Christmas Cowboy

by Claire Adams

Then again, maybe I was. That wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it? And it wasn't like I was going to be in Hawaii forever. If things went south, I would never have to see her again.

  I nodded a little to myself. Tomorrow, after my massage, I'd ask her to go to dinner with me. And hey, maybe she'd surprise me and let me take her home with me after just the first date.

  I tapped Mark on the shoulder and jerked my head toward the door. He followed me over. “You're leaving already?” he asked when we could hear one another again.

  “Yeah, I think so,” I said, shrugging a little. “This has been a ton of fun, but I'm just not feeling it tonight. Maybe I'm still a bit jetlagged or something. I don't know. Anyway, I'm going to walk home. I'll see you tomorrow, though.”

  “Hey man, it's okay that you're not taking anyone home with you,” Mark said, slugging me lightly in the arm.

  I frowned at him. “I know that,” I said. It was none of his business anyway.

  “Well, have a good night,” Mark said, shrugging a little. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

  Chapter Ten

  Gretchen

  I smiled to myself as Mina came into the shop again the following morning. “Are you planning on making this a daily occurrence?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at her.

  “Are you complaining?” Mina asked, holding out a cup of coffee to me. “I brought muffins. Not pineapple ones, either.”

  I laughed and gratefully accepted the coffee. “No, definitely not complaining,” I told her. “It's good to see you, anyway. What's up?”

  Just then, the phone rang, and I grimaced, gestured for her to wait a moment, and answered it.

  “Hi, this is Cindy from the Golden Palm Resort again,” she said. “Christian was apparently very impressed with your session yesterday.”

  “Oh,” I said, blinking. Then I frowned, wondering if she was calling just to tell me that. Christian had already basically told me as much himself, not that I wouldn't have been able to figure it out, either. “Well, I'm glad to hear that.”

  “In fact, he was so impressed by it that he'd like to make another appointment with you. For today.”

  I couldn't help laughing. “Okay,” I said. “I'm actually booked up for the afternoon, but if he can get here for 10 o'clock, I can fit him in then. Otherwise, it's going to have to be tomorrow.”

  “Let me put you on hold for a moment and ring his room to see,” Cindy said.

  “Sure thing.” I waited for Cindy to come back on the line.

  “Who is it?” Mina hissed.

  I shook my head and motioned for her to wait again, taking a bite of my muffin.

  “Are you still there, Gretchen?”

  “Yup,” I said.

  “Excellent. Christian says he can be there by 10, so pencil him in for that.”

  “Will do, thanks!”

  I hung up the phone and rolled my eyes at Mina's excited look. “It's just a work call,” I told her, even though I was pretty giddy about the thought of working my hands over Christian's body another time.

  “You never look that happy about a work call,” Mina accused.

  I sighed. “I had this super handsome guy come in yesterday,” I told her.

  She practically squealed with excitement. “That's great!” she said. “What was his name? Did you get his number?”

  I shook my head. “Mina, I'm not about to date one of my clients,” I said. “Especially since he apparently wants to become a repeat client. And anyway, even if he weren't my client, he's from New York. He's here on vacation, and then he's going to leave again. I wouldn't want to get involved with someone who was about to leave; you know that.”

  “I'm not saying you have to start a relationship with the guy,” Mina said, rolling her eyes. “But you could at least sleep with him.”

  “His ego's too big for that,” I said. “He was a nice guy once we got talking, but I think he thought I was going to give him a happy-ending massage when he first walked in. What kind of a place does he think this is?”

  Mina groaned. “Gretchen. If some uber-hot guy wants you to touch his dick, why can't you just go along with it for once?” she asked in exasperation. “Where's the harm in that? Live a little.”

  “I'm not that kind of girl,” I said, shrugging. “And this definitely isn't that kind of massage parlor.”

  “He's coming in at ten, though?” Mina asked, looking at her watch. “That's in just ten minutes. Do you think I could hang around and see him?”

