Merry Me
Page 3
"Lynn, open your heart for once. If he asks you out, say yes. Or better yet, ask him out," Jeremy whispered, then backed away from the window with a parting wink.
Talk about increasing the nerves flying in every direction. Why would he put such thoughts in her head? Each step took complete concentration as she walked back to his table. A friendly smile appeared as she poured him a cup of coffee. Do the job. That's what gave her the tips she desperately needed. And don't spill a drop. Friendly or not, he could still stiff her if she didn't act like a professional.
"Anything look good?" she asked, as she stepped back for much needed space. Plus, no spilling the coffee.
Would he really ask her out? Could she even ask him out? What was wrong with her? She wasn't going to ask him out. She knew nothing about this man other than he could ignite her body with a simple word. Her name. And her priority the next two weeks was to find three more gifts for her daughter, not to focus on a man. No matter how cute it was when his smile created two small dimples.
"Umm…pie. What do you suggest?"
"The apple pie is great. Or we have a wonderful mixed berry pie, created just for the holidays. Jeremy, our amazing cook, concocted it himself."
His face fell into a frown, dismissing his dimples with sudden ease. Why the sad look?
"Did I make the choice difficult? The apple pie is really great." So is the berry pie. God, it sat on the tip of her tongue to say it. Ugh! The choice was difficult. They both were really great.
His smile reappeared as if it never dissipated. "You really enjoy the holidays, don't you?"
Strange question.
"Christmas is a wonderful time of the year." A brow rose as she shifted her feet.
He looked pained for a brief second, so brief, she almost missed the flash of pain in his eyes. His smile never wavered once.
"I can hear the pleasure in your voice. It's nice."
Pleasure. Yeah, that was flowing just nicely as his words, yet again, slid over her with a tender stroke.
But why the sad spark in his eyes? The smile stayed firmly in place, except the sadness couldn't be mistaken. Christmas was the one time of year that should lift a person up.
It could bring her down plenty of times, this morning a prime example. Just as swiftly, she removed those feelings like a broom to a dusty floor. Sweeping it with a brisk action as it flew home into the duster and right into the garbage can. Happy sensation back in its correct place.
"I love Christmas. Always have. Even when times get rough, I always will."
"It lights up your face so beautifully." He cleared his throat and looked down at the menu, tapping it gently. "Apple pie sounds great. I'll have a slice of that."
She walked away before more questions pelted his sad frame. And the compliment. He said she was beautiful. Another good reason to walk away. It didn't matter why he didn't like Christmas. Because that was clearly obvious. How could she even contemplate going out with a man that didn't like Christmas?
Wait! He didn't ask her out. One compliment and the assumptions emerged. He was just being polite.
Good. A nice tip was coming soon. Right?
***
Elliot shifted in the booth as she walked away toward the counter again. The front door didn't matter. The strange looking man on the right seemed harmless. But removing her from his line of sight was simply impossible. She had the kind of legs that just begged a man to touch, to slide their hands all the way up to the spot they craved.
His pants tightened as he moved around the booth one more time. Inappropriate thoughts of a woman he barely knew. And she loved Christmas. Huge, blinking, warning sign right there. He had no time for a woman, especially one that enjoyed Christmas. How in the world could he continue faking his enjoyment for the holiday when her enthusiasm lit up the room?
Eat the apple pie. Almost like a contestant in a pie-eating contest. In and out of this diner. He did his duty by dropping off the donation box. Made up for his father's forgetful memory. Seriously, he'd have to causally dig deeper into that. If his father needed to see a doctor, nothing would stop Elliot from forcing him to go. Losing his dad would be like the world ending by an asteroid.
Throwing a tired hand through his hair, he slowly dropped it as everything around him faded away—except one thing.
A bright red ribbon with glittery snowflakes sparkling like fresh dew on a cool spring day.
Holy shit!
The same ribbon that was on the gift outside in his car. Was that a popular ribbon? Could you get that anywhere? Where did Lynn get it?
