A Merrily Matched Christmas

by Virginia Nelson

  With that, he closed his office door and tried really hard not to overthink possible reasons she would be curious about his dating life. Better to focus on the tangible—get her car towed, into a shop, alert her brother, and then back to work.

  Math wasn’t abstract, it was logical and almost always ended in a solid solution. Veronica Murray, however, was complicated.

  Chapter 2

  Mac was annoyed with her, as usual, and after a lengthy lecture on how to properly care for her car and the dire circumstances of her currently vehicle-less life, she stopped him with a raised palm. If there was one thing her brother was excellent at, it was listing her many and extreme flaws. Which, to be entirely honest, he wasn’t wrong about, so why argue? She’d learned years ago that he was probably right, but she didn’t mind being flawed. She was original, she helped people, and she sometimes saw things other more ‘rational’ minds didn’t notice.

  Speaking of things she noticed and others might miss, she spotted Mr. Tall, Dark and Bearded out of the corner of her eye. Eli was snagging a cup of coffee from the machine in the break room. Well, sludge, as she’d hardly call the stuff that came out of said machine—after sitting for hours on the heat plate—actual coffee. An idea sprang to mind, and she leapt because it would offer her exactly the close contact she’d need with Eli to help him find his One True Love. “Eli can drive me back and forth to work until my car gets fixed.”

  Apparently, the bearded man could overhear their conversation as he spat out his coffee in a shocked sputter. Mopping at his face with paper napkins, he shot her a disgruntled look without saying any words.

  She decided to attribute his expression to the surprise coffee shower rather than any actual irritation with her idea and plunged onward. “Eli only lives like a block from my cottage, so it would hardly be out of his way. You’ll do it, won’t you, Eli? I won’t be a bother, pinky swear.”

  She batted her lashes at him in a way that usually got her whatever she wanted. Eli didn’t appear affected and his scowl didn’t lessen any. But what he said was, “I guess I can. How long did they say it would be until her car will be fixed?”

  “You don’t have to do that, Eli. My sister being an idiot is no reason to—”

  “You shouldn’t call her an idiot,” Eli interrupted Mac to say.

  Mac blinked at him, apparently as surprised as Ronnie at Eli’s uncharacteristic defense of her. He was a man of few words, so getting corrected by him must have shocked Mac. It sure startled Ronnie.

  “He didn’t mean anything by it.” Ronnie automatically defended her brother. She tried to ignore the little glittering spark in her chest that might have been warmth. No one ever spoke up for her like that, as it was kind of a general consensus that she was indeed flighty, flaky, and sometimes downright idiotic. The car thing? No one even seemed surprised that she’d broken her car, only irritated. It was typical Ronnie behavior, based on everyone’s reaction.

  But even though Eli had to agree that the car thing was stupid, he’d defended her and said that her brother shouldn’t call her an idiot. It was kinda sweet, really.

  The girl that snagged him would sure be lucky.

  “Whatever,” Mac said. “You still don’t have to do that. I’m sure her insurance will provide a rental, even if the damage to her vehicle was her own fault. If it doesn’t, maybe paying for the temporary car will teach her a lesson… like check your oil.” He said the last part while glaring at Ronnie, but she didn’t bother to get frustrated with it. She was kind of used to people rubbing her mistakes in her face.

  “It isn’t a bother,” Eli reaffirmed. “You live over on Mulberry, right?”

  Ronnie beamed up at him. “Yup.”

  “I can give her a ride,” Eli said. “So, Mac, did you look over those numbers I sent you this morning? About the new product?”

  Ronnie wasn’t sure if Eli realized it or not, but his conversation starter with her brother gave her the perfect opportunity to skip out of further lecturing. Heading to her own office, she pulled up the specs on the ad campaign she was planning for the new year. Marketing and media were her specialty, and even her brother agreed that she had a gift with presenting his genius ideas and products to the market. After all, you could make the most awesome and needed product in the world, but if no one knew it existed, they couldn’t buy it. To keep a business like theirs up and running—and at a significant profit over the year before—her part in their little company was pretty important. After a couple phone calls and some working on the project, she opened a new file and labeled it “Merry Matchmaker Christmas.” With a little secretive smile, she created a chart with what she knew about Elijah and the questions she had lingering.