  “Fine,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But you don't get to say anything. You see him, and then you go sell some more pineapples, okay?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Mina said, shaking her head.

  We were just finishing up breakfast when Christian walked in, looking just as yummy as he had the previous day. “Good morning,” he said, smiling at both of us.

  “Good morning,” I said. I glanced over at Mina, who was just staring at Christian, and I couldn't help grinning a little. Yeah, the man was gorgeous; I guessed Mina could see that as well. It wasn't usual for her to find herself speechless, but hey.

  “This is my friend Mina,” I said, nudging Mina forward.

  Mina giggled a little and shook his hand. “It's nice to meet you,” she said.

  “And you,” Christian said, giving her his full, most charming smile. God, she had to be practically melting. I know I was, and I wasn't even the one directly receiving that smile. “So, same room as yesterday?” Christian asked.

  “Same as yesterday,” I confirmed. “Thanks for breakfast, Mina, and have a great day.”

  “You too,” she said, still sounding a bit faint. I shrugged a little and got ready for the massage.

  “Your friend is cute,” Christian commented as I started the massage. “A bit shy, maybe, but cute.”

  I snorted. “Mina? Shy? No way! I'm not entirely sure what's gotten into her.” Except that you're practically a Greek god walking into my massage parlor.

  “How long have you known one another?”

  “She's been my best friend for ages, since we were kids,” I told him. “And we're lucky enough to work next door to one another. She runs the pineapple shop next door. I get to see her all the time. More so lately. I think she must have been feeling that we weren't seeing enough of one another because she's been over here two days in a row now with breakfast for me!”

  “Or she thinks you don't know how to take care of yourself, maybe,” Christian said, smirking up at me.

  I laughed. “That could be, too,” I agreed. “I probably have a better grasp on that than she does, though, if I'm being honest. She's a brilliant woman and very creative, but she's a bit flighty, I guess.”

  “I work in the same office as my best friend,” Christian told me. “His name's Paul. He's a great guy. No matter what I do, he's there for me.”

  “Well, yeah,” I said. “That's what friendship is, right?”

  “I guess so,” Christian said, sounding as though he was considering it.

  “Mina and I would do anything for one another,” I told him. “And I tell her everything, and she tells me everything as well. I probably know her better than I know myself. She's like a sister. The sister I would have chosen.”

  Christian smiled a little. “Do you have any siblings?”

  “Oh no,” I said. “I'm an only child. My parents decided I was too headstrong when I was a toddler, and they knew they were already going to be chasing me around for my whole life. They decided that one was enough.”

  Christian laughed. “Are they still chasing you around?”

  “I've settled down more now. But I'm close enough that they could pop by at any time if they wanted to. And I go over there for dinner a lot.”

  “That's nice.” Christian sounded like he was drifting off again already, but whether he was falling asleep or falling into his thoughts, I couldn't tell.

  “What about you, do you have any siblings?” I asked, wanting to prolong the conversation.

  “I did,” Chri
stian told me. “Next subject?”

  I cast around for another conversation topic, but his unwillingness to talk about his family had me wanting to know more. “What are you going to get up to this afternoon?” I asked.

  Christian came back into the conversation at that, and I realized he had just been caught up in his thoughts. There was something there, I guessed, and I wondered what it was. But I wasn't going to ask.

  “So, have you always wanted to be a masseuse?” Christian asked as I worked my way up his arm.

  I shook my head. “Not exactly,” I said. “I wasn't sure what I wanted to be, growing up. I just knew that I wanted to live here in Hawaii forever. I thought about being a yoga teacher for a while too, but I didn't like the idea of working for someone else's studio, and it's hard to get your own clients if you just strike out on your own. Mina's the one who pointed me toward being a masseuse. I don't know how she came up with the idea, but I liked it immediately, went to school for it, and here I am.”

  “You must have a background in business as well, to run your own.”