And damn, if it didn't look cute tied around her hair. Tied just as perfectly as the gift.
She strolled back to his table with a piece of pie and a gentle smile. Something about that smile gave a little strike to the lock on his heart.
The words to ask her about the gift stalled. That smile frightened him. Letting in any woman, especially this holiday spirited one would bring nothing good. She'd be offended he wanted to return her gift, if his assumptions about that bow were correct. A woman so happily infectious about Christmas wouldn't like her gift returned.
The coffee slid down his throat with a rancid flavor. How rude. Nobody had ever called him that. He couldn't return the gift to her. He'd never offend this gorgeous woman.
But he could still donate it somewhere else where she'd never know.
"Here you go. One slice of apple pie. Is the coffee as delicious as you were told?" she asked.
Almost choking as he took a sip, he tapped his chest to clear his throat. The earlier taste went down with guilt, but he couldn't deny it was good coffee. "Very. Thank you."
Another sweet grin from her. Damn that present. She turned around to walk away.
"Uh, Lynn, I have a question."
***
She stopped, her heart pounding so loudly Jeremy in the kitchen could probably hear it. He couldn't possibly be asking her out. What would she say? Should she accept? What about Laura?
All ridiculous questions, of course. The near choking episode to her coffee question could only mean one thing. The coffee wasn't that good. There went her tip. He probably wanted to know who made the coffee.
She did.
"Yep. How can I help?"
"I was thinking about donating a gift to the church…in Mulberry. That's where I live. I'm horrible at that sort of stuff. What would you suggest?"
The pounding slowed as her smile dipped a fraction. What an idiot! Of course, he wasn't going to ask for a date. And he clearly wasn't too concerned about the coffee. But a gift suggestion? His impression so far hadn't been very promising concerning Christmas. What in the world changed his mind? Or did she misinterpret the sad look in his eyes?
Clearing her throat as a clammy hand slid down her apron, she lifted her smile back up. "Anything I'm sure you pick out will be excellent. Just giving is a wonderful thing."
Her smile never wavered, but the way his blue eyes held her transfixed, it wanted to. Every time he looked at her, it's as if he undressed her, sending tantalizing caresses across her skin.
Walk away! Get away from this man and his charming smile, his piercing eyes and calming voice.
"What did you give, you know, to help me with my gift?"
God, he was serious. But that sadness still lingered in the depths of his eyes. What put that pain there?
"Well, think of it this way. Give something that shows the Christmas spirit, that can last a lifetime if properly cared for, and can keep you warm at night. That's what I gave. I just love shopping for my daughter. I still haven't finished shopping for her. Not much time left." A heavy breath blew her bangs out of her eyes as the nerves still ran rampant throughout.
"How old is your daughter?"
"Seven. The light of my life."
"You still have plenty of time. Still two weeks to go."
"Yes, time. I'll leave you to your pie. Good luck with the gift." She took a step, then turned back toward the table and laid a white receipt wit
h her usual thanks and holiday spirit attached. "The check. No rush."
He picked it up, his eyes accessing the check like he was about to interrogate a suspect. Was he really a cop? Did she mess up again? Maybe he didn't want the check already. Way to screw up a decent tip.
"What's this?" His finger pointed to her lovely message she always left.
May your holidays be ever bright.
"Just a bit of the Christmas spirit. It's a habit. I apologize if I offended you. I get the impression you don't like Christmas much."
He glanced away, a hint of red running up his neck, then looked back over with a grin that helped light up his eyes that had been sad moments before. "You're very perceptive. Most people don't notice. I'm not offended. I appreciate the gesture and your wonderful service."
She nodded as the relief swarmed back in. "I'll let you finish your pie."
So a good tip could still be had. She walked away before she ruined her chances. Not offended. How couldn't he be offended? He honestly admitted to not enjoying the holiday and she shoved it in his face.
