Operation: Santa's Elf: 3 Sweet & Spicy Christmas Novellas (Operation: Holiday Cheer Book 1)

by Allyson Lindt

  She pulled away far too soon for his liking, intertwined her fingers, and rested her hands on the edge of the table. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I’m sure you’re a really nice guy, but I’m not sure why I’m here. I don’t usually do things like this.”

  He could do this. It was the kind of response he was prepared for. “Like have dinner?”

  A tiny laugh floated past her list. Easy and casual, despite her stiff posture. “With strangers. When no one else is really around.”

  He nodded at the hostess, and the waiter. “You know the place and the staff. Does that help?”

  “Apparently. I’m here, right?” She fiddled with her fork, first turning it over, then nudging it closer to the knife, before finally returning it its original position. “What about you? Do you do this a lot?”

  The honest answer would be yes, and for some reason, it took all of his willpower not to say exactly that. He knew better. It didn’t matter how much he hated deception, the smart response was never going to be, “Sure. I spend a large part of my life seeking out strangers who need a smile and doing what I can to help them. I love doing it, and it’s only fair I offer that in exchange for being brought back to life by some unknown force.” Yeah, that wasn’t such a great response.

  Besides, he didn’t want her to think she fell into the same category as anyone else. The waiter interrupted before he had a chance to think of an honest answer that wouldn’t give too much away.

  They placed their orders, and her eyes grew wide when he said he’d get the bill.

  The moment the waiter was out of earshot, she leaned in, voice low. “I can’t let you do that. I appreciate the offer, but I can pay for my own meal.”

  “I don’t question that. But…” How was he going to get her to open up? The answer flowed to his tongue before he could process the words. “When was the last time you let someone do something for you?”

  Her lips drew into a thin line, and she sat up straighter. Wow, that was a bad way to phrase that. He hadn’t meant to be accusatory. When she spoke, sadness lined her voice. “It’s not something that comes up a lot. Or ever, really.”

  With any new assignment, he was only given very basic information. If there were a tragedy in the person’s life for instance, or some other event that could trigger a negative response. But for the most part, knowing too much made the meeting less natural. There had been hardly anything about Ella, though. A few notes about being a top performer at work, that she was single, and living miles from her family.

  “It should be.” He risked reaching across the table and lightly grasping her fingertips. The same shock as before raced through him, accompanied by an irrational glee when she didn’t pull away. “You deserve to be spoiled. Let me do that.”

  “How do you know that?” she asked. “I might be a raging bitch.” She ducked her head. “Sorry.”

  “I’m good at reading people.” He traced his thumb over the back of her knuckles.

  This time bitterness slipped into her laugh. “Okay, sure. Then what do you read from me?”

  “You’re kind, you’re generous, and people take advantage of you too often.” That hadn’t been in her docket. But none of that was hard to guess after talking to her even for the short amount of time she’d been there. “And something’s got you down tonight.”

  She flipped her fork over a few more times, and a pause stretched between them. Finally she said, “Nothing I can’t handle.”

  There was that sadness again. Heavier this time. More obvious. It dragged up an instinct to protect her and beat back anything that caused her that kind of melancholy. “I’m not saying you can’t. But sometimes it helps to talk.”

  “No, it really doesn’t. Especially not to someone I don’t know.”

  “You’re not talking to the people you do know, right?” He prodded. “I promise I don’t make judgments. I’m offering a sympathetic ear, with no expectations.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip, gaze finally meeting his. The longing in her eyes stole his breath, and made his chest ache. When she spoke, her voice was low and raw. “It’s nothing big, really. I just get a little lonely this time of year. It’s not that I need someone to complete me, or anything like that. But sometimes going home to an empty apartment gets to be too much. Even my friends are telling me I need to get la—”

  Pink flooded her cheeks and she ducked her head. “Telling me I need to get out more. You know, do… stuff.”

  His brain latched onto the slip, and taunted him with it. The almost-confession triggered an avalanche of ideas in Josh’s head. Images of scooting her back on the hood of his car. Pushing between her legs. Tangling his fingers in that long hair and tugging hard.

  It took all of his restraint to keep his voice steady, despite the nagging ache growing below his waist. “I was serious when I said no judgments. I’m here to listen.” And volunteer to help you out if you’re interested. Wrong direction to let his thoughts wander.

  First of all, he’d never see her again after tonight. Cupids weren’t new best friends, or dates, their job was to help cheer an assignment up. Second, it was one of the very basic rules. This kind of companionship sometimes led to a connection, which was why the cupid guidelines stated very clearly that sleeping with an assignment could cost a person their second chance.

  She peeked up at him again. “Why?”

  He backpedaled through the mire of lust, searching for root for her question. “Why would I listen?”

  She nodded.

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Chapter Three

  Ella sipped her drink, wincing when the straw gurgled indicating she was out of soda. She’d managed to make the glass last for the last two hours. Every time the waiter offered her a refill, she’d waved him off, telling herself any minute now she’d cut the conversation short with Josh, and they’d go their separate ways.

