Jordan tried to be mindful of spoiling Mason too much. He’d attended high school with a number of friends who were products of divorce. They had made manipulating their guilt-ridden parents an art form. Jordan never wanted to create that sense of entitlement in Mason, but giving his son the kind of Christmas he had enjoyed as a child wasn’t spoiling him.
He remembered his mother’s warning from a couple of days ago about trimming the low-hanging tree limbs so that Mason couldn’t reach them. That brought about another concern: pine needles all over the floor. He was sure he’d read somewhere that some trees were more susceptible to losing their needles than others, and with the way Mason had of putting everything in his mouth these days, he needed to make sure he bought a tree that wouldn’t have dozens of dead pine needles scattered about the floor.
What in the hell did he know about picking out the safest Christmas tree?
A slow grin lifted one corner of Jordan’s mouth as a thought occurred to him.
He might not know much about trees, but he knew one person who did.
He didn’t give himself time to deliberate before making a U-turn and heading toward Wintersage’s main business district. As he drove toward the yellow-and-white Victorian that housed the Silk Sisters, Jordan tried to discredit the sudden quickening of his pulse. And the reason for it.
He wanted Vicki’s expertise. She worked with this stuff for a living. She could give him advice on the safest tree, the one that would last the longest, maybe even the one that would look the best in his great room. That was all he wanted here—a little advice.
She’s going to see right through you.
Yet he stayed on the same trajectory, because it didn’t matter if she didn’t buy his flimsy excuse. He hadn’t been able to get her off his mind since she’d left his house Tuesday night. Scratch that, since Sandra’s wedding.
Jordan still couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was that had changed about her that had him so intrigued. It couldn’t be just because of her new look, could it? He wasn’t that damn shallow, was he?
But what else could it be?
He had always viewed Vicki as just one of Sandra’s friends. He definitely had never looked at her with romantic interest. But Jordan couldn’t deny the current of electricity that had shot through him when he’d first seen her standing on the beach at Sandra’s wedding.
A slow burn started low in his belly.
He could recall with incredible clarity the way his breath had caught in his throat. She’d stolen the air from his lungs, and turned the heads of more than a few of the single men at the reception. The fact that he had even noticed the attention that other men had paid to her that night should have been the first clue that something had changed.
He just didn’t get it. Vicki Ahlfors wasn’t his type. She was restrained and demure, while he tended to gravitate toward sassy and vivacious.
Jordan huffed out a sardonic laugh. His experience with Allison should have taught him something about his “type” and the trouble that it could lead to. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he’d never had much luck with his usual type. Once the shine wore off, he found that he wasn’t all that attracted to what was underneath.
Still, was Vicki the kind of woman he could see himself getting involved with?
“Hell yes,” Jordan whispered to himself. If the excitement skittering across his skin just at the thought of seeing her again was any indication, hell yes he could see Vicki becoming much more than just a friend of his sister’s.
The question was did she see him that way?
Jordan refused to believe he was the only one who’d felt the electricity that had sparked between them Tuesday night. He’d seen it in the way she’d looked at him, in the way her breath had caught. There had been interest in those beautiful brown eyes. Maybe she would be willing to see if there was anything more to the awareness that had ignited in those moments just before she’d left his house.
Jordan’s chest tightened as he contemplated whether or not he was really ready to take that momentous step.
He sure as hell wasn’t going to go the rest of his life without a woman. He loved women too much. He cherished the feeling of waking up with a soft, warm body snuggled up next to him. Relished the simple pleasures of sharing his life with another human being.
But Jordan would be the first to admit that his ex-wife had done a number on him. After the whirlwind that had been his love affair with Allison and the heartache she’d caused when she walked out on him and Mason, the thought of allowing another woman to get that close, of trusting another woman not to hurt both him and his son, was something he just didn’t know if he could do.
The image of Vicki’s sweet, subtle smile flashed before him, and the tightness in his chest eased ever so slightly.
Something about this felt right. Whether it was because of the way she treated Mason, or something deeper, he couldn’t say yet, but Jordan had the suspicion that if he didn’t explore these new feelings he would regret it.
He pulled up to the Victorian, unstrapped Mason from his car seat and started up the stairs. Even though clients were in and out of the Victorian all the time, he still knocked on the front door before walking in.
Vicki was in the front parlor, straightening a bow on the massive Christmas wreath that hung above the fireplace.
“Hi there, you two,” she greeted.
If he was a betting man, Jordan would put his money on Mason being the reason her face lit up the way it did. But it felt damn good to pretend it was because she was happy to see him.
She hurried over to them and took Mason from his arms.
Yeah, that was what he’d figured.
Vicki tickled Mason’s chin. He responded with that smile made to melt hearts. His son was such a flirt.
