Mike raised his head and looked around the warehouse.
Brock kept his eyes glued to the power strip he tested to hide his knowing grin. “She’s over by the Christmas village.”
Mike rose to his feet and ambled that direction, noticing the decorated trees were arranged in an appealing design. Rather than line them up in rows, Taylor had placed them so they meandered like a winter path. Yesterday, she’d tried to explain her vision of what it would look like when it was finished, but he’d been more interested in studying her lips and the light dancing in her eyes than listening.
Hidden by a tree decorated in Seattle Seahawks ornaments and miniature footballs, Mike listened to her thank the family who donated the Christmas village for the auction. She gave the three children each a candy cane and invited them to come back on the Friday before the auction to see the village on display.
When they left, Mike moved behind her and watched as she rubbed her fingers over a house that was part of the village set. With a thatched roof and stone front, it resembled an English cottage.
“You like that one?” Quietly, he stepped beside her.
“Yes,” she said, appearing slightly embarrassed, as if he’d caught her in the midst of a daydream.
“What’s special about that one?” he asked, noting the multitude of pieces the family donated. There were more than two dozen houses as well as buildings and various accessories scattered around the table.
Much to his surprise, Taylor released a wistful sigh. “I always had this dream that I’d live in an English cottage someday. You know, with flower boxes on the windows and maybe even a turret. Definitely a fireplace and stone steps. But I think the closest I’ll get to that dream is probably the bay window in Uncle Bill’s kitchen.”
Tender feelings for this woman, for the glimpse she’d given into the longings of her heart, left Mike scrambling for solid footing. He reached out and grasped her hand in his, taken aback by the sizzling jolt he experienced at the innocent touch. “I’m sure you’ll have that house someday, Miss Taggart.”
“It’s silly, really,” she said, brushing aside her dreams and the melancholy she’d allowed him to see. Her bright, cheerful smile slid back into place and she looked at Mike. “Now, what can I do for you, Mr. Clarke?”
“I was wondering… that’s to say… well, you see, there’s um…” Mike stopped and cleared his throat. He’d never had trouble asking a girl out on a date. For the first time in his life, he experienced a moment of anxiety that she would turn him down. In truth, he wanted to get to know her better. To see if there was more to her than her perky façade indicated. He’d caught the briefest hint of more and wanted to investigate it, see where it led. “You’re probably aware, Miss Taggart, the Center for Hope Gala is this coming Saturday. Would you be interested in accompanying me?”
She blinked twice, as though she needed a minute to process his request. Uncertainly, she stared at him, as though she couldn’t quite fathom his words. “You… you’re asking me to go with you… to the gala. Your brother’s big fancy gala? That gala?”
Mike grinned, inexplicably pleased by her flustered state. “Yes, that gala. Would you go with me? The food should be good and there will be dancing. Last year, Brenna couldn’t stop talking about how beautiful everything looked. Kat worked hard to make it just as incredible this year. I think you’d enjoy it.”
Inane rambling wasn’t something he ever did, but he couldn’t seem to get his brain and mouth to work in sync. “Truthfully, you’d be doing me a favor by going as my date. Otherwise, I’ll have to sit by myself and fend off beautiful women all evening. Rest assured, it’s incredibly exhausting.”
Taylor grinned and shook her head. “I didn’t realize what a conceited thing you are, Mr. Clarke.” She studied him for a moment and he fought the urge to squirm under her direct gaze. Finally, she nodded in agreement. “I’ll go with you, but only on the condition you call me Taylor.”
“Taylor it is,” Mike said, liking the way her eyes lit in response to the sound of his voice saying her name. “I’ll pick you up Saturday at five. Oh, and it’s black tie.”
“Great. I look forward to it.” Flustered, she started to move away from the table then turned back. “Do you need directions to Uncle Bill’s house?”
“Nope. I know where to find you.” Mike grinned and backed away, taking in the green leopard print sweater she wore with a red skirt and black tights. One thing was certain — whatever she wore to the gala would no doubt be interesting. The thought of being the one to walk in with her on his arm left him looking forward to Saturday.
