Santa Baby Maybe (Kane Christmas Book 2)

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Santa Baby Maybe (Kane Christmas Book 2) Page 4

by S Doyle


  My head still down and deep into my thoughts, I wasn’t paying attention when I plowed into someone from behind who must have stopped suddenly.

  “Fuck, I’m sorry,” I said, my arms immediately reaching out to catch the person in front of me.

  “Oh shoot!”

  As I steadied the person, I closed my eyes, recognizing her voice.

  “Are you okay, Joy?”

  She turned to me, her eyes fierce. “No, I’m not okay. You made me drop my hot dog! It had fried onions and everything.”

  I winced, then remembered. “Hey, I thought you were vegan.”

  She pouted. “It was plant based. I know, I know. Technically, I shouldn’t be supporting any ‘meat substitute’ food items, because it could be seen as actually supporting hot dogs in general. But it’s hot dogs. I can’t live life without hot dogs.”

  I laughed. She sounded so forlorn, I couldn’t help myself. “Where did you get it?” I asked her. “I’ll run back and get you another one.”

  She blinked. “You would do that for me?”

  “I bumped into you, which caused you to drop it. It’s my fault.”

  She winced. “I did stop to take a bite. I was going to wait until I got back to my desk, but then suddenly I couldn’t wait, so I stopped. Which means technically it was my fault.”

  I shrugged. “I’ll still get you another one. I can’t stand to see you so sad.”

  It was strange but it was the truth. I was the severe one of the two of us. Joy was mostly always happy unless I was pissing her off.

  She blinked again. “Why are you being nice to me?” Clearly, she was suspicious of my motives.

  “When am I not nice to you?” I asked.

  “Uh, like, always. Need I remind you just this morning you wanted to take away one of my rings?”

  I frowned. “That’s business.”

  “Then you called me your sort.”

  I winced. “Yes, I remember this morning.”

  “Then you went to lunch with a woman,” she said casually. “I didn’t recognize her. Was it business or…”

  “Jacklyn.” I sighed and shook my head. “Technically it was our second date, but I’m afraid it was also our last one.”

  “Oh,” Joy said quietly. “She looked very lovely.”

  “She was. She is. She’s just not…”

  “The one,” Joy finished.

  “I don’t believe in any of that one person crap. I’m simply looking for a compatible partner.”

  Joy made a face.

  “What? I shouldn’t want to get married and have a family of my own? I’m going to be thirty in a few months.” Not that I was certain it made sense to have children since I’d had no role model for parenting. Still, there were books on the topic. I could study.

  “No,” she said quickly. “Who doesn’t want to fall in love with someone and start a family? It’s just the way you said compatible partner. It didn’t sound very, very…”

  “What?”

  “Sexy?” She shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re…you. So maybe that’s what you want. I just reacted because it’s the exact opposite of what I want. Anyway, thanks for the offer of the replacement dog. But I think I’ll just grab a bag of pretzels from the vending machine.”

  I walked alongside her as we were both headed back to the same building.

  “So what’s the exact opposite?” I asked, because that sounded ridiculous. “You want someone you have nothing in common with, no similar thoughts or ideas or mutual interests? How can a marriage like that work?”

  “I’m not saying I want my opposite in personality. I just want something that’s real. That’s based on love and affection. A truly deep connection with another person who will become my person in life. Not a compatible partner.”

  “I guess you have to believe in love to want that,” I said, and hated how bitter and jaded I sounded.

  She turned to me then, a look of surprise on her face. “You don’t believe in love?”

  I huffed. “Look, I get it. People fall in love. I know that theoretically. But I’ve seen enough marriages in my life to know not all married people are in love. Love is a crapshoot, not a guarantee. And it isn’t enough to hold a marriage together, if the two people are not compatible.”

  She shook her head, her long brown hair swaying against her back. “I disagree. If the love is strong enough it can withstand anything. Certainly something as simple as two people not agreeing over random issues.”