  She was having too much fun though. Talking openly wasn’t something she did, and it had been ages since she’d enjoyed a conversation so much. They clicked in a way she hadn’t realized existed.

  That and she swore every time things crossed the line into heavy innuendo, his pupils dilated, and he leaned in closer. Which was fine with her. Even if she couldn’t enjoy more than this meal with him, she was stockpiling a wide array of fantasies to keep her company over the next few nights.

  Images of what it would feel like to have those arms pin her down. To feel his mouth on hers, the rough scrape of five o’clock shadow on her skin. Dampness grew between her legs as she let her mind trip over the thoughts.

  “I was at a brand new company, right?” He was animated when he spoke. Arms moving, expression shifting with every word. They were swapping horror stories about jobs. “I’d been there less than two months, and didn’t know hardly anyone.”

  She rested her arms on the table, and leaned in. “I have a hard time believing you didn’t make friends with everyone your first day there.” The teasing rolled into her tone without thought.

  “Well it’s true.” He scooted his chair closer, until his knee brushed hers. “Anyway. Apparently every Christmas they did this gag gift exchange. Everyone pulled a name from the hat, got that person a gag gift, and we all had to open our presents in front of the entire company at the annual party.”

  His wit was turning her on as much as his body. Such a delicious combination. He continued. “I thought I’d be clever. I thought gag gift, and the first thing that came to mind was literal.” He paused, searching her face. “As in, a ball gag.”

  Delicious heat flooded her skin, and she laughed. “You didn’t.”

  “I absolutely did. And I promise you I knew everyone after that night. For the couple of years I was there, every Christmas around party time, people would talk about how ‘no one will ever top what Josh did.’”

  “I would have died of embarrassment.”

  “I’d get you something a little more subtle.” He winked. “A blindfold maybe.”

  Wetness
pooled between her legs at the suggestion, and her reply came out breathy. “I like the sound of that.” Was she really flirting openly with this guy? She couldn’t believe her own boldness.

  A question popped into her head, not for the first time that night. She almost didn’t want to ask, afraid she might actually get an answer this time, but curiosity won out. “You changed the subject every time I’ve asked you this. Do you do this often? Invite random strangers to dinner just to let them bend your ear?”

  She didn’t know why she kept pushing the issue. She should accept she was special and leave it at that.

  His gaze dropped to the table for a moment before be looked at her again. “Honestly?”

  That wasn’t what he was supposed to say. He was supposed to come back with a rapid fire, Yes, you’re the only one. “Yes. Honestly.”

  “Yes and no.”

  Not the answer she’d been hoping for, and it definitely didn’t clear anything up. Her gut sank with heavy disappointment. “Could you be more specific?”

  He drummed his fingers on the table. The first time all night she’d seen him fidget. Ill-ease filled her. What was so difficult to answer about this one question?

  His exhale echoed through the empty restaurant. “I’ll tell you but you won’t believe me.”

  “Try me.” She couldn’t keep the edge from her voice.

  He reached for her hand, then pulled his away before he made contact. His voice was heavy and tight when he replied. “I don’t— ” He snapped his jaw shut, and exhaled through his nose. “Twenty years ago I died.”

  Not what she’d expected. In fact, that instant the night went from strange-but-dreamy to downright bizarre. “As in, before you were ten?”

  “No, I was the same age I was now.” If he was joking, it didn’t show on his face. In fact, the only thing she could read in his eyes was… Hope? Pleading? She wasn’t even sure.

  “Okay. You’re a vampire?” Her good mood had evaporated and tension flooded in to take its place. At least they weren’t alone here. This was seriously weirding her out.

  “A cupid, actually. I died before my time. I was brought back to life, and until I find the life I was supposed to have, I have a kind of temporary stay on aging, and I spend that time making people happy.”

  A nervous giggle slipped out. He had to be yanking her chain. This time she had to force the teasing into her question “You’re joking, right? I mean, cupid. Really? Shouldn’t you at least be an elf, given the time of year?”

  He grinned, and leaned back in his chair. “I guess elf would make more sense. I’m completely joking.” And there was no way that was sadness tugging down the corners of his eyes. “Sorry, I’ve got a bad sense of humor sometimes. The truth is, in the parking lot I thought you dropped your glove, and all I meant to do was return it to you. You looked a little sad, I wasn’t looking forward to spending the night alone and I was hoping you might keep me company.”

  Relief flowed through her. That was a simple enough explanation. A teeny voice in the back of her head told her she was missing something. She wasn’t paying attention to the right things. She shoved it aside. He was here for the same reason she was. A little bit of company on a night when most people were spending time with their loved ones. “I’m glad you asked.”

  “Me too.” He scooted back, and disappointment flooded her. Of course the night had to end sometime. Had she ruined the moment with her distrust? No, he seemed to be having as much fun as she was.

  He stood and offered her a hand. “I think they’re waiting on us to close.” Heat seared through her when her fingers brushed his, and he tugged her to her feet.

  “I guess I should get home, and let you do the same.” A nagging ache grew in her chest.

  He was silent as they walked toward the exit, but never dropped her hand. Had he heard her? What was going through his head? They pushed out into the parking lot. Her hatchback and a battered old Impala were the only two cars left in the front lot.

