by Skye Jordan
She opened her mouth to tell Taylor she was going home, but Sexy spoke first.
“Actually, I wasn’t going to offer you a drink or ask for a date. But thanks for saving me the trouble—in the event either of those ever crossed my mind.”
He had just the hint of an accent. A bizarre tang she’d never heard before—a little Carolina, a little…Jersey? Boston? Wisconsin?
Faith swiveled again, meeting the man’s gaze squarely, caught between petulance and anger. He was leaning on the bar, his head turned toward her. And his grin had grown into a smile, creating crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Damn those were pretty eyes. His hat bore the New York Mets logo, and dark hair snuck out from under the edges.
“Just a heads-up, handsome,” she said. “If you decide to ask any woman out around here, you’d better ditch the hat. No self-respecting Carolina girl dates a Mets fan.”
He huffed a laugh and a real smile beamed across his face. One that made Faith’s stomach twist and flip. But it was the mischievous spark in his eyes that warmed the center of her chest.
“That so?” he asked.
“That’s so.”
“Who would a self-respecting Carolina girl date?”
“Atlanta Braves fan, of course. Ask anyone.”
His gaze darted to Taylor. “That right? Are you a Brave’s fan?”
“Hell yes,” Taylor confirmed.
“Duly noted.” He nodded and returned his gaze to Faith. “Miss Nicholas, if I promise not to wear my Mets hat in your presence again, would you tell me how I can find the woman running your father’s hardware store?”
She lifted one brow. No one called it her father’s store anymore. “Can I ask why?”
He chuckled and turned his gaze to the bar. “Well, see, my mama sent me to pick up our family Christmas tree,” he turned his gaze back on her with his panty-melting charisma ramped up to full power. His eyes were hot, his voice warm. “I was at the hardware store ten minutes before close, but it was already shut down tight. We’ve got a tradition, a big dinner where all the kids and grandkids and nieces and nephews and cousins all get together and decorate the tree. And, I tell you, if I go home without it…” He sucked air between his teeth with a shake of his head and his gaze lowered in a slow sweep of her face to hold on her mouth. “I’m as good as skinned.”
“Aw,” Taylor said behind Faith, her friend’s voice signaling she’d fallen for the story like a rock in a river. “How sweet.”
Faith laughed and straightened to put a little more distance between her and this tricked out version of her ex. “You can certainly spin a tale that pulls on the heartstrings, and I imagine most women fall for you hook, line and sinker.” She paused long enough for him to lift his brows in a what-can-I-say expression, then continued. “But I work with men all day, every day. Which means I can see right through bullshit. Everything you said after picking up your family Christmas tree was a big fat lie. You weren’t there ten minutes early, and there’s no family get-together tonight. But the part about getting skinned might be true. Otherwise, I doubt a city boy like you would be wasting your time chasing down some country bumpkin to get a Christmas tree.”
His brow fell. Smile faded into an irritated smirk.
Bingo. She’d been guessing at about 40% of that information, but maybe she was a better judge of character than she thought.
Faith picked up her punch, finished the drink, then licked the last bit of sugar from the rim before meeting his gaze again. “Now, why don’t you start again, and try the truth this time.”
He repositioned himself, facing her with an annoyed sigh. “My mama looked at the kitchen clock, realized it was five minutes till six, and rushed me out the door to get the tree before the store closed. And even though I did get there a few minutes before six, the store was locked up tight, so it did close early. And yes, the skinning part was true, which means one of two things for me.”
Oh, she liked this version of the man much better. And he was more entertaining than arguing with Taylor, so she dropped her chin into her hand and indulged him. “I’m listening.”
“One—you tell me how to get ahold of the girl who works the shop so I can try to sweet-talk her into letting my tree out of hock, or two…” He heaved another long-suffering sigh. “I pull a saw from my daddy’s garage, hike into the wilderness in the dark, and cut one down.”
Faith’s brows shot up. “You’re that afraid of your mama?”