Chapter Seven
Mike wavered between panic over inviting nutty Taylor Taggart to be his date for the gala and excitement at spending time with her away from the warehouse and duties of the festival.
Twice, he picked up the phone to cancel their date, but couldn’t make himself do it. Something about her had him thoroughly intrigued, even if he didn’t want to admit it.
She dressed like a fashion train wreck, but her hair was a pretty shade of red. Her skin was flawless, her eyes lovely, her lips… well, Mike hadn’t been able to get those lips out of his mind. Her fragrance, light yet enthralling, teased his senses. The sound of her voice, the clear tones of her laughter, spoke to his heart
Saturday afternoon, he picked up the tuxedo he rented and ran by Avery’s flower shop to pay for the flowers he ordered. On the way back to his house, a sign outside Mrs. Rooney’s candy shop caught his eye so he circled the block and parked his truck. After purchasing a small box of gourmet truffles, he headed home and showered.
As he stood in front of the mirror and struggled to fasten his cummerbund and bow tie, he mused over the outfit Taylor would wear.
Odds were high she’d look like a teenager who’d raided her mother’s closet. Or maybe it would be a mother who raided her child’s closet. Either way, she would most likely raise a few eyebrows with her colorful attire.
Two weeks ago, that fact would have bothered Mike. Greatly. Now, though, he looked forward to seeing what fascinating fashion combination Taylor created for the gala. Would she wear the orange-flowered rubber boots she’d sported the other day with a full-skirted dress? Maybe she’d have on those red bib short overalls with a pair of heels. He wouldn’t mind seeing her legs in something beyond a rainbow-colored array of tights.
Entertained with the images flashing through his mind, Mike grabbed a coat and headed out the door.
Although he’d never been to Bill Ferrelly’s home, Brock’s uncle was good friends with the man and had given him directions.
He parked his newly washed and cleaned pickup at the end of the walk, grabbed the bouquet of flowers and candy, and hurried toward the house.
Nervously ringing the doorbell, he tugged at his tie and waited. Fred barked and a deep voice told her to hush before the door opened.
“Good evening, Mr. Ferrelly,” Mike said, smiling at the older man.
“Evening, Mike. Come right on in, but watch out for Fred. She’s wound a little tighter than usual tonight.” Bill shuffled back and held the door while Mike stepped inside. He’d met the young man at the warehouse earlier in the week and decided he’d do just fine for Taylor.
“I’ve experienced firsthand what happens when she gets excited.” Mike grinned at the dog then noticed the tabby cat perched on a chair near the door, tail swishing as it eyed him.
Fred started to jump up, but Bill snapped his fingers and the dog sat back down with a look that could only be described as a pout. “Taylor mentioned Fred caught you in the eye. It looks to be about healed.”
“Yes, sir,” Mike said, glad the bruising had faded to the point it was barely noticeable. Tense, Mike shifted the flowers and candy from one hand to the other. He reached down and rubbed the dog’s head, earning a grateful lick on his fingers.
“I think Taylor is ready. I’ll see what’s keeping her.” Bill turned to find her, but stopped as Taylor hurried down the hallway toward
him. “Mike’s here, punkin.”
“Thank you, Uncle Bill,” she said, stepping around the corner and smiling at Mike. She pointed to the flowers and candy. “Are those for me?”
Mike glanced down at his hands then back at Taylor. Much to his disappointment, she wore a long black coat that covered her from neck to ankles. He did notice a pair of strappy black heels on her feet. The shoes looked far more chic and feminine than anything he would have pictured her wearing. He held the bouquet of red and white carnations out to her along with the box of candy.
“Wow! You really know how to charm a girl,” she said, winking at him as she took the flowers and chocolates. “I’ll drop the flowers in water and hide the candy from these three then be right back.”