“Sandra isn’t here,” she said. “She had to meet with a client in Portsmouth.”
“I’m not here to see Sandra. Actually, I’m here to see you.”
Her pretty brown eyes widened. “Me?”
“Mason and I are going shopping for a Christmas tree. I figured I should probably get one.” There was no need to mention that it was initially his mother’s idea. “I was hoping you could give me some advice on the type of tree I should get. I don’t want one that will shed pine needles. He loves putting things in his mouth.”
“I noticed that Tuesday night,” she said as she grinned down at Mason. “When it comes to picking out a tree, it’s more about how you maintain it than the particular variety. Needle retention is better in some, but honestly, as long as you keep it properly watered, any tree you get should keep its needles well past Christmas.”
“Ah. Okay,” Jordan said.
Her brow dipped in a curious frown. “Was that the only thing you needed?”
It suddenly occurred to him that if he’d wanted her to think he was just seeking advice, a simple phone call would have sufficed. Which made his trip here even more transparent.
Which begged the question, why was he being vague?
Over the past week, if his mind wasn’t occupied with Mason or the election, he was thinking about Vicki. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that thoughts of Vicki had usurped the election.
What he felt for her was real. He wanted this. He wanted her.
And if he was going to do this—if he was really going to pursue Vicki, then he needed to do this. No more skirting around the issue.
“Actually,” Jordan began, “I was...uh... I was thinking that maybe—if you have time, that is—that you’d like to come with us? If you have the time.”
Well, that was as smooth as a porcupine’s ass.
When had he become so inept at asking a pretty girl out? He wasn’t even asking her out out just yet; he was only asking her to help him pick a Christmas tree, for crying out loud. How was he going to ask her out on a genuine date if he couldn’t do something this simple?
“I know it’s still pretty early.” He glanced at his
watch. It was just after two in the afternoon. “I understand if you can’t leave your flower shop just yet.”
A delicate smile drew across Vicki’s lips. Either she went for bumbling idiots, or she was laughing at him. Maybe both.
“You’re inviting me to go tree shopping?” she asked.
“I’d appreciate an expert’s opinion.” He shook his head and blew out a frustrated breath. “That’s not true,” he said. “At least that’s not the only reason.”
He shifted from one foot to the other like a nervous schoolboy, which put the final stamp on this humiliating episode.
Dammit, enough of this!
It had been a while since he’d approached a woman, but he wasn’t completely out of his element. Not to brag, but he’d won a few hearts in the past. He could do this.
“Look, Vicki. The truth is I really enjoyed hanging out with you the other night. Even though I slept most of your visit, the brief time I was awake it was nice to talk to someone—another adult who isn’t my mom or Sandra or someone involved with the election.”
He gestured to the topiary adorned in glittering gold-and-red foil ribbon.
“You’re really into all this Christmas decorating and floral-design stuff, so I thought you’d enjoy tree shopping.” He paused for a moment. “Now that I think about it, it was pretty presumptuous to assume that you’d just drop everything to help me pick out a Christmas tree. Maybe I’ll come over another time, when you’re not busy. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing.”
Feeling like an ass, he lifted Mason from her arms and started for the door.
“Jordan?” He looked back to find her staring at him, an amused expression edging up the corners of her lips. “I would love to go Christmas tree shopping with the two of you.”
His eyes widened. “Really?” Maybe she did go for bumbling idiots.
She nodded. “Yes, really. Give me a few minutes to lock up, and we can go.”
Jordan tried to stop the huge smile from spreading across his face, but that wasn’t going to happen. He would probably smile like this for the rest of the night.
Chapter 5
Vicki cursed the nervous energy shooting through her bloodstream and the stupid butterflies fluttering around her idiot stomach. But how in the heck was she supposed to control them when Jordan Woolcott was in the parlor—not waiting to see Sandra, but to see her?
“Calm down,” Vicki cautioned herself. Apparently, she was in need of a little refresher history lesson.
How long had she pined for this man?
For years, Jordan had never bothered to look her way. Yet all of a sudden, he was showing interest. What made him any different than the dozen men who’d strolled into Petals this week with a newfound appreciation for fresh flowers?
Because this was Jordan.
As much as she wanted to make him work for her attention, she just couldn’t play hard to get when it came to Jordan. Because he was the one she’d always wanted.
Vicki’s chest tightened with anticipation at the thought of him finally wanting her in the same way she wanted him.
She’d sensed a change in the air. Something about the way he’d looked at her on Tuesday, as if he was seeing her for the first time. She’d tried to disregard it, too afraid she was looking for something that wasn’t really there. But the look in his eyes as he’d so adorably fumbled his way through that invitation to go tree shopping confirmed what she thought she’d seen before leaving his house the other night.
