The Christmas Wedding Swap

by Allyson Charles

  “The Pantry’s three blocks up. We’ll go there.” The soft wail of a siren sounded faintly in the distance. Allison looked behind her. “I don’t know how I feel about bringing someone else’s cooking into my restaurant, but…”

  A second siren joined the first. Flashing lights flickered at the end of Main Street. Two fire engines screamed past, turning down the street a block ahead of Allison and Luke. “Do you smell smoke?” She sniffed. “I think it’s close.”

  They hurried to the corner and peered down the street as the engines pulled to a stop several blocks up. “That’s right near my cabin.” The plastic bag of food bounced off Luke’s leg as he strode toward the commotion. The glow of flames threw distorted shadows on the surrounding buildings, and the smell of burning wood grew thick. “Shit! That is my cabin.”

  A police cruiser screeched to a stop behind the fire trucks. Officer Jerome Davis jumped out of the car. He saw Allison and Luke, and threw up a hand. “I’m going to have to ask you guys to wait on the other side of the street and down a bit. We need to give the firefighters room to do their job.”

  Lips pressed into a white slash, Luke nodded. Other guests of the motel joined them, one couple of early birds already in pajamas with thick coats thrown on over them. Curious neighbors formed a cluster.

  Allison stamped her feet, trying to fight the creeping numbness. The cold seeped into her bones, but she wasn’t about to leave. Her restaurant was only a couple of blocks away, and she couldn’t help but worry that the fire might spread.

  Finally, the orange glow died, and the firefighters turned off their hoses. One of the firemen broke away and joined Jerome in the street. He took off his helmet and ran a hand through his short hair. Jerome nodded at something he said, then jerked his head toward the crowd. The two of them made their way over.

  “Evening, everyone. I’m Assistant Fire Chief Chance McGovern. I want to give you a status update, and get you out of the cold.” He tucked his helmet under one arm. “Three of the cabins have been damaged and aren’t safe to sleep in. Those were cabins C, D, and F.”

  Luke dropped his head back and stared at the sky.

  Chance continued. “The station wagon parked in front of cabin D was severely burned and is, unfortunately, a total loss.”

  The woman in her pajamas rested her forehead on her husband’s shoulder.

  Chance shot them a sympathetic look. “But, most important, no one was hurt. We’ll have a report ready for anyone who needs it to file with your insurance companies sometime tomorrow. Hopefully, we’ll also have determined a cause of the fire by then, too.”

  The fireman turned, and Luke caught up to him halfway across the street. “I’m in cabin F. How bad is it?”

  “I’m sorry.” Chance slapped a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “That one was a total loss. I don’t think you’ll be able to save anything from it. But you’re welcome to dig through the area tomorrow when we open up access.”

  Luke nodded and thanked the man before rejoining Allison.

  Allison stood on her toes and gave Luke a hug. “I’m sorry. Did you have much in there?”

  He gave her a squeeze and stepped back. Rubbing his jaw, he shook his head. “I have my phone with me, and my bike’s still in the shop. Nothing else was important. Just my clothes and stuff.”

  The owner of the motel arrived, phone pressed to his ear. He spoke with Chance, then Jerome, and joined them on the sidewalk. “Okay, folks. I was talking to the manager of the other motel here in Pineville. They only have one room available.” He looked at a family huddled by the back of an engine. “Your kids have to get to bed soon. I’d suggest you take it. The rest of you”—he looked between Luke and the pajama couple—“there are a couple of motels in Clarion and back on the interstate. Sorry, guys, that’s the best I can do.”

  Allison stepped forward. “Until everyone finds a place to stay, my diner, The Pantry, will be open.” She smiled at the older couple. “There’s no dress code. And everything is on the house.”

  Jerome nodded. “Thanks, Allison. That’s nice of you.”

  She punched him on the shoulder. “The offer even includes you and the fire crew. Spread the word, will you?”

  He nodded, and Allison trotted back to Luke’s side.

  Luke pressed his hand to his eye socket. “I don’t suppose I could get a lift to one of those motels?”

