All He Wants For Christmas

by Elisabeth Naughton, Alexandra Ivy, Cynthia Eden, Katie Reus, Laura Wright, Skye Jordan

  Lily exhaled. “You are exasperating.”

  “I’m aware.”

  “Yes, I do think it’s worth the time. There are a lot of DIY videos out there, but few are professional. If you do it right, handle your links and sponsorships right, build a following, you could eventually make a significant income.”

  Relief loosened Faith’s shoulders, and she turned her brightest smile on Lily. “So you’ll show me the ropes?”

  “I’ll make you a deal. You give the next guy who comes up to you a chance, and I’ll get you started.”

  Faith’s expression fell, and she matched Lily’s scowl. “That’s blackmail. Friends don’t blackmail friends.”

  “Excuse me, Miss Nicholas.”

  The man’s voice rolled over her from her opposite side. Deep, slow, confident. Sexy. Without acknowledging the man, she narrowed her eyes on Lily. “Did you set this up?”

  “Nope.” She widened her eyes a fraction and tipped her head slightly, a gesture Faith read as take a look.

  Frustration burned. She wasn’t going to let her best friend blackmail her into a fling when that kind of relationship wasn’t in her genetic makeup. She was a grown woman, dammit, and she could handle her own relationships—or lack thereof.

  She turned to the man and only glanced at him long enough to realize she didn’t know him. He had his forearms pressed to the bar, wore a baseball hat pulled low on his head, and sported a few days of scruff. “I’m buying my own drinks tonight, and I’m not interested in going out, but thanks anyway.”

  Faith swiveled toward Lily with guilt seeping in. She was clearly overwhelmed by the stress of the past year and the upcoming holiday if she could be so rude to a stranger on the spur of the moment.

  She opened her mouth to tell Lily she was going home, but the man—still beside her—spoke first.

  “Actually, I wasn’t going to offer you a drink or ask for a date. But thanks for saving me the trouble—in the event either of those ever crossed my mind.”

  Faith swiveled again, this time meeting the man’s gaze squarely. No, she hadn’t been mistaken. She didn’t know him. Though getting to know him had nice ideas stirring in her head. He was still leaning on the bar, his head turned toward her, but now a smirk twisted his mouth, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. Very pretty light-colored eyes. His hat bore the New York Mets logo, and dark hair snuck out from under the edges.

  The hat brought his voice to mind again, and the bizarre accent she’d never heard before—a little Carolina, a little…Jersey? Boston? Wisconsin?

  “Just a heads-up, handsome. If you decide to ask any woman out around here, you’d better ditch the hat. Because no self-respecting Carolina girl dates a Mets fan.”

  His smirk widened into a grin. The way his features were put together made him…compelling. Appealing. Definitely attractive, if not drop-dead gorgeous. But it was the mischievous spark in his eyes that warmed the pit of Faith’s stomach.

  “That so?” he asked.

  “That’s so.”

  “Who would a self-respecting Carolina girl date?”

  “Atlanta Braves fan, of course. Ask anyone.”

  His gaze darted past Faith to Lily. “That right? Are you a Brave’s fan?”

  “Hell yes.”

  “Duly noted.” He nodded and returned those interesting eyes to Faith. “Miss Nicholas, if I promise not to wear my Mets hat in your presence again, would you tell me how I can find the woman running your father’s hardware store?”

  She lifted one brow. No one called it her father’s store anymore. “Can I ask why?”

  He laughed and turned his gaze to the bar. “See, my mama sent me to pick up our family Christmas tree, and I was at the hardware store ten minutes before close, but it was already shut down tight. We’ve got a tradition, a big dinner where all the kids and grandkids and nieces and nephews and cousins all get together and decorate the tree. And, I tell you, if I go home without it…” He sucked air between his teeth with a shake of his head. “I’m as good as skinned.”

  “Aw,” Lily said behind Faith. “How sweet.”

  Faith grinned at Lily’s naivety. “You can certainly spin a tale that pulls on the heartstrings, but you’ve run into someone who works with men all day, every day. Which means I can see right through bullshit.