She paused for a moment and inhaled a deep, calming breath. She didn’t want to get ahead of herself. It wasn’t as if she was the best at reading men; she didn’t want to think how foolish she would feel if she’d misjudged his intentions.
Vicki lifted her purse and coat from the coatrack and then shut down her computer. Just as she started for the foyer, the phone rang. She almost let it go to voice mail, but remembered that she was expecting a call from a fellow florist in Durham who possibly wanted to go in on a huge decorating job in Boston.
“Petals,” she answered. “This is Vicki. How may I help you?”
“Ms. Ahlfors, this is Robin Tooney with the Wintersage Holiday Extravaganza Day Parade.”
Her heart instantly started to thump a million times faster against the walls of her chest.
“Yes. Hello,” Vicki stammered.
“Ms. Ahlfors, the committee has made its decision on the submissions that were entered for this year’s competition.” Vicki’s heart jumped right up into her throat. “It is my pleasure to inform you that you’ve been granted a float in this year’s parade. Congratulations.”
“Oh, my,” she whispered. Her capacity to think evaporated, but she quickly pulled herself together. “I’m stunned, and thrilled, of course. Thank you so much.”
“The committee was completely charmed by your idea of Christmas celebrations from around the world. I know you’ve had a hand in creating several floats for other participants in the past. I can’t wait to see what you create for your own.”
“I’m looking forward to showing you. Thank you again.”
Robin Tooney instructed her on where to find the newly updated guidelines for float building on the committee’s website and filled her in on the deadline information.
After ending the call, Vicki just stood there for a moment in stunned disbelief. Then she threw her fists in the air and yelped.
“Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”
“I don’t mean to pry, but I’m assuming you just received some good news?”
She whipped around to find Jordan standing in the arched entryway that led to Petals’s retail area. Heat instantly flooded her cheeks, but she was too excited to try hiding her embarrassment.
His brow arched. “So?”
“I got in,” Vicki said with a breathless laugh. “I can’t believe I got in.”
“In where?”
She pointed to the phone. “That was the head of the float committee for the Wintersage Holiday Extravaganza Day Parade. I submitted an idea for a float, and it was accepted! After providing flowers for dozens of other floats over the years, for the first time Petals will have its own in the parade.”
“That’s wonderful, Vicki. The Christmas parade is a pretty big deal. But that’s also a pretty big undertaking, isn’t it?”
“It is, but I think I can do it,” Vicki said. She shook her head. “No, I know I can do it.”
Wintersage Holiday Extravaganza Day had grown into a region-wide event, reaching far beyond the boundaries of their small New England town. And the parade had become the focal point of the entire day. Businesses from several cities stretching along the coast, and as far inland as Lowell, used the opportunity to promote their brands.
As the floats had grown more elaborate over the past several years, larger floral-design shops had begun courting the businesses. A number of those larger shops had managed to steal away several of her customers. One of her previous clients, a marina that catered to Wintersage’s elite, had the audacity to take the design Vicki had created for them and bring it to a competing florist to actually produce the float.
And, like the pushover she used to be, she’d allowed it.
Not anymore. The new Vicki was not going to quietly sit back while others took all the glory. This year she had something to prove.
When her float took to the streets of Wintersage and held its own against the stiff competition she was sure to face, her family would be forced to see her as the serious, career-minded entrepreneur that she was, and not the owner of just a “little flower shop.”
A mischievous grin spread across her lips. “I’m really going to do this,” she said. “I’m going to put Petals on the map. I really, really wanted to get in. It feels amazing.”
“You need to celebrate,” Jordan said.
“Yes, I do. Luckily for you, Christmas tree shopping is exactly the kind of thing a florist does to celebrate.” She sent him a cheeky wink. “Let’s go.”
Vicki was stunned at
her own audaciousness, but she didn’t care. She was much too giddy over the news she’d just received to feel self-conscious.
It didn’t make sense to take separate cars, so she joined Jordan in his. As she sat ensconced in the supple leather seat, she closed her eyes and pulled in a healthy whiff of his scent. There was something about the combination of sandalwood and a man’s unique essence that drove her crazy.
Of course, when that man was Jordan Woolcott, the sandalwood was optional. He drove her crazy merely by existing—always had.
“Have you thought about a theme for your float?” Jordan asked.
“Christmas from Around the World. I got the idea from my favorite ornament from when I was a little girl. It has Santa Claus dressed in traditional garb from various cultures around the globe. My mom used to tell me that Santa’s clothes would magically change as the reindeer flew him to different countries.”
He grinned. “And you believed that, huh?”
“I was five, of course I believed it.”
“Do you still have the ornament?”
She nodded. “I’ve kept all of my ornaments. I buy a new one every year to add