“Take your time. I’m a few minutes early.” Mike watched her disappear, assumedly into the kitchen. The cat jumped off its perch and followed her although Fred stayed in the front entry, staring up at him with one ear cocked and head tilted to the side. Mike gave the canine’s back several good scratches then worried about touching Taylor’s nice coat with dog-licked hands.
“May I wash my hands, sir?” Mike looked to Bill as the old man lingered, pleased with the attention he lavished on the dog.
“Sure thing. First door down the hall on your left.” Bill pointed down the hallway opposite of the kitchen.
Mike washed his hands and hurried back to the entry where Taylor had joined her uncle. She tugged on a pair of black gloves and wrapped a creamy cashmere scarf around her neck before kissing Bill’s cheek.
“You three stay out of trouble while I’m gone.” She gave Fred a pointed look then turned to Mike. “Ready to go?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Mike opened the door and nodded politely to Bill before he took Taylor’s elbow in his hand and escorted her down the walk to his waiting pickup. “It’s not exactly a lavish carriage, but it’ll get us to the gala and home again.”
Her gaze moved from the front bumper to the back. “It’s a terrific pickup, Mike. It has a V8 engine, doesn’t it?”
Shocked that she knew anything about what was under the hood of a vehicle, he nodded. “Yeah, it does.”
“How many horsepower?” she asked, accepting his hand as he helped her climb inside.
“Four-twenty.” Briefly, he considered picking her up and setting her in, but he didn’t want to scare her off before they ever left her driveway. Once she settled against the seat, he shut the door and hurried around the front of his pickup. He slid behind the wheel and started the engine.
Taylor smiled and smoothed a gloved hand over the leather seat. “I can smell the leather. There’s nothing in the world like that smell.”
“I like it too,” he said, flipping on the heater and pulling onto the road.
She continued talking about cars, motors, engines, and topics he wouldn’t have thought her capable of discussing. The woman held an impressive amount of knowledge in her pretty head.
He relaxed and enjoyed the hour-long drive into Portland where the gala would take place. Several times, he glanced over and caught her staring at him. Vainly, he wondered if she liked what she saw.
After both Brock and Levi gave him a hard time about looking like an overgrown sheepdog, he’d gone to the barber that morning. With his hair trimmed short, he asked to have his beard removed until only a hint of stubble along his jaw and chin remained. It shocked him the first few times he looked in the mirror to see the transformation, but he felt more like his old self. The one who would never have allowed his hair or beard to grow so long. The one who liked to joke, laugh, and live life to the fullest.
If he didn’t know better, he’d give Taylor the credit for inspiring him to change his appearance and attitude. For months, he’d wallowed in self-pity, nursing his wounded pride as much as he had his damaged heart. It felt good to climb out of that pit and look forward to an evening spent with an interesting, attractive woman.
They arrived at the venue for the gala and joined a line of vehicles waiting for their turn to pull up near the front steps leading into the hotel. Mike handed the keys to the valet and hurried around the truck, offering Taylor his hand before she could slide out on her own.
“Thank you,” she said, giving him an undecipherable look from beneath long lashes.
“Shall we?” he asked, extending an arm to her.
“We shall.” She grinned and wrapped her hand around his arm, allowing him to guide her up the steps and inside the luxury hotel.
“It’s this way.” Mike pointed toward a hallway that led to a large ballroom. Christmas carols floated over the hotel’s in-house music system while the smell of cinnamon and pine lingered in the air, adding to the festive atmosphere.
Taylor took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “It smells so good in here, like Christmas at grandma’s house.”
“Did you spend a lot of holidays with your grandmother?” Mike asked as they strolled toward the ballroom.
Taylor shook her head. “No. I only met my grandparents once that I can recall and they weren’t interested in having a child underfoot. I just meant grandma’s house in a figurative sense.”
Before Mike could come up with a reply, they reached the coat check area outside the ballroom. Eager to discover what Taylor wore beneath her coat, he steeled himself not to flinch at whatever wild costume she selected for the evening.
She stuffed her gloves in the pockets of her coat and unwound the scarf from around her neck before hastily unfastening the buttons. He moved behind her and held her coat while she lifted her arms from the sleeves then tucked her scarf inside one of them.