  Tucking her arm through his, she led him away from the destruction. “Let’s go eat. Life always looks better on a full stomach.”

  * * * *

  News of the fire was all the talk at The Pantry. People Luke didn’t know came up to slap him on the back, offer their sympathies. Enough people promised him a beer at the Pins ’N’ Pints that he would drink free for the rest of the month.

  That kind of community was something he didn’t get in Chicago. And he had to admit, it was pretty damn nice.

  “Is it always like this?” he asked Allison and took a bite of veal parmesan. Not bad for small-town Italian, but Pineville could definitely use a fine-dining establishment.

  “What? People bothering you while you’re trying to eat just to say they’re sorry?” Allison glared at a man at the next table. The poor guy snapped his mouth shut, biting back whatever condolence he was about to offer, and turned back to his pork chop. Allison stabbed a meatball on her plate. “Yeah, pretty much. And people only get friendlier this time of year.”

  He laughed. “You don’t have to sound so gloomy about it. Isn’t that supposed to be a good thing? Small town living and all that sh—uh, stuff?”

  He dropped an apologetic smile on the elderly woman to his left. She pinched her lips and turned back to her companion. Shrugging, he took a sip of iced tea. He had changed his language.

  Allison ignored his question. “When is your motorcycle supposed to be fixed?”

  “Maybe this Friday. Probably later.”

  Twirling a forkful of spaghetti against her spoon, she nodded. She took the bite, sucking a stray noodle into her mouth. A splash of red sauce dotted her bottom lip. He stared at those lips and shifted in his seat. She had a great mouth, plump and wide, and watching her suck down noodle after noodle was messing with his head. Those lips he was fixated on moved, that little bit of sauce bobbing up and down, and Luke wanted nothing more than to lean over the table and clean it off with his tongue.

  “Well, what do you say?”

  He blinked. Dragging his gaze from her mouth, he met her big, brown eyes. “I’m sorry. What was that?”

  “I asked if you wanted to stay with me until you got your bike back.” She twirled more spaghetti, and another fleck of sauce went flying, landing on her white dress right above her left breast. “It will be hard for you to get to work if you’re staying in Clarion. If you want to bunk in my guest room, we could drive in together.”

  “You’d let me stay at your place?” Luke dipped his napkin in his glass of ice water and handed it over to her. “You have a spot, right, uh…” He pointed.

  “Crap.” She dabbed at her dress. Luke forced himself to look away from the lovely wet patch she created. She tossed the napkin on the table and picked up her fork. “As for staying at my place, why not?” Her cheeks flushed the barest shade of pink. “You don’t have to, of course. I just thought it’d be easier.”

  He placed his hand over hers and squeezed. “Thank you. I’d appreciate it. I was just surprised you’d make such a nice offer to a relative stranger.”

  Biting her lip, she stared at their hands. “You get to know someone pretty quick in the kitchen. I’m confident you won’t cut my head off while I sleep.” A smile danced in her eyes when they met his. “But just so you know, I sleep armed.”

  “Got it.” He leaned back in his chair. “So where do you live? Can we walk from here?”

  “Not quite. I’ll call Pete, our cab service. He can take us home and then, if
you want, we can head to Walmart to pick you up some clothes and toiletries.”

  Luke bit back a grimace. He’d donated money to an organization to stop that store from being built in his neighborhood. A picture of him shopping in one now had better not hit the internet.

  She tilted her head. “And I can see you don’t like that idea. Have a problem with Walmart, hot shot?”

  “I’m sure it’s fine.” He sniffed and took a sip of water. “I prefer to try to shop locally.”

  Head down, Allison texted someone. “And while I applaud that sentiment, not many local shops are open right now. If you want something to sleep in, a toothbrush, and all that good stuff, you’ll have to suck it up and enter the shopping mecca of the masses.” Text sent, she looked up and gave him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve only caught two contagious diseases from their clothing in the past year. Your chances of survival are good.”