  “Everything you said after picking up your family Christmas tree was a big fat lie. You weren’t there ten minutes early, and there’s no family get-together tonight. But the part about getting skinned might be true; otherwise, I doubt a city boy like you would be wasting your time chasing down some country bumpkin to get a Christmas tree.”

  His brow fell. Smile faded into an irritated smirk.

  Faith picked up her punch, finished the drink, then licked the last bit of sugar from the rim before meeting his gaze again. “Now, why don’t you start again, and try the truth this time.”

  He repositioned himself at the bar, facing her. “Okay. My mom looked at the kitchen clock, realized it was five minutes till six, and rushed me out the door to get the tree before the store closed. And even though I did get there a few minutes before six, the store was locked up tight, so it did closed early. And yes, the skinning part was true, which means one of two things for me.”

  He was entertaining, so she indulged him. “I’m listening.”

  “One—you tell me how to get ahold of the girl who works the shop so I can try to sweet-talk her into opening to give me my tree, or two…” He heaved a sigh. “I pull a saw from my daddy’s garage, hike into the wilderness in the dark, and cut one down.”

  Faith broke into absurd laughter. “You’re that afraid of your mama?”

  He winced. “I’m that afraid of my mama.”

  Lily kicked Faith’s stool, jolting her. When she cut a glare over her shoulder, Lily mouthed, Go.

  But Faith faced Hottie again. “What are you going to do if you can’t sweet-talk her? ’Cause I gotta warn you, everyone thinks she’s sweet because of all that sugar on the outside, but it doesn’t take long before you find out she’s really a hard-ass underneath.”

  “I work around a big bunch of brawling bad-asses, so if I can’t sweet-talk her, I’ll just treat her like I would one of my guys and slam her against the glass.”

  That got a chuckle and crooked smile out of her. She didn’t know what he meant, but she didn’t care either. And she didn’t want to play this game anymore.

  “Well, I guess we’re both in luck tonight, because I’m the woman who’s running the shop, I’m on my way home, and with two glasses of Kelly’s Jangle punch in me, I’m not in a hard-ass mood.” She slid off her stool and met his gaze directly. “But here’s the deal, handsome, and there will be no negotiation. I’ll open up long enough for you to pick up the tree, period. There will be no other transactions. No purchasing a stand, no adding on ornaments. You’re getting nothing but the tree.”

  He laughed, and the sound had a little bit of a naughty edge, like he’d turned that whole monologue into something dirty in his head. The sound was rich and deep, warming Faith in a way that created tingles all over her body. “Deal.”

  She pulled her jacket from a peg on the wall, only to have him take it from her and hold it open. Faith stood there staring at the lining of her jacket for a long second, stupefied, wondering if a man had ever done something so simple yet so considerate for her.

  “We’ll talk about the videos tomorrow.” Lily’s voice tugged Faith back.

  Faith slipped her arms into her jacket with a quiet “Thank you” as he placed it on her shoulders. When she faced Lily again, she said, “That would be great.”

  She slung her purse over her shoulder and replaced her barriers like a force field before she met the man’s gaze. Now, standing straight, Faith was fully aware of his height and size. He was a very big, very fit man. But she still pointed a stern finger at him. “And no Mets hat.”

  He swiped it off his head in one lightning-fast motion, stashed it behind his back, and gri
nned.

  His hair was black, cut short, but growing out of the style and curling at the edges. His teeth were straight and bright. His cheeks dotted with two shallow dimples.

  Damn, he was adorable. Her heart tripped. But she gave a brisk nod. “Better.”

  Much better.

  Much, much better.

  She said good-bye to Lily, rolling her eyes at her friend’s giddy smile, and her hand held to her ear while she mouthed, Call me.

  Outside, the air hit Faith like a snowball, but that didn’t do much to straighten out the buzz in her head. And that was fine. Good, in fact. She needed every distraction to get her through this holiday. The man beside her was a great way to start.

  “I really appreciate you saving my ass,” Hottie said. “Can I take you to dinner this week to say thank you?”