He winced and huffed out a you-got-me chuckle. “I’m that afraid of my mama.”
Faith broke into laughter.
Taylor pushed to her feet. “Well, I’ve got to get home. My babysitter’s parents don’t like her out too late.” She leaned in to hug Faith and whispered, “Get yourself a Christmas present, dammit” in her ear.
When she turned to leave without even saying hello or goodbye to Sexy, Faith called after her, “Do you still need me to watch Caleb Saturday?”
“Uh, no, no,” she said in a way that told Faith she was lying so Sexy would believe she was available. “You are free as a bird.” And she blew a kiss before slipping into her jacket and out the front door.
Faith exhaled and faced temptation again. Sexy had that freakin’ adorable lopsided grin on his face. And it was less arrogant now. More...interested?
Pffft.
More interested in getting his goddamned tree from the store maybe. Guys like this weren’t interested in her. Not for real. She was glad she was tipsy or that very true realization would have stung. Especially when he stood so close his spicy, masculine scent turned her blood to lava.
She took another drink from her Jangle punch—no point in letting good alcohol go to waste—and asked. “What city did you slide in from?”
He frowned, then looked down at himself. After a second, he met her gaze again. “There is nothing about me that says city.”
She laughed, gesturing in a circle at him she said, “All...this. Everything from that Marmot parka to those L.L. Bean boots says city boy coming home for Christmas.”
He leaned back, one brow cocked. “These boots aren’t from L.L. Bean.”
“No?” she asked, smiling at the way he took the slight in stride.
“No. They’re Cabela’s.”
“Ah, well, I stand corrected. Tell me this, what are you going to do if you can’t sweet-talk the girl working the store? Because I know her and I’ve gotta warn you, everyone only thinks she’s sweet because of all that sugar on the outside.”
“Well,” he said, turning on some attitude. “I do have a knack with sweet talk. Why don’t you point me in her direction and we’ll just see how it works out.”
She chuckled, and lifted her drink to finish it off. Setting it down with a clink on the lacquered wood, she said, “Don’t bother. I’m the girl running the shop, and sweet talk bounces off me like bullets off Kevlar.”
A mix of confusion and humor quirked his mouth again. “Bullets don’t bounce off Kevlar.”
“They do when you’ve had two glasses of Kelly’s Jangle punch.”
That made him laugh, and the low, rich sound of it tingled through her belly.
“But, you’re in luck. I happen to be on my way home, so I’ll get the tree for you.” She slid off the stool, and her legs brushed his. He made no move to pull back, and Faith had just enough liquid courage in her to stand her ground and meet his gaze directly. “But here’s the deal, handsome, and there will be no negotiation. I’ll open up long enough for you to pick up the tree, period. There will be no other transactions. No stand, no ornaments, no tinsel. You’re getting nothing but the tree. Are we clear?”
He tipped his head. “I don’t know, that tinsel, that could be a deal breaker.”
“Smart ass.” She pointed a finger at his head. “And no Mets hat.”
He rolled his eyes, but swiped it off his head, stashed it behind his back, and grinned.
His hair was black, cut short, but growing out of the style and curling at the edges. His
teeth were straight and bright. His cheeks dotted with two shallow dimples.
Damn, he was adorable. Her heart tripped.
“Better?” he asked.
She gave a brisk nod, as if he didn’t make her stomach flutter. “Better.”
Much better.
Much, much better.
At the door, she reached for her jacket where it hung on a peg on the wall. Sexy plucked up the parka first and held it open for her. Faith stood there staring at the lining of her jacket for a long stupefied second. It had been so long since a man had done anything sweet for her, she almost didn’t know what to do.
Sexy shook it to get her attention. “I know it’s a short walk, but you’re gonna want it.”
Faith turned and slipped her arms into her jacket. “Thank you.”
She slung her purse over her shoulder and replaced her barriers like a force field for the one block stroll.