  Not bothering to respond, he bussed their table, poking his head into the kitchen to make sure everything was under control. When he rejoined Allison, she had her coat and purse.

  “You ready?” she asked. “Pete’s out front.”

  Shrugging into his leather jacket, he followed her to the door. “That was fast.”

  “He was nearby.” She stepped onto the sidewalk and waved at a man across the street. “Hi, Pete.”

  The burly man across the way lifted a hand in greeting, an ugly brown hat with large ear flaps covering his head. Luke couldn’t condone the fashion statement but had to admit he was a bit jealous of the man’s undoubtedly warm ears. “Where’s his cab?”

  Laughing, she turned so she was walking backward across the empty street. “You’re looking at it.”

  He looked again. No cab. The man stood in front of a dark blue tow truck with red lettering on the side: Pete’s Towing. “Huh.” Allison was already hopping in the passenger side, laughing at something Pete said.

  Luke crossed the street and shook Pete’s hand. Nudging Allison to slide closer to the middle, he climbed in after her.

  Allison picked up a shopping bag in the middle seat and scooted over. Several other plastic bags formed a veritable wall between her and Pete in the driver’s seat.

  “Sorry,” the man said, grabbing a bag and shoving it down into the space between the front seat and the back of the cab. It was a tough squeeze. Numerous other bags jockeyed for position. “Just finished Christmas shopping for Marlene and the kids. Wasn’t expecting another call tonight.”

  “No problem, Pete.” Allison wedged a hand under her butt, tugging to free another bag. “My house isn’t far.”

  “It may not be far, but I still need to close the door.” Luke twisted onto one hip. Nope, his door still didn’t catch. Placing a palm under her thigh, he pushed, helping her cross the space.

  She slapped at his hand. “Hey, knock it off. Between the bags and the gear shift, I’m as far as I’m going to go.”

  “But I’m still not in all the way.”

  She shifted and wriggled, shoving her chest way too close to Pete for Luke’s liking. She sagged into her seat. “Well, this is as far as I’m going to get, so suck it in and close the door already. It’s cold out.” She turned a heater vent toward her and rubbed her hands in front of it, getting comfortable.

  Luke narrowed his eyes. He slid his hand under her leg, a bit higher this time, got a firm grip, and lifted while he slid fully into his seat. He plopped Allison onto his lap, ignored her “hell no,” and slammed his door shut.

  “Okay, Pete,” he said, “we’re good to go.”

  Allison contorted her body, trying to work her way off. Her bottom ground into some very appreciative bits, and Luke gritted his teeth. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tried to hold her still.

  She growled. “No, we’re not good to go. Let me off.”

  Pete watched the struggle. He pulled a pack of gum from his cup holder and unwrapped a piece, popping it into his mouth. “Gum?” He held out the pack.

  Allison stopped wriggling for a moment, thank God, to glare at the driver. “No, I don’t want gum. I want my own spot.”

  Pete flipped on his blinker and pulled into the street. “Like you said, it’s not far to your house. This seems like the only way you’ll both fit.” He adjusted the heater. “Sorry about the fire, Luke. Hope you didn’t lose too much in it.”

  Allison made one more escape attempt, digging her palm into his thigh and pushing off. Luke winced. Finally realizing she had nowhere to go, she slumped onto his lap with a scowl.

  A mess of blond curls tickled his nose. The scents of cinnamon rolls and, he took another breath, a hint of pumpkin pie tantalized him. She smelled like home, like walking into his house after school and knowing a treat was waiting in the kitchen. That’s what Allison wanted, a houseful of kids coming home to her, and for the first time since he’d met the sassy woman, he could see her in that role.

  She would make some man very happy, a man who was looking for family and security, as well. He hoped Allison found him. But until she did, Luke was more than happy to give her what she needed in the short term.

  Luke pulled her a little closer. He could spend all day with his nose in her hair and his hands holding tight to her curves.

  A bubble popped loudly in the silence. Pete looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and Luke realized he was waiting for a response. Shit, had the man seen him sniffing at Allison like a dog in heat?