Stunned by her appearance, he remained rooted to the floor, mouth open in shock and eyes registering his surprise as he gaped at her.
Worried, she glanced down to make sure she didn’t have something on her gown then looked back at Mike. “What is it? Did I spill something on my dress? I tried to stay away from Fred and Ginger after I put it on. Their hair does a number on anything black.” She brushed at the lace skirt of the dress. “Do I look okay?”
Mike snapped his mouth closed and handed the coat over the counter, absently pocketing the tag they gave him to reclaim it later. Even if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t take his eyes off Taylor.
Rather than some colorful, clownish ensemble, she wore a black lace floor-length dress that showed off curves he’d never dreamed existed. Lace wrapped around the short cap sleeves crossing the sleek curve of her upper arms and followed a scalloped sweetheart edge along her bustline. The tight waist flowed into a mermaid skirt that flared at the knee, ending with a wide ripple of lace at the hemline. The only adornment to her outfit was a slender diamond bracelet reflecting the overhead lights in sparkling iridescent shards.
“You look…” Mike struggled to find words to describe how she looked.
Beautiful.
Classy.
Sexy.
Mouth-wateringly perfect.
“Amazing, Taylor. You look absolutely amazing in that dress.”
She blushed then wrapped her arm around his and leaned close to his side. “I bet you didn’t know I could dress like a grown up when the occasion warrants.”
He smiled down at her. “I’m really glad this occasion warranted it. The way you look tonight, someone could mistake you for a super-model or a celebrity. In fact, would you make sure I drink plenty of water this evening?”
Baffled by his request, her gaze held concern. “Are you not feeling well?”
He shook his head. “No. I’m feeling a little feverish and I might get dehydrated after I drool over you all evening.”
She laughed and playfully smacked his arm, feigning a confident demeanor she was far from feeling. Mike had spun her world out of balance the moment she’d stepped around the corner at Uncle Bill’s house. The bit of dark stubble that replaced his straggly beard accentuated his rugged appeal. The combination of his freshly trimmed hair and his tuxedo captivated her interest.
If anything, the tuxedo enhance
d the breadth of his shoulders and chest while highlighting the length and strength of his legs. Mike Clarke was an outrageously good-looking man, especially now that his face wasn’t half hidden beneath a mop of hair and bushy beard.
Although she had no proof, Taylor would have said Mike had been hiding behind that hair on purpose, using it as a shield of sorts.
Curious, she wondered what inspired him to change. Not only had he altered his appearance, something about him seemed different. Unable to determine what, she decided to enjoy her evening with him and not dwell on the unanswered questions.
She’d wanted to attend the gala, but despite invitations from Kat and Levi as well as Brenna and Brock to join them, she hated to go alone. Now, she looked around the ballroom with giddy excitement, taking in the gorgeous decorations done in black, white, and red. Red poinsettias, roses, and carnations carried much of the focal weight as they adorned the tables. Streamers of red carnations threaded on black ribbons hung from the ceiling. Two trees made entirely out of red poinsettias flanked the stage.
“Oh, it’s magnificent,” Taylor said, slowly turning in a circle to take in everything.
“Magnificent,” Mike repeated, his eyes glued to her. He settled a hand at the small of her back and raised the other in greeting to Brock and Brenna. “It looks like they saved us seats.”
Taylor waved to their friends. “I was hoping we’d be able to sit with them.”
“Of course,” Mike said, guiding her through the gathering crowd to a table near the front. Kat and Levi appeared, accompanied by Lewis Kingsley. After exchanging greetings, everyone except Kat took a seat at the table. She bustled around giving last minute directions with the help of her assistant, Molly.
Fascinated by the event and the people at their table, Taylor sat back and listened to the conversations going on around her.
Mike leaned over, his breath stirring the hair by her ear as he draped an arm along the back of her chair. “How are you doing, Taylor?”
Untangling Christmas (Silverton Sweethearts Book 3) Page 5