  “We covered that back at the bar.” She unlocked the front door and wandered toward the cash register with the original circa 1870 wood floors creaking beneath her feet. The familiarity of the place where she’d spent more than half her life curled around her as she picked up the box holding will-call tags. “What name is the tree under?”

  “You don’t know me?”

  The surprise in his voice made her glance over her shoulder and smile. “Nope.”

  He lifted a brow as if he didn’t believe her. “Grant?”

  “Oh sure.” She returned her gaze to the counter. “Hazel’s tree.” Faith plucked the tag from a box and carried it toward the back door leading to her enclosed patio. “It’s right out here.”

  She pushed open the door and breathed deep of that amazing fresh-cut pine tree scent. After checking the tags on a few trees, she held up the correct one like a referee in a boxing match. “And we have a winner.”

  Hottie laughed, and the smile that lit his face would have taken Faith’s breath away if she’d been sober.

  “What were you drinking again?” he asked.

  “Jingle Jangle punch. Kelly Evans, the night bartender at Yuletide, makes the very best Christmas concoction anywhere. But don’t tell Ella I said that. She considers her bartending an art.”

  “Ella?” He shook his head, still smiling. “I don’t know her.”

  “Good. Then you can’t tattle.” She strolled to the gate leading to the street. “I’m assuming a big, strong man like you can get this itty-bitty tree to your car on your own.” She unlocked the gate and held it open. “I’m not in any shape to be throwing trees.”

  Hottie tossed the twelve-foot Noble fir—one of Faith’s largest and most expensive trees, wrapped safely in orange netting—onto his shoulder in one motion.

  Surprise dropped her mouth open. “Well, there’s one for the books. In all the years I’ve been selling trees, can’t say I’ve ever seen anyone handle one quite like that.”

  He paused just inside the gate—and inside her personal space. The heavy scent of pine mixed with something male and spicy and warm. And the same tingle of awareness she’d experienced back at the bar spread through Faith again.

  Before she knew how it had happened, her gaze had slipped to his mouth and her mind had drifted to how those full lips would feel against hers. It had been so long since she’d kissed a man. So damn long. Maybe there was something to Lily’s “casual” plan. Kissing without commitment? Dating without promises? Sex for sheer pleasure?

  “It’s all in the set-up and balance.” His voice, low and soft, drew her gaze to his again. “If you’ve got that right, even you could do this.”

  That made her laugh, and the alcohol turned it into a giggle. “I don’t think so.”

  “I’ll teach you how if you want. Imagine the reaction of all the tough guys in town when you throw a baby like this on your shoulder and carry it to their car.” His gaze took on a little heat. “Let me take you to dinner, and I’ll share the trick. Maybe I’ll even share a few more.”

  Unease trickled down her spine, and Faith realized that while casual might appeal in theory, in practice, it was something very different.

  She lowered her gaze to his chest and shook her head. “Thanks anyway.”

  When his feet didn’t move toward his car, she glanced at his face again. He was looking at her with a little bit of dismay. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

  She wondered if the alcohol had affected her memory. This time of year, so many family members came to town, so many previous residents returned to visit. Normally, she had a good memory. Remembering was good for business. But…

  Her brows lifted. “Um, sorry, no.”

  “Meier.”

  Still didn’t ring any bells, and the nerves in her belly were kicking up. “Nice to meet you, Meier. I’m Faith, I’m beat, and tomorrow’s another long day. Say hello to Hazel for me.”

  He chuckled. Lifted his brows. “Meier Grant?”

  She knew Hazel had three sons, but Faith didn’t know the family well and hadn’t heard any gossip about the Grant boys. She only knew they all lived out of town, thought she’d heard they worked for her husband’s business. But Meier was making a definite statement about his importance. He obviously thought his name should be on the lips of everyone in town, if not everyone in America.

  Faith found that both comical and annoying. “Good night, Meier Grant.”

  He chuckled and approached the gate, pulling something from his pocket. “Here’s my number. I won’t be in town long, so use it while you can.”