  “Figures you would say that,” I snorted.

  She mimicked my snort. “Figures you would be searching for a wife and not someone to love.”

  We’d reached the building and stopped. She glanced at me with a small smile on her lips. I couldn’t help but smile back.

  “Talk about exact opposites,” she said with a small laugh.

  “Yeah, we couldn’t be any more different could we?” Why that made something in my chest feel tight, I didn’t know.

  “Well, I don’t know. What’s your opinion on hot dogs over burgers?”

  “Hot dogs every time,” I answered without thinking. “And I also like them with fried onions.”

  She beamed at me and then patted my cheek. “See? I knew you couldn’t be all bad.”

  I reached for the door and opened it, allowing her to enter first.

  It was funny, because on the lunch menu there had been a chili dog as an option that I’d immediately wanted. However, I’d gone with soup instead because I thought it made me look more dignified and less teenage boy in front of Jacklyn.

  I considered what type of woman would be okay with me, a grown man, eating a messy chili dog dripping with Cheese Wiz in front of her.

  Joy. Joy was that type of woman.

  4

  Two Months ago

  Joy

  “Okay, now we take these cylinders of glass and carefully just move them over the flame. We’re just looking to get the glass soft. We don’t want to turn it into liquid and have it droop all over the place.” Cheryl guided the group of ten people who had signed up for the tour of the factory.

  I sat at my desk on the raised dais, overseeing our first weekend holiday event.

  Following through on W.B.’s idea, I’d proposed Sunday Ornament-Making Brunch events. Everyone got a lesson in blowing glass and an opportunity to make their own ornament. Followed by tea or hot chocolate and canapés for a true holiday celebration, even though it was still October.

  It wasn’t a huge moneymaker, but based on our bookings, which were steady right up through Christmas, it was going to be profitable. Given how fast it all booked out, I was sure W.B. was already planning ways to expand it for next year.

  The bottom line—I was feeling good. Really good. The Golden Rings line was selling to buyers like crazy. We were barely keeping up with the demand. We’d set up the website for online sales for the ornaments and started seeing crazy pre-order numbers. So many we’d had to put the Sold Out sign up for any deliveries prior to this Christmas. And we were already selling for next Christmas.

  Business was so crazy I was actually trying to convince one very stubborn CFO we needed to hire more blowers. Kane Co. was, of course, in the process of going through a merger, and mergers were always scary for everyone involved. But the truth was we couldn’t wait to see how that all worked out in the New Year. In my opinion, we needed the labor now.

  I heard the sound of breaking glass followed by groans of dismay and smiled. Glass blowing wasn’t for the faint of heart.

  A door, which lead to the warehouse on the other side of the factory floor, opened and I waved at Sophie, Wes’s sister, whom I’d gotten to know in the last few months working at Kane.

  “I can’t believe you pulled this off,” she said, hopping onto the desk next to me and snagging one of the canapés on a plate I’d scored for myself. Because canapés were delicious. There was just something better about cucumber when you cut it into tiny, perfect crustless sandwiches.

  “
I know, right? When I pitched the idea, W.B. thought it wouldn’t work. Of course, then I had to remind him it was his idea. To which he’d lifted his nose and said No idea I’ve ever had has revolved around canapés.”

  Sophie howled at my W.B. impression. “Oh my gosh, you nailed him. I mean, he’s got that stick so far up his ass, he’s probably forgotten it’s even there. Probably goes through this days just wondering why he hasn’t taken a dump in the last ten years.”

  I frowned at that. Yes, W.B. was structured and controlled, and maybe a little buttoned up, but I didn’t think he was a jerk anymore. I thought this mostly because the day after he bumped into me, he’d bought me two veggie dogs smothered with fried onions for lunch.

  He’d left them on my desk with a note that read Hot Dogs For Life.

  Since that day I’d started seeing him again in the break room and around the office, so I knew he wasn’t purposefully avoiding me.