With quick steps, she ducked inside the kitchen, ignoring Jeremy's kissing faces he made at her and stepped into the large walk-in freezer to cool down the heat he had ignited in her body. No amount of cold could tame the fire ignited by his sweet words and smooth voice that had stroked her body with delicious tingles.
Simple words had heated her up. What in the world would his actual touch do? His soft hands running over every inch of her skin. How soft would they be? So soft that they would take their time to caress every part of her body.
She fanned her face as she paced inside the freezer until all dangerous thoughts were clearly banished from her mind. Back to work. No more breaks, especially when she wasted a long one earlier trying to regain her composure from the crazy morning. More customers please. And a decent tip from the sweet man who disliked Christmas.
"You still look flushed," Jeremy said with a chuckle as she walked out of the freezer.
She promptly ignored him as she walked out of the kitchen. Her steps froze in place as the table moments before, occupied by one of the most intriguing man she had met in a long time, sat empty.
Tears pricked the corner of her eyes. Her chance at, God knows what, perhaps a date, gone. Yeah, right. He may have sparked a small flame of desire in her, but would a man that considerate and friendly really be unattached?
She approached the table. Money and a scrap of paper waited for her under the coffee cup.
Fifty dollars.
The coffee cup nearly fell over, as the shaking in her hand wouldn't seize. She wanted a nice tip, but fifty dollars? How could she accept this much money? She hadn't been that great of a waitress. No matter what he said, she touched a sore spot when she wrote that Christmas note on the receipt.
Her heart dropped to the floor as she read his note.
I had to leave. Thanks for the coffee and pie. I enjoyed them as much as I enjoyed talking to you. I'm still having trouble thinking of a gift idea. I hope you come up with a great idea for me. Until I see you again, Lynn, I'll be thinking of you.
Elliot Duncan
Chapter 3
Okay, four clues to help solve her problem.
He's from Mulberry, spoken from the man himself.
He's a cop, observed by Jeremy. She trusted his opinion.
His name is Elliot Duncan, written by his hand.
He has a smile that creates two tiny dimples that are simply adorable and a smooth voice that makes her heart beat with excitement.
Well, that last one really wasn't a clue. Or even a good reason why she was in her car driving to Mulberry with the start of a decent snowfall.
But she had to return the fifty dollars to Elliot. No negotiations. Way too much money. She didn't provide that great of service either.
Lynn reached for the volume control, turning it up a notch to let the music distract her mind. The wondrous melody drifted throughout the car as the white glistening snow fell down in a graceful wave.
Those eyes. Blue as the shimmering lakes that graced Minnesota. Amazing what one simple gaze from that man could do to her.
Ugh! Stop thinking about him. Repeat goal one more time. Return the money and that's it. Nothing more.
A soothing sigh slowly floated out as she pulled into a parking spot not far from the doors to the police station. Mission soon to be accomplished and then she could focus on how to make more money than ever before to buy the rest of Laura's presents. Nothing to it.
Tiny laughter shifted around the swirling cold. Yeah, right! Talk about a challenge.
With quick long strides, as long of strides her short legs could give, she headed for the front door. The biting cold and bustling snow didn't impede one step. Not that she would've let it. Nothing would stop her from this goal.
Her feet did a one eighty to turn around as the idea to confront him suddenly terrified her. Just as swiftly, she knocked out that crazy notion and continued around to her normal direction. To anyone watching, it probably looked like she just twirled in a complete circle, dancing in the beautiful snow.
Yeah, she'd go with that excuse if anyone dared to stop and ask her. Playing in the snow was fun. Her and Laura would have to pull out the snow gear once a decent blanket of snow landed on the ground. By the looks of it now, they'd have it in no time.
With jerky steps, she approached the door as it swung open, nearly clocking her in the face. She started to tumble backwards to avoid contact, as her shoes that had seen better days, slid on the sidewalk. A strong hand grasped her arm, stopping the treacherous downward fall.