  Now she was getting ticked. She ignored his card, tipped her head, met his gaze directly, and repeated, “Good night, Meier Grant.”

  “You’re going to want to call me when you figure out who I am.”

  For the second time, she was grateful for the alcohol taking her edge off. “I’m too tired to get pissed over your arrogance. Please go so I can find my pillow.”

  He grinned. “When you’re ready, call me. For a drink, dinner, dessert. Call me for anything you need.” He reached down and slipped the card into the back pocket of her jeans. And his touch shot a tingle of sensation across her backside. “Sleep tight, angel.”

  Stepping onto the sidewalk, he strode to an SUV at the curb and Faith looked down to secure the gate. But his “dessert” and “anything” had hit the nerves he’d intended, shivering chords of desire through her belly. The “angel” touched a different place, the same one affected when he’d held her jacket. And Lily was right about one thing—both of those places had been neglected for too long.

  When she looked up, she found him securing the tree to a Range Rover so new, it still carried the dealer’s plates. She huffed a laugh and shook her head. Filling those needs by allowing herself to be used by a rich, arrogant man was not going to help her in any way.

  Except to get laid.

  And escape the burden of her responsibilities—even if only for a few stolen moments.

  Maybe even distract her through the holiday season.

  While giving her some much-needed companionship, male contact, long-denied pleasure…

  Faith sighed as she retraced her steps to lock the doors and turn off the lights, then took the stairs to her apartment above the store, thinking about Meier Grant’s hot little smile. Those full lips. That tall, muscular body.

  And a thread of apprehension snuck in as she reached the door to her apartment. “What the hell would I do with all that man?”

  She let all the stresses of the day drain away as she wandered into her living room, hoping the alcohol would help her get a good night’s sleep for a change.

  With her purse and her jacket on the sofa, Faith paused at the windows and drew the blinds against the dark night, still sparkling with a light snow. When she glanced toward the street, Faith found Meier speaking with Dwayne Urich. Since the death of his wife, Dwayne would talk to anyone who would listen for as long as they would listen. Faith gave Meier five minutes before he cut Dwayne off. Someone that self-important wouldn’t waste his time with Dwayne’s lonely rambles.

  But as she counted down the minutes, Faith realized
Meier wasn’t just listening to Dwayne, he was laughing. He was engaging. And she had to admit, she hadn’t seen Dwayne that animated in a very long time.

  After ten minutes, Meier was still leaning against his car, hands in his pockets, snow layering his hair and jacket. The sight reminded her of those last days with her father and how he’d taken such joy in the visits from his closest friends. And softened her to the hot stranger’s arrogant edge.

  “Maybe you’re not all bad, Meier Grant.”

  Chapter 2

  Meier’s gut hurt from laughing at the tales Dwayne spun of Holly’s current high school hockey team, but he kept Faith in his peripheral vision, where she continued to watch his conversation from a window above the hardware store.

  “And then,” Dwayne said, winding down his most recent story of an away game where the roads home had been closed due to snow and the team had to stay in a motel overnight, “even after eight other guys had failed, Healy decides he can reach the ground floor, with, get this—”

  “Oh God, he didn’t—”

  Dwayne was already nodding. “The Grant sling.”

  Meier doubled over laughing, remembering the antics he and his team had become legendary for during high school. “Did he make it?”

  “Nope.” Dwayne chuckled. “None of those kids has any rope-tying experience, couldn’t tie a square knot to save their lives. Ended up ass-first in the snow.”

  “How long did you leave him there?”

  “Twenty minutes.”

  Meier winced. “Ooo, harsh.”

  Dwayne just chuckled. “Great to see you. I’m sure you’re swamped, but I’d love to get you into the rink with the kids if you could spare a couple hours.”

  “Only if it’s kept quiet. I’m officially on medical leave for my shoulder. The PT’s all finished, I’m good as new, but you know how long it can take doctors to consult with each other and sign the forms to put me back on the ice. I don’t need anything getting in the way of that.

  “No, no,” Dwayne agreed. “Gotta get you back in the game.”.”