  Not that I was purposefully seeking him out or anything. Although, I did make it a point to report all my expenses to him directly. Dropping off the bills for the Sunday events in his office so I could listen to him grumble about how this idea had to work. Informing him of any extra supplies I needed to buy because we were running low so I could get a stern lecture on budget overages.

  I don’t know why it amused me as much as it did. I suppose ruffling feathers was my way of having fun. At least, ruffling W.B.’s feathers.

  Although lately I’d noticed he’d been bothered by something. Anytime I went to his office, there was always this deep furrow between his brows, like something was troubling him deeply, and he’d been distracted during our conversations.

  “Speak of the devil,” Sophie said and then gave me a nudge in my ribs with her elbow.

  I turned toward the entrance to the building, and sure enough, W.B. was walking inside.

  “And what is he wearing? Are those jeans? And no tie? Audible gasp!”

  He was definitely not in his typical suit and tie, that was for sure. Up until now, it had been a mild fall for Denver, but today there had been a definite chill in the air. A warning to all natives that winter was on its way and that meant snow. Only W.B. hadn’t taken heed of the warning and was wearing only jeans and a thermal with no coat. A thermal that looked pretty tight across an impressive chest.

  Had I not noticed his chest in all the months we’d been talking?

  He spotted me almost immediately and instinctively I gave him a wave, which he returned with a smile as he headed over in our direction.

  “Hey, W.B.” Sophie called out to him even as she hopped off the desk.

  “Sophie,” he said somberly as he approached us.

  “Well, I guess I’ll head home now,” she said. “Joy, I’ll talk to you. W.B., enjoy the rest of your day.”

  She headed back through the door that led to the warehouse to collect her stuff. I watched her go, and even though we were in a room filled with visitors who were now well into their ornament-making stage, I still felt awkward. Or uncomfortable.

  Uncomfortably awkward, and I had no real reason to be. Or maybe I was just feeling shy? Around W.B.?

  “You came,” I stated.

  He shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “I was in the area and I was curious.”

  I knew he didn’t live in LoDo, but rather had one of those luxury apartments in the River North District. Which meant if he was in the area on a Sunday…

  “Another date?” I concluded.

  He looked at me and then sat on the desk next to me. He nodded. “We had brunch.”

  I wrinkled my nose.

  “What?”

  “Blind date brunch? That’s a lot of pressure,” I told him.

  “Why do you say that?”

  I shrugged. “Well, first you’re faced with the question of should I or should I not drink on this date? It’s early afternoon. It’s a Sunday. Do you go with a Bloody Mary, which might say something about how you spent Saturday night, or keep it simple with iced tea? Then again, that might send the signal that you can’t loosen up and have a drink on an early Sunday afternoon. Which could suggest you’re uptight.”

  “That does sound like a lot of pressure. I didn’t think that much about it. I just had a beer.”

  I winced again and it was clear he was studying my face.

  “That was wrong?”

  “Was there a TV on in this restaurant?” I asked.

  He seemed to think about it. “There was.”

  “Which means there was a football game on, because the East Coast games all would have started.”

  “Maybe.” He shifted on the desk.

  “Did you check the score?”

  “Like twice, three times tops! I don’t know what the big deal is. It wasn’t like we were talking about anything interesting. Just eating freaking twenty-dollar eggs. I might have glanced up to see the score. I’m a man. Who has a fantasy football team. I don’t have any control over that.”

  I patted his leg. His very thick, hard thigh. I wondered if he was a runner. “I’m taking it there are no plans for a second date?”

  “No. She said I obviously wasn’t committed to our getting to know each other. I have to commit to that?” he asked exasperated. “I can’t just get to know someone? Talk, chat, have a beer and see where it goes? No, now, I have to commit to a freaking first date.”

  “I’m sorry.” Only I wasn’t really. I was mostly just amused at his struggles.

  His eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not. You’re smug. I would like to see you try blind dating.”