  The side with his good points was pretty long. He was a nice guy, insanely intelligent, and made good money. His work ethic was unquestionable, solid even before he’d gone off and served in the military for a few years. He was nice looking—sexy in a broody genius kind of way, even if he wasn’t the most muscular man she’d ever met—and dressed well for his body type. He owned his own home and didn’t have any nasty skeletons in his closet that Ronnie knew about.

  In the questions category, there was a lot she needed to find out to match him up by Christmas. She’d read somewhere that the holidays were particularly hard for those without close familial ties, and so far as she knew, Elijah lived a very solitary life. He’d come to a few of their family get togethers, but always kind of stood apart and silent. His own family didn’t live around Evergreen Springs anymore, having moved away while he was in the service.

  Did he like animals? What were his hobbies? What was his idea of the perfect woman? A lot of men had set ideas in their heads that weren’t always what they actually needed, in Ronnie’s experience. So it wasn’t going to knock possible matches off her list just because a lady wasn’t his ‘type,’ but it would be good to know to perhaps narrow the field.

  Possible matches were easy to come up with. There was Brooke, over at the local bakery. She’d been divorced about a year back and had been single ever since, probably because she was so focused on her little boy, Jeremy. Oh, there was another question for her list—did Eli like kids?

  When the man in question popped his head into her office, Ronnie startled and nearly dropped the cup of coffee she’d been sipping while considering her list onto the keyboard. “Hey!” she said with perhaps too much bubbly enthusiasm, hoping to cover up for her reaction.

  A glance at her monitor proved it faced her and he’d have no way to know she was diligently spending company time trying to solve his love life issues. Unless he came around the desk…

  But he wouldn’t do that, she was confident of that fact. He didn’t get close to people, seeming to survive in a bubble of his own charisma and mystique. No way would he risk getting that physically close to her by crossing the distance to stand by her chair.

  “They’re calling for snow tonight, so I was thinking of cutting out early to stop by the store for supplies, just in case we’re snowed in tomorrow. Do you have stuff you need to finish up or would you be game to leave in about a half hour?”

  “Do you like kids?” she blurted.

  He blinked at her slowly, tilting his head just a bit before answering, “I don’t think they carry those at the grocery store. If they did, I’m pretty sure it would be illegal.”

  It took her a second to make sense of his answer. Once she did, she choked on a small laugh. Was he making a joke? Could the mysterious and brilliant bearded guy have a secret sense of humor? She quickly added that to the perks list before answering him. “No, I wasn’t thinking of buying any children. I was just trying to learn more about you.”

  “So… leaving early? Down with that plan or no?”

  She frowned. Most people just answered her random questions. Few evaded as much as Eli. “Early is good. Lemme just save this file and email myself a copy and I’ll meet you at the car.”

  He nodded and vanished. She stared at the screen in fr
ont of her. Not a bad day’s work, all in all. She’d crack his enigmatic shell, one way or another.

  He wasn’t sure why he thought something as mundane as shopping would remain so when done with the elfish Veronica, but she still managed to surprise him. Flipping that snowy length of hair behind her shoulder with a grin, he caught another peek of the hot pink hair underneath and barely resisted reaching out a hand to touch the flash of color.

  Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he considered the bakery shelves she’d gestured to. “What do you mean, if a person was a pie, what flavor would I prefer? That question doesn’t even make sense.”

  She laughed, a tinkling sound that rang in the aisle like chimes. Instantly, everything in the small-town grocery store seemed a little brighter, a little more vibrant. She was like that—making everything more colorful just with her presence. It made him want to make her laugh.