  “No,” I said. “I know the basics. I took a night course for entrepreneurs. But I don't know all that much.” I laughed a little self-consciously. “Whatever I'm doing, though, it seems to be working.”

  I let my fingers linger on Christian's skin for a moment, reluctant to pull away again. “I'm afraid that's all we have time for again,” I told him.

  “That went fast today,” he said, sitting up and rolling out his shoulders.

  “It did,” I agreed. “I like talking to you.” I blushed after I said it, hardly believing that those words had come out of my mouth. Not that they weren't true, but he would probably take that as an invitation to–

  “So maybe we should talk some more over dinner on Saturday night,” Christian suggested.

  –ask me out.

  I sighed and began tidying the room. “I don't date clients,” I told him. If only it were that simple.

  “Well then, I'll never come back for another massage,” Christian told me, a devilish grin on his face.

  I frowned. “I also don't date people who don't live here,” I told him.

  “Do you ever even date?” Christian asked, and I gaped at him.

  “You can't just-”

  “I'll take that as a no,” he interrupted. “Come on. It'll be fun. I'm just asking because I'd like to have some company for dinner. I'm not just trying to have sex with you or anything like that.”

  “Not to be mean, but I don't believe you.” I sighed.

  Christian frowned and pulled on his shorts. “Look, I may not be the best guy that you've ever met, but you must realize that I would never do anything that you didn't want me to do to you.”

  “I know.” I sighed again. “But…”

  “You're afraid you're going to want me to have sex with you?” Christian asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “And that's a bad thing?”

  When he put it that way, it did sound a little ridiculous.

  “I don't do one-night stands,” I told him.

  “Then we'll make it a two-night stand,” he said. “Or a three-night stand. Or-”

  “All right, all right,” I said, holding up both hands in surrender. “I'll go. Leave me a message here and tell me when and where.”

  “Good,” Christian said smugly. Then, he turned and sauntered out the door.

  He had only been gone for a couple of moments when Mina burst in. She must have been lurking by the windows, watching to see him leave. “Do you realize who that is?” she exclaimed in a hushed tone, as though he might overhear us.

  I shrugged a little and went to check the messages on my phone.

  “That's Christian Wall!” she exclaimed.

  “Yeah, I know,” I said, not sure what the big deal was. “You realize I take their full names down when I book the appointments, don't you?”

  “Jesus, you live under a rock, don't you?” she asked, rolling her eyes. She thrust her phone toward me, open to a news story about him.

  “Holy shit,” I said, grabbing the phone from her. “You don't think it's him, do you?”

  “I told you a millionaire was going to walk through those doors one day,” Mina said. “Only he's a billionaire. You got his number, right?”

  I paused and stared down at the phone for a long moment, hardly able to believe any of this. “Actually,” I said, looking seriously up at Mina. “I've got one better than that. He's picking me up here for a date on Saturday. He's taking me to dinner.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Christian

  When it came down to it, I didn't date that many girls. There wasn't a reason to; after all, most girls practically threw themselves at me. The closest I came to dating anyone was meeting someone at a bar and buying a couple of paltry drinks for her. We all knew where the night was going to end, though; that was never a question.

  For some reason, things felt different with Gretchen.

  I called up Mark a few hours before the date. “I need to get a suit tailored,” I told him.

  “Oh,” Mark said, sounding a bit flustered. “I know a good place that I can take you to.”

  “Good,” I said. “Meet me here in twenty minutes.”

  When Mark pulled up in front of my hotel, I was already impatiently waiting outside, even though he got there a few minutes early. “What do you need a suit for anyway, man?” Mark asked as we drove.

  I shrugged. “I'm going on that date tonight; remember, I told you about it?” Actually, I'd asked him for recommendations about where to take Gretchen to. He'd been a bit taken aback by that, especially when I'd shot down his first recommendations, which were for a couple cheaper, less formal places.