Outside, the air hit Faith like a snowball, but that didn’t do much to straighten out the buzz in her head. And that was fine. Good, in fact. She needed every distraction to get her through this holiday. The man beside her was a great way to start. And for the first time, Taylor’s idea of Faith stepping back into the world of men held a spark of appeal.
“I really appreciate you saving my ass,” Sexy said. “Can I take you to dinner this week to say thank you?”
She gave him a what-the-heck grin and caught sight of a Range Rover parked in front of her store with a fine layer of snow on it. Sexy’s no doubt. “You can say thank you right now.”
“But that wouldn’t be near as fun.”
She paused at the front door to the hardware store. Pulling her keys from her pocket, Faith worked the lock. “How long have you been in town?”
“I don’t know, couple hours. Why?”
“Because you sure work fast.”
“I won’t be here long,” he said. “And I know a good thing when I see it.”
Somehow she was sure he’d meant “I know what I want when I see it” but was smart enough to change up the words. Faith still heard it in his tone.
She turned back to him and met his eyes. “And do you always get what you want?”
His grin grew. “I try my damnedest.”
“I’ll just bet you do.”
Faith tried not to hold the man’s confidence against him as she pushed the door open and wandered toward the cash register. The original circa 1870 wood floors creaked beneath her feet, and she let the familiarity of the store curl around her as she picked up the box holding will-call tags.
“What name is the tree under?” she asked.
“You don’t know me?”
She glanced over her shoulder with a ready smile for the surprise in his voice. “Nope, sure don’t.”
He lifted a brow as if he didn’t believe her. “Saber?”
“Sa—“ All the nuances she’d picked up on over the last fifteen minutes clicked with the name, and Faith started laughing. “Oh, God. Of course.”
He was a Saber son. It didn’t matter which of the three sons Sexy turned out to be, they were all the same—wealthy and handsome and full of themselves. One of them had been in her class, but she couldn’t remember which. And she didn’t care. The men now had a reputation for rolling into town to visit their parents a couple times a year from their fancy city digs. They flashed their money and their shiny toys. Shot those pretty smiles around town until they got laid. Then rolled right back out again.
“Oh, yeah,” she said on a sigh of both disappointment and self-deprecation. “It all makes sense now.”
“What makes sense?” he asked.
“Nothing that would interest you.” She carried the tag toward the back door leading to her enclosed patio. “You’re mama’s tree is right out here.”
She pushed open the door and breathed deep of that amazing fresh-cut pine tree scent. After checking the tags on a few trees, she held up the correct one like a referee in a boxing match. “And we have a winner.”
Saber laughed, and the smile that lit his face would have taken Faith’s breath away if she’d been sober. Or if she hadn’t discovered he was a Saber.
“What were you drinking at the bar?” he asked.
She reached through the branches to grab the trunk, then let her body weight help her pull it upright. “Only the best holiday concoction anywhere.”
He reached into the tree just above her grasp and took hold of the trunk. “I’ll say.”
Suddenly he was close again. Close enough to feel his body heat. Close enough to smell his spicy scent mixed with fresh pine. And the whole idea of a great big Christmas O was wearing down her common sense.
She released the tree and glanced up to meet his eyes. And he was looking right at her. Right into her eyes. As if he was fully present. Not checking her out. Not already getting busy with her in his head. But right there, in the moment, with her. And he looked expectant, as if he were waiting for...something.
Since she was way out of her element, Faith took a step back. “I’m assuming a big, strong man like you can get this itty-bitty tree to your car on your own.” She sidestepped him to cross the patio and unlock the gate. “I’m not in any shape to be throwing trees right now.”
Sexy hefted the twelve-foot Noble fir—one of Faith’s largest and most expensive trees, partially wrapped safely in orange netting—onto his shoulder in one, smooth motion.
Faith’s mouth dropped open. “Well, there’s one for the books. In all the years I’ve been selling trees, I can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone handle one quite like that.”
