring with a nod of her head. “See? Perfect.”
He stepped back, standing next to her, not seeing what she did. “The branches are squished against the ceiling.”
“Not for long.” She dragged over her office chair and pulled the gardening sheers from her pocket. “I know you have to go, but if you wouldn’t mind spotting me, I just need to make room for the angel.”
He closed the distance between them as she stepped up into the center of the seat. Hesitating, he gripped her by the hips as she leaned forward on her tiptoes, taking a good six inches off the top branches.
“Will you hand me the angel?”
He took Gram’s treasured angel from the box and gave her the fragile piece.
“I can’t wait to get the lights on this and get it decorated.” She supported her hand on his shoulder and hopped down, stepping back again. “Just what I envisioned.”
“Looks good,” he conceded, rubbing his sticky hands together.
Julie winced. “Sap.”
“It’s not too bad. I just have to remember not to read any magazines on the flight home.”
She laughed. “Come on. I have just the thing.”
He followed her into her tiny bathroom she’d redone in a soothing spa theme.
She pulled out a bottle from the medicine cabinet. “Rubbing alcohol. Your new best friend. Hold out your hands.”
He did, and she poured the liquid into his palms.
“Give them a good rub.”
He rubbed his hands together, and the sticky residue vanished. “Good idea.”
“Leila told me about this trick.”
He turned on the sink and rinsed with soap and water.
“Here you go.” She handed him a towel.
“Thanks.”
“Have some of this too.” She squirted lotion into his palm. “Between the weather and the alcohol, you’ll get dried out if you don’t.”
He rubbed in the pink glob, smelling Julie, realizing he would be haunted by her scent for much of the day. “I guess this was a success.”
“Thanks to you.”
“Only two broken pictures.”
“I needed to replace those anyway.”
Smiling, he looked at his watch. “I should go.”
“Thanks for the help.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I’ll see you when you get back. Maybe I can help with the bathrooms or something.”
“Sure. Maybe.” He didn’t think that was a good idea but nodded anyway. Nana’s house was his priority. He’d done Julie a favor, giving her a hand before slimy Rod could. She sure as hell deserved better than him, but now it was time to back off. He and Julie were spending too much time together. They weren’t supposed to be together at all. A day away was going to be a good thing—an opportunity to get her off his mind and refocus. “I’ll see you around.”
“Bye.”
~~~~
Julie rushed upstairs with the chef’s salad she’d thrown together in hand and plunked herself on the couch, picking up the remote. She turned on the TV and flipped through the channels, searching for the right broadcasting station, smiling when she found commercials still playing. Mrs. Hubble had kept her after class for a good twenty minutes, singing her nephew’s praises in yet another attempt to set her up on a blind date. This time Mrs. Hubble brought pictures, and Julie had done her best to deflect her eager matchmaker, which had thrown off her whole evening. Once she politely shoved Mrs. Hubble out the door, she hurriedly tossed sheets in the washing machine, took a shower, then started her quick dinner preparations. Luckily, she hadn’t missed anything.
In the three years since the Tatiana Livingston Christmas Spectacular started airing, she’d watched every single show. Great live music, holiday skits and comedic spots, all performed by some of Hollywood’s biggest names. And it certainly didn’t hurt that Garrison Welch, her actor crush, was Tatiana’s co-host this evening. He was gorgeous and talented—certainly worth tuning in for.
She covered herself with the blanket Gram crocheted eons ago and sighed as she looked over at her beautiful tree. Chase had been right. The thing was huge—certainly bigger than she needed for her humble living room—and getting it inside had been a major pain in the ass, but it was worth it. She still didn’t have the Christmas spirit the way she usually did, but the smell of pine, the twinkle of lights, and the decades of collected ornaments complementing the tree skirt Nana gifted her last year helped. So did the fact that she was booked solid next week for massages despite The Spa of Bakersfield’s promotions. A relatively fun time with Chase this morning, her lovely tree, and minor financial improvements—overall, a pretty great day. And now she got to top it off with Garrison Welch.
The commercials ended, and the Tatiana Christmas Spectacular began with the red-carpet entrance of numerous A-listers. The cameras zoomed in on Cally Carlisle waving to her screaming fans, then to Josh Manning, actor extraordinaire. Julie took a bite of lettuce, tomato, and a small chunk of cheese as Garrison Welch stepped from his limo in a tux. She hummed her approval. “Very nice, Mr. Welch.”