  And sigh. The sudden thought of how her pretty cheeks might flush if someone kissed those lush lips of hers, as they parted in a passionate sigh, had him shifting his weight uncomfortably. Something about this woman flat out did it for him, even if he hadn’t quite put his finger on what or why.

  “Like, if women were desserts, what sort of dessert would you pick? Are you an ice cream kind of guy—different flavor for every day of the week, endless possibilities so no one flavor ever could be your favorite? Or are you a cheesecake kind of man, preferring the rich and decadent that kind of lingers on your tongue?” She gave him a surprising quick look at her delicate pink tongue as she moistened her lips before continuing. “Or, like, are you a cake man? Preferring a lot of layers to a girl? What is your perfect dessert, Eli?”

  The line of conversation wasn’t doing anything to dampen his attraction to her, so he pointed at random. “Donuts,” he answered.

  “Huh?” she asked, stepping closer, to see where he pointed. She was close enough that he got a teasing hint of her fragrance over that of the shelves of treats before them. Sweet, yes, but with exotic undertones. She smelled like some night blooming flower that only really opened up under the light of the moon. A little dangerous, a little mysterious, and a whole lot of colorful in an otherwise dreary world.

  “Donuts. I like donuts,” he answered. “Now, what does that tell you about the kind of woman I prefer?”

  She smirked, an impish twist to her full mouth, which again made him think of kissing her until she was flushed and couldn’t speak. Was that possible? Could he kiss her so thoroughly that she couldn’t even form words? The idea teased at his imagination, tempting him to give it a shot just to see how she’d react.

  “That you like sprinkles?” she replied with a laugh before catching his hand and tugging him further into the store.

  He snorted. But she wasn’t wrong. If sprinkles were surprising peeks at brilliant hair and constant surprises, then he was thinking he was becoming more and more of a donut man the longer he spent with Veronica Murray.

  “Look, over there!” she chirped.

  He followed her finger, noticing the small child on the shoulder of a woman he thought he remembered from back in high school. Mary? Carrie? “Yeah, I think I know her,” he answered.

  “No, look at the little girl,” Veronica corrected.

  The child in question looked as if it had fallen asleep while eating a sucker. Bits of her mother’s hair were twined around the soft pink and blue confection, and the color stained the face of the child as it drooled onto its mother’s sweater. “I see the kid,” Eli said. The kid looked pretty sticky and Mom was not going to be happy when she realized the lollipop was twisted into her hair.

  “Do you like kids?” Veronica inquired.

  Considering the child in question, he couldn’t say either way. Sure, kids were nice enough in the abstract, but a sleeping one who drooled candy on its parent wasn’t exactly a poster child for parental yearning. “They’re okay,” he replied.

  “What about animals?” Veronica spun on her heel, staring at him. He nearly ran into her, not expecting her abrupt halt.

  For a second—one long and breath stealing second—she was touching his chest. Their faces were close, and it would only take him bending his head down a little for him to capture that clever little mouth of hers. She seemed to finally sense something of his intent, as her vibrant blue eyes widened slightly and her breath caught.

  Then she was taking a step back and laughing a bit nervously. “Sorry, I’m flighty—everyone says so. Never watch where I’m going.”

  “You’re not flighty,” he corrected with a scowl. “Animals are great.”

  “Sorry?” she asked, looking confused.

  Stepping very intentionally into her space, he did what he’d been longing to do for months. He reached out and brushed the hair back behind one of her ears, stroking his fingertips down her lobe before touching the hidden hot pink hair beneath. He’d wondered if it would be as soft as the rest of her hair looked or if it would feel dried out or harder due to the color.

  Soft and sleek, he found. Warm from her scalp and slipping through his fingers with the speed and silky slipperiness of sand through his hands at the beach. A soft flush touched her cheeks and she didn’t move away as he said very slowly, “I like animals. You asked what I thought about animals, and I was answering you. I like animals, although I’m not sure I’d ever want to own a goat.”

  He turned and walked away from her before her startled flush tempted him to do more—to duck down and steal that kiss he’d been thinking about, or maybe twine their fingertips.