  I supposed it didn't fit with his image of me for me to take a girl to a nice restaurant. All the media ever focused on were the clubs that I walked out of and things like that. It wasn't like I didn't have the money to splash out if I wanted to, though. And anyway, I wasn't always such a player. And I had a feeling Gretchen might appreciate going someplace nicer.

  “And, what, you didn't bring anything nice with you?” Mark asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically.

  I shrugged. “I did.” God, I would sound like such a girl if I admitted that none of it seemed quite right. I was going to look sexy no matter what I wore. But I didn't want to wear a charcoal gray suit next to Gretchen, as tan as she was. It just wouldn't look right. Blue, on the other hand, might.

  I searched through the racks at the shop that Mark brought me to, fingering the material, pleased to find that it fit my standards pretty well. Of course, the material was all a lot thinner than what I'd find back home, but that only made sense given the heat in Hawaii. I didn't want to wear something thick and coarse in 80-degree heat; that would be crazy. It got a little cooler at night, but not that much cooler.

  “This is the one,” I said, pulling a navy-colored suit off the rack. “Just need to get it fitted.” I glanced over at Mark. “You might as well pick something out too,” I told him. “My treat. You've been great while I've been here, above and beyond what I would expect from a cab driver.”

  Mark raised an eyebrow at me. “Who are you dating tonight: Gretchen or me?” he asked teasingly.

  I rolled my eyes. “I don't go that way,” I told him.

  I stood still as the seamstress measured me and made some sketches in chalk on the suit. I frowned when I saw Mark was looking at plain black suits, though. “Come on,” I told him. “Unless you have a fucking funeral coming up, when are you ever going to wear a black suit?”

  Mark looked over at me, seemingly startled. Poor kid didn't know anything about fashion. I couldn't help rolling my eyes again. “No one wears black suits anymore, man,” I told him. “Grey, or blue, or you're a surfer, you could probably pull off coral jacket even if you wanted to. Just don't go with black, of all things.”

  Mark laughed a little, shaking his head ruefully. Then, he bowed ironically. “I defer to your judgment,” he said. Then, he fro
wned. “But coral pink, man? Seriously?”

  I shrugged, much to the dismay of the seamstress. “I mean, probably.”

  “What about tan?” Mark asked.

  “Boring,” I said, not even having to think about it.

  “You don't know the women around here, though,” Mark said.

  “And what, you do?” I asked, scoffing a little. It was a tease, but I could see from the expression on Mark's face that he didn't appreciate it.

  “Rude, man,” he said.

  “Sorry,” I said, only partly sincere. “But seriously, what do I need to know about the women here? Women are women no matter where you are, right?”

  “Oh no,” Mark said, shaking his head. “Your New York women are impatient. The New York women who come down here book up their days with massages and beach appointments and they drink all day. It's just not anywhere near the same. Our women here, they're sweet. They're soft.” He paused. “I don't want to tell you this because you're Christian Wall, of course, but know that Gretchen isn’t going to fall into bed with you tonight. That just will not happen.”

  I frowned over at him. “Yeah?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Mark said, sounding a bit more confident as he saw that I was listening to him. “You can take her to a nice place and everything, and girls like that, they respond well to money. You're going to have no problem impressing her and whatever. But don't expect that to automatically get her into your bed.”

  “So, how do you get a sexy Hawaiian girl into your bed?” I asked, even though honestly, I didn't think I needed his advice on the matter.

  Mark shrugged, though, looking glad that I'd asked for his opinion. “The thing to remember is that no matter how hot you think Gretchen is, she's just another woman at heart,” he said. “Sure, she's just like other women here, she's independent, and she'll want you to remember that. And she's probably got a stubborn streak. But at the end of the day, the thing to remember is that she isn't so different from other women.”

  I laughed. “You sound cynical, Mark,” I observed.

  He shrugged eloquently. “I am cynical,” he said, giving me a knowing look.