He waved and smiled before Renee Rushman, the red-carpet announcer, mentioned that Tatiana’s limo was pulling up. Julie snuggled deeper into the couch, always eager to see what spectacular frock the great Ms. Livingston would be wearing. She wasn’t disappointed when the gorgeous redhead stepped out of the vehicle in some form-fitting gown that would be the talk of entertainment news for days to come. “So pretty,” she admired, taking another bite, wondering what it must be like to be rich and famous. She looked around at her sweet little house, knowing she would never want anything but her quiet, simple life.
She forked up more of her salad as television cameras followed America’s sweetheart toward the entrance of LA’s Grand Plaza.
“Tatiana,” Renee Rushman said, pulling the star aside for a coveted interview.
Julie helped herself to another bite of greens and stopped chewing when she caught a quick flash of a man standing profile to Tatiana with one of those earpiece-things in his ear, talking into the sleeve of his tuxedo before the camera angle changed to Renee. He looked so much like…
Tatiana’s face filled most of her screen again, and so did the man’s when he turned, his intense gray eyes scanning his surroundings. Julie swallowed, choking a little as she stared in shock. “Chase?”
She set her bowl aside and stood, certain she had to be seeing things, but that was him right there, walking alongside one of the world’s biggest actresses, ushering her inside the building. Julie sat again, no longer paying attention to what Renee said, trying to figure out how that could be. What was Special Agent Chase Rider doing with Tatiana Livingston? Why in the world was the FBI involved with a Hollywood holiday show?
Chapter Eight
Chase drove down the block in the steadily falling snow, searching for a place to park. Open spaces along the curbs of Maple Street were at a premium. Most of Bakersfield was here at the Mickle’s, so he figured he might as well stop by too. His plane landed five minutes early, and traffic had been reasonable, leaving him plenty of time to make an appearance and enjoy some of the local festivities. It didn’t make much sense to stand around Nana’s house when he could be here catching up with old friends. Billy was probably in there with his wife, and maybe Tommy and Mike. He would more than likely run into Jules as well, which was fine. A day back in LA had given him just what he needed—clarity. The fact was, he liked spending time with Julie. She was funny and sweet, and it didn’t hurt that she was easy on the eyes. Saying hello and having a couple of conversations meant nothing more than they were both mature, reasonable adults. They had a past, which had nothing to do with now. He was leaving next week. There was no reason why they couldn’t enjoy each other’s company at a neighborhood gathering.
“Here we go,” he said, wedging himself between
a Honda Civic and Kia Sorento. He shut off the engine, then the headlights, and grabbed the champagne he’d purchased last minute, remembering he needed some sort of hostess gift. He walked up the sidewalk, wearing khaki slacks and a dark green sweater, and rang the doorbell.
Mrs. Mickle opened the door. “Chase Rider.” She beamed. “You just get yourself on in here and give me a big hug.” She spread her arms.
“It’s nice to see you again.” He returned her embrace. “Merry Christmas.”
“Thank you, honey.” She stepped back, taking the gift he held out. “And thanks for this too.” She patted his arm. “I sure was sorry when your nana passed. She was so proud of you. Now you come on in and make yourself at home. You know most everyone here.”
“Thanks.” He moved farther into the noisy living room among the Christmas music, scanning the groups of people, looking for Julie…or Mike or Billy. But he didn’t see any of the three. Wandering over to the drink table, he grabbed a bottle of Winter Fest lager, popped the top, and took a sip. He tipped the bottle for another swallow and paused, spotting Julie in the corner as she grinned at something Bryce’s wife said. Damn, she was stunning in her red rushed sweater-dress that stopped mid-thigh and her black boots that came to her knees. She’d curled loose spirals into all of that shiny black hair and made her eyes look huge with mascara.
He was staring. He knew he needed to look away, but she was grinning again, one of those nose-crinkling smiles that he couldn’t resist, as she took the glass of red wine Bryce handed her.
Finally her gaze locked with his as she brought her beverage to her lips and sent him a quick wave.
Bryce and Mindy glanced his way as he took a step in their direction, but Mrs. Mickle snagged him by the elbow.
“Chase, honey, let me introduce you to some of the families who moved here while you’ve been gone.”
“Yeah. Sure. Great.” He glanced over his shoulder, looking at Julie again before he disappeared into the crowd.
He met the Lapeers, Teflers, Youngs, among many others, trying to break away for more than an hour, catching Julie’s gaze across the room on occasion. He glanced her way again as she moved toward the buffet, with Rod following at a distance. “If you’ll excuse me for just a minute,” Chase interrupted Mrs. Mickle and Mr. Green and walked off, skirting around several guests, making it next to Julie in line just as Rod opened his mouth to say something. “You don’t mind if I cut,” he said, not giving Rod a chance to respond when he turned his attention to Julie. “Hey.”