"Geez, I'm so sorry. I can't believe I almost knocked you down. It's a surprise to see you again so soon, Lynn."
Her eyes slowly lifted from the white packed ground to the face of the man she had been trying to forget.
Why was she trying to forget him again? Even with gloves covering his hands, the tiny sparks of desire shocked her very core.
"Elliot. Just the man I was looking for. No apologies necessary." She politely extracted her arm from his grip and took a step back. Space was good. Lots of space.
A warm smile produced the dimples she just loved. "You were looking for me? Should I be worried or excited?"
Laughing, she tugged on her purse to dig for the fifty. "That depends. And this by no means is meant as an insult or my ungratefulness. It was truly a kind gesture."
Elliot frowned. "You have me confused. Which makes me lean towards worried."
"You were thoughtful with the tip you left, but I can't accept this much money. While I appreciate the kind gesture, it's just too much. I basically insulted you by throwing Christmas in your face and the coffee didn't seem as good as you probably like it. Here you go."
Like the lead on a fishing line, her hand dangled in the air wanting to fall in despair as she waited for him to take it. Why wasn't he taking it? And that frown. How much lower could he possibly get it?
"I already told you I wasn't offended. And the coffee was great. You deserved every bit of that tip I left. Not to mention I left abruptly. Please keep it."
His roughened glove clutched her hand, pushing it toward her purse. Putting on gloves of her own would've been very wise. Perhaps that would've helped to create a better barrier at his electrifying touch.
"I insist." She halted her hand to go any further, forming a small tug of war with him.
Elliot lightly laughed as he let go of her hand. "I don't wish to fight with you, Lynn. That's the furthest thing from my mind."
His sweet, yet masculine laugh, almost made her knees buckle. What was front and center in his mind then?
"Good. Here you go."
Ignoring her, he gestured down the sidewalk. "I just had a helluva afternoon. Care to join me for a cup of coffee? I'll show you just how good yours really was. The coffee this way can't even compare."
Mimicking his frown from earlier, her fist clenched the fifty. "I think you're trying to appease me so I forget about
the money. I don't forget things, Elliot."
"Maybe I just want to enjoy your company. Is that so hard to believe?"
"Take the money and I'll believe you."
"Follow me and I'll consider it."
She couldn't resist that lovable smile of his or the way his eyes glittered with anticipation. "Fine. One cup. And you will take the money."
"We'll see. I'm not officially convinced yet." He chuckled as he placed a hand on her back briefly, then let it fall as they made their way down the sidewalk.
A few minutes later, settled in a booth out of the harsh cold, Lynn took a sip of the coffee. Scrunching her face, the black sludge slid down her throat with an acrid taste.
"Told you it wasn't as good as yours." His eyes twinkled as he took a sip.
"Somehow I think you still come here a lot, don't you?"
"Theresa tries. It doesn't taste the same on any given day. I have faith one of these days she'll get it right."
With a laugh, she took another sip. Nope, still tasted disgusting. "You're a very kind man, Elliot."
"And you have a beautiful laugh." He cleared his throat. "You don't like it when I compliment you, do you?"
God, didn't she hide her wince well enough? "Just surprising, that's all."
"Why would that surprise you?"
"Why don't you like Christmas?"
Leaning back in the booth, his eyes clouded over with sadness. "Avoiding a question with a question. Very smooth."
Why did she keep bringing up Christmas? That sadness of his brought her down every time. "Avoiding a question with a statement of the obvious."
The light brightened in his eyes once again. "How did you find me? I'm very impressed."
"You provided me with all very good clues. Your name, where you live, and I thought I saw a badge clipped to your belt." A total lie, that last one, but Jeremy saw it. That was close enough to the truth.
"Damn, you'd make a good cop. It also makes me think I need to be a little less forthcoming with my information to strangers." His brow lifted with amusement.
"Are we strangers, Elliot?"
He leaned forward, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach out toward her. "Not any more. Friends?"