  “Hey!” she yelped, springing into motion. “Wait up!”

  “Not going anywhere, Veronica.” He liked the way her name slid off his tongue—all those syllables because she was fascinating and her name should be, too. “Just grabbing a loaf of bread.”

  “Why not a goat?” she asked.

  He didn’t resist the smile that tugged his lips upward. “They eat anything, and I have a lot of expensive cords and devices. I’d hate to bring an animal into my home that might chew up my phone.”

  Her nose scrunched delicately. “Who brings a goat in the house?”

  “A responsible goat owner,” he said, smile stretching further.

  “That’s the weirdest thing I think you’ve ever said in my presence, Elijah Conrad.”

  “Just wait,” he advised. “We’re just getting to know one another. I’m sure I’ll come up with some weirder stuff, given time.”

  That tinkling laugh again, but this time, he didn’t look back at her. What was with her range of questions? Were they typical getting to know you questions, or did she have some oddball plan in that pretty head of hers?

  Only one way to find out, he decided. And while she was working on whatever plan she’d concocted, maybe he’d convince her to spend more time with him.

  Because he was beginning to come up with a little plan of his own…

  .

  Chapter 3

  “I’m so glad you could meet me for coffee, Brooke,” Ronnie enthused, tugging on the other woman’s hand so that she’d sit in the bench just under the streaming sunlight. The gold rays lit her brown hair to emphasize the almost red highlights, framing Brooke in the best possible way. If Ronnie was going to get Elijah to notice Brooke, she wanted the optimal situation.

  The coffee shop was perfect. Not too public, yet not too intimate. Just right for a first meeting over coffee, a little conversation, which could lead to so much more.

  Brooke stood, ruining the perfection of her previous positioning in the light from the window. “No problem, but I can’t stay long. Let me go order my drink, and I’ll be right back.”

  “No!” Ronnie practically yelped. Again, she nudged the other woman into the booth. “I’ll get it for you. Heck, you’re probably tired from running after Jeremy all day—take a load off. Rest, and I’ll be back in a jiffy!”

  Brooke gave Ronnie a strange look, but didn’t argue further. “Caramel macchiato, two extra shots, please.”

  Ronnie d
id a double take. “Two extra shots?” Be a shame if Brooke came here, not expecting to meet the love of her life, and then had a heart attack from all that caffeine.

  “Oh, honey… I don’t get a lot of shots. Yes, two extra shots. I’d say three extra, but that would make me jittery.” Brooke beamed at her, settling into the booth as she’d been directed.

  Blowing out a breath, Ronnie headed to the counter to order their coffees. She’d asked Elijah to stop by and give her a ride home, because she knew he planned to go into the shop for a few hours. Luckily, Brooke was able to get away for a few minutes, and the perfect meet cute was organized. All Ronnie had to do was introduce them, exit stage right, and wait for the creamy wedding invitation in the mail that would surely follow. How could Eli not fall for Brooke, after all? She was gorgeous.

  Glancing back at her friend, she again thought that the light was perfect for framing her. Once she and Eli got together…

  Well, Ronnie would have to stop fantasizing about what it would be like if Eli kissed her, for one. Stuffing down the inconvenient thought, Ronnie ordered drinks for all three of them—because surely Eli would be there any second.

  Ronnie turned, coffee in hand, and promptly barged right into Eli.

  “Ow!” he yelped, as scalding hot coffee had poured on his hand, down his shirt and—

  “I’m so sorry!” Ronnie practically screeched in panic. Grabbing at some paper napkins, she used a wad of them to pat at his hand and then the front of his shirt. “Gah, I told you, I’m a flake and a terrible klutz. How badly are you burned? Do I need to call an ambulance?”

  His warm chuckle was surprisingly close to her ear. “For a little coffee burn? No, I don’t think I’ll require an ambulance.”

  Jerking back in shock, Ronnie managed to whack the back of her head into his jaw. His teeth clacked together, and she cupped the back of her skull in pain. “Sorry!” she muttered again.