  He cleared his throat. “No, didn’t lose anything of importance. Just some clothes.”

  Pete nodded.

  Allison shifted, her knee knocking into a bag. Luke grabbed it before it fell into the driver’s well. He placed it on Allison’s lap and tucked her knee higher on the seat. Her skin scalded him through her thin tights, and he ached to skim his hand up the silky heat, beneath her dress, to see if she was a stockings or pantyhose kind of girl.

  “Jesus, Pete, you buy out every store in Pineville?” she asked.

  “Nah.” He popped another bubble. “Just half of them. The kids have been very good this year, and they’re expecting Santa to keep up his end of the deal.”

  “How many kids do you have?” Luke asked.

  “Five.”

  Luke stared in open-mouthed horror down at Allison. She shrugged. “He and Marlene were planning on stopping at four, but Natalie and Stephanie were twins.”

  Luke looked back at Pete, ready to console him, but the tow truck driver couldn’t look prouder. His big family obviously made him happy. Luke settled back into the seat. A couple of his friends and colleagues had kids, but most of them stopped at one, two if they wanted their child to have a sibling. It was what was expected. If you got married and wanted to procreate, you had the environmentally and fiscally responsible family of three.

  He knew his friends loved their children. But he didn’t think they enjoyed them so much they’d want to have five.

  Five. Pete and his wife had created their own basketball team. Luke grinned.

  “Did you hear who’s decorating the tree this year?” Pete asked Allison.

  She shook her head.

  “Mr. Jones and Billy Smith. Can you believe it?”

  “They’re going to kill each other.” Allison smirked, looking like she couldn’t wait to watch the murder.

  “Why? And what tree?” When had Pineville, Michigan, become interesting?

  “Every year we have an annual tree-lighting ceremony. The tree goes up next week,” she explained, “and local citizens decorate it.”

  “It used to be the Tree Twins always did it”—Pete made the sign of the cross—“but they’re still banned.”

  “So what’s wrong with this Mr. Smith and Billy?” Luke idly rubbed Allison’s leg, his fingertips disappearing and reappearing from under her dress’s hem. The cab of the truck was heating up, and he shut one of the vents blowing hot a
ir.

  “Mr. Jones and Billy are just two very different people. Billy is a cop with the Pineville PD and thinks being called anal retentive is a compliment. If you ever go into Mr. Jones’s clock shop on Second, well, you’ll see that he isn’t what you’d call orderly.”

  “It’s a disaster waiting to happen,” Pete said with glee.

  Allison cocked her head, a strand of platinum hair grazing Luke’s lip. “They probably won’t throw things at each other like Colt and Sadie did last year, but it should still be entertaining. And The Pantry has a front-row seat across from the town square.”

  Pete pulled into the driveway of a small, two-story home, his headlights illuminating a wraparound porch with a two-person swing hanging in the corner. Allison popped open the passenger door, her soft curves becoming all hard elbows and sharp knees as she maneuvered herself off and over him.

  “Here let me—” He grabbed something soft, not what he’d intended but altogether too delicious to let go.

  She slid over him and landed outside the truck on her boots. She tugged at the hem of her dress. “I’ve got it,” she huffed. Disgruntled Allison was every bit as sexy as take-charge Allison, which was vying for first against pink-cheeked-with-embarrassment Allison. She was as multifaceted as a Rubik’s Cube, and Luke liked turning her every which way.

  Stepping out of the truck, he adjusted his jeans and took a good look at her house. The clapboard was of sturdy construction and didn’t offer any architectural frills. But the porch lights showed a tidy home painted in a cheery color. It was welcoming, and cute, and looked like it could weather a storm. The house suited Allison perfectly.

  She handed Pete some bills and waved as he drove off. She strode to her own car.

  Luke cupped her elbow, halting her progress. “Wait, I’ll pay for the ride. How much was it?”

  She waved him away and opened the driver’s door. “Don’t worry about it. If you want, I can take half of it out of your week’s pay. Now hop in.” She nodded across to the passenger side and slipped behind the wheel.