  “You’re lucky you get to work up here.” His footsteps slowed as they neared the cars.

  She matched his pace, not in a hurry to head home to her empty apartment alone. “I guess.”

  He intertwined his fingers with hers and tugged her toward the edge of the parking lot. Heat and desire seared her senses. This wasn’t the same physical response she had to Ashton’s meaningless flirting. She swore something flowed between her and Josh.

  He gestured to the valley below. “You work up here in the foothills. The view at night has always been one of my favorites.”

  She stepped up next to him, and followed his sweeping gesture. They were looking down over the valley, and a million lights twinkled back at them. Every color sparkling like Christmas. How had she never noticed that before? Awe swelled inside. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “It’s one of my favorite sights.” His voice dropped an octave. “But it’s never looked as good as right now.”

  She turned to ask him what he meant. Her question died in her throat when she realized he was staring at her, not the view.

  He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. “I know, this is only for tonight, and we’ll probably never see each other again, but I really enjoyed getting to know you.”

  Something in his voice stopped her from asking how he could be certain this was it for them. There was no reason they couldn’t exchange numbers. He obviously had some reason to be near her office, and he was more familiar with the valley view than she was, so he was probably local or knew someone who was.

  She swallowed the question as an irrational fear welled inside her. One that told her if she asked, she might find out exactly how true his statement was, and she wouldn’t like the answer. Instead she said, “I had a lot of fun too.”

  He moved his hand to the back of her neck, and wove his fingers into her hair. Her pulse kicked into overdrive at the gentle contact. When he tilted his head in and kissed her softly, she swore her heart was about to beat its way out of her chest.

  She parted her lips, and his tongue drove in. The kiss went from soft to hungry in instant. She rested her fingers on his chest, fingers digging into muscle, and groaned against his mouth.

  When they finally split apart, her head swam, threatening to float away.

  He traced a thumb over her cheek. “Thank you for the evening, Ella. I’m sorry it has to end.”

  “Why?” She shouldn’t ask, part of her knew that. As soon as the question passed her lips, she wanted to take it back.

  “Because.” He put several inches between them, leaving a longing ache everywhere he’d touched. “I should let you get home.”

  Her chest deflated with hurt and disappointment. It wasn’t an answer, and as much as she wanted one, she wasn’t sure she’d believe whatever he told her. Still, she wasn’t willing to let this connection slip away. She fumbled in her purse for a business card. He already knew where she worked, it wasn’t like she was giving him any home information.

  He held up his hands. “I can’t.”

  Hurt welled inside, and she smothered it with irritation. “I’m not asking you for the rest of your life, or even the next month. Just offering company if you feel like it again.” She held the card toward him. Why was she being so pushy? Still, something inside sparked with hope when he took the card and tucked it into his shirt pocket.

  He closed the distance between them again, and traced a thumb over her bottom lip. “I can promise, I’ll feel like it again. If you don’t believe anything else I said tonight, believe that.” He brushed his lips over hers.

  She hated the finality in his statement, and the deep regret inside telling her she’d never see this man again.

  * * * *

  Ella stared at the ceiling in her bedroom, thoughts a jumbled mess. Last time she’d looked at the clock, it read eight am.

  She’d replayed the entire evening in her mind over and over since she and Josh parted ways. On her drive home. In between fitful bouts of sleep. She still couldn�
�t make sense of any of the situation.

  Even worse, the empty ache in her chest missed him terribly. How was that even possible with someone she’d only known a few hours?

  Her work phone chimed and she rolled her eyes. She should be bitter that she was actually being called in on Christmas, but it wasn’t like she had other plans. She grabbed the device and pulled up the new email.

  Her heart leaped at the message in her inbox. A greeting card website return address. She pushed the hope back down. It wasn’t as if it was from him. It would be a standard greeting from a colleague. Something they’d scheduled to send out to everyone in the office first thing in the morning. The logic didn’t stop her from hoping to see Josh’s name on the card when she opened the message.

  The image on the front was pleasant, but generic. A couple of baubles nestled in green garland and surrounded by lights.

  But the note underneath made her heart soar.

  I wasn’t going to email you. We’re not supposed to ever see each other again. But in a week, if you’re still interested in knowing why I sought you out, spend New Year’s Eve with me. If you’ve forgotten me by then, I’ll understand.

  Either way, I’ll always remember last night.

  Josh

  Underneath his name was an address, a restaurant name, and a time.

  She sank back onto her bed, butterflies and sparks dancing through her veins. He wanted to see her again. She wasn’t the only one who’d felt at least a little spark.

  Hitting reply, she swiped out a quick message. Scanning it, she read, deleted, and retyped it several times before finally deciding on a simple,

  New Year’s Eve sounds wonderful. I’ll see you then.

  Ella

  There, that didn’t sound too needy, but still sounded genuine, right? Her smile grew. It had been eons since she felt like this about someone, and she’d only spent a few hours with him.

  Her email chimed seconds later. Had he already replied? Disappointment and confusion pushed aside some of her elation. The message had bounced back as undeliverable.