He sauntered toward her and paused just inside the gate—and inside her personal space. A tingle of awareness that had quickly become familiar spread through Faith again. And before she knew how it had happened, her gaze slipped to his mouth. Her mind to how his lips would feel against hers. It had been so long since she’d kissed a man. So damn long.
Maybe there was something to testing the waters again. Taking the old libido on a spin with someone who rolled out of town as easily as he rolled in. Kissing without commitment? Dating without promises? Sex for sheer pleasure?
“It’s all in the set-up and balance.” His voice, low and soft, dragged her from the luscious thoughts, but the heat in his eyes hinted that his mind was headed a similar direction. “If you’ve got that right, even you could do this.”
That made her laugh, and the alcohol turned it into a giggle. “I don’t think so.”
“I’ll teach you how if you want.” The insinuation in those words quickened Faith’s heart. His low, smooth tone created a heaviness between her legs. “Imagine the reaction of all the tough guys in town when you throw a baby like this on your shoulder and carry it to their car.” His gaze took on a little heat. “Let me take you to dinner, and I’ll share the trick. Maybe I’ll even share a couple more.”
Oh, wow. Everything inside her was yelling, yes, yes, yes.
But she’d had too much common sense ruling her world for far too long for her to simply jump.
She lowered her gaze to his chest and shook her head. “Thanks anyway.”
When his feet didn’t move toward his car, she glanced at his face again. He was looking at her with a little bit of dismay. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”
She wondered if the alcohol had affected her memory. This time of year, so many family members came to town, so many previous residents returned to visit. Normally, she had a good memory. Remembering was good for business. But…
Her brows lifted. “You’re a Saber.”
“I’m Grant.”
He said it as if it should mean something. Though she had no idea what. “Nice to meet you, Grant. I’m Faith. I’m also beat, and I have another long day ahead of me tomorrow. Say hello to Hazel for me.”
He chuckled as if he found her amusing, lifted his brows and said, “Grant Saber?”
“Yeah. I got that. Grant plus Saber would equal Grant Saber. I haven’t had that much to drink.” And sh
e found the fact that he expected his name to be on the lips of everyone in town both comical and annoying. “Good night, Grant Saber.”
He huffed a sound of humorous dismay and started for the street, but before he passed through the gate, he paused beside her. “Will you let me walk you home?”
That sweet pang tugged inside her again and this back and forth was driving her mad. “I am home.” When Grant frowned and glanced toward the store, Faith added, “I live in the apartment above the store.”
“Ah...” He steadied the tree on his shoulder with one hand and pulled something from his pocket with the other. “Here’s my number. I won’t be in town long, so use it while you can.”
That did it. Now she was ticked.
Faith curled her fingers around the chain link in the gate and ignored his card. With her gaze directly on his, she offered a firm, “No, thank you. Good night.”
“You’re going to want to call me when you figure out who I am.”
“You’re lucky I have alcohol in my system, or I wouldn’t be acting this nice.” That and she was too damned tired to get pissed over his arrogance. “Please leave so I can find my pillow.”
He shot her one of those I’m-so-not-taking-you-seriously grins. With his gaze holding hers, he reached down to slip the card into the back pocket of her jeans. The move brought his lips within inches of hers. His warmth and scent flooded the space around her, and she felt a fundamental shift in her body. One that made her grip the gate harder to keep herself steady. His touch shot a tingle of sensation across her backside.
“When you’re ready,” he murmured, his voice quiet and thick, “call me. For a drink, dinner, dessert. Call me for...anything...you need.” His fingers slipped across her jaw in a whisper. “Sleep tight, angel.”
Then he stepped onto the sidewalk and strode to an SUV at the curb like nothing had happened, while Faith struggled to secure a gate she’d locked at least a thousand times over the years. His “dessert” and “anything” had hit the nerves he’d intended, shivering chords of desire through her belly. The “angel” touched a different place, the same one affected when he’d held her jacket.