  “I have,” I insisted. “And it was just as bad as you’re experiencing. All this expectation and hope every time, only to be let down when you can tell it’s not working. Either I’m not into him or he’s not into me.”

  “What guy wouldn’t be into you, Joy? You’re gorgeous and genuinely sweet,” he said matter-of-factly.

  I flushed from the top of my head to my toes. I don’t know that anyone had ever called me gorgeous before. Because mostly I wasn’t. I was easy to look at, sure, but not gorgeous.

  I tucked my hair behind my ear and shook my head. “You’re being generous, but thank you.”

  “You have a hard time with compliments. Why is that?”

  “I don’t,” I said, still fussing with my hair.

  “You do. Anytime anyone says anything nice about your work, your ideas, your appearance. You blush and then tuck your hair behind your ear and look down at your feet.”

  “I do not,” I insisted. “Do I?”

  “Every time.”

  “I guess…I guess I’m just not used to them. I was raised by my dad and he was not someone who threw around compliments a lot. He was a Marine sergeant and more of his focus was on discipline, structure, and performance. He had pretty high expectations that I mostly disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, I love my dad. He’s the best. He’s just who he is.”

  “That’s funny,” he said, lost in his musings.

  “What’s funny?”

  “You were raised by someone in the military and yet you’re…”

  “Do not suggest I fit into a category again or I will pinch you under your ribs so hard you’ll squeal like a pig,” I warned.

  Obviously he didn’t take my threat seriously because he laughed. “I meant, you surprise me, Joy. I was also in the military. Army. It’s how I got the money to go college.”

  “Were you deployed?”

  He nodded. “Afghanistan, but just for one year. Thankfully, the team I was with made it through the year without anyone getting blown up. I’m still on Active Reserve.”

  “Because you believe in service.”

  “No.” He corrected me. “I don’t want you to think I’m that altruistic or heroic. It’s more like I feel I owe them a debt. They basically saved me when I was eighteen. Gave me clothes, food, a cot, and structure. Every day I woke up I knew exactly what I was supposed to do and that was bliss for me.”

  I wanted to ask him why t
hat sounded so important to him. The structure, the discipline. Then, on the heels of that thought, I thought how well he and my dad would get along.

  “Looks like they’re starting to break out the tea,” he said, glancing over at the group of ornament makers. “No wild drunken Sunday afternoons for this crowd.”

  I smiled. “Absolutely not. This is clean Christmas fun. There’s plenty if you want to stay and have some canapés.”

  His eyes narrowed as if I might be teasing him. Almost like he knew how silly he’d sounded in our earlier meeting, rejecting the idea of canapés outright. Only I wasn’t teasing him. I just wanted him to stay a little longer and have tiny cucumber sandwiches with me.

  Hopping off the desk, he patted his stomach. “Can’t. Stuffed with twenty-dollar eggs, remember? I’m going to go home and commit to watching the Broncos and obsessively checking my fantasy football webpage.”

  I laughed. “See? You obviously have no problem with commitment when it comes to the right subject matter.”

  He smiled. Then, with his chin, he nodded toward the group. “You did good. They look like they’re having fun.”

  I resisted the urge to tuck my hair behind my ear. “It was your idea. I just executed it.”

  He was about to walk away but I had this sudden instinct to stop him so I reached for his hand. He glanced down at where we connected and then looked me in the eye.

  Gah, his eyes were so freaking beautifully blue.

  “I just wanted to say, I’m truly sorry your date didn’t work out. I know what’s like to want something and feel like it’s always out of reach.”

  He squeezed my hand. “Thanks, Joy.”

  I pulled my hand back and stuffed it in my lap. I told myself it was not tingling.

  It was totally NOT tingling.

  Shit, it was tingling!

  I did not want to have hand tingles for a guy who I knew could never be into me. Instead, I lifted it and gave him another wave. “See you tomorrow.”

  “Yeah. Enjoy the rest of your day,” he said and then headed out of the building and didn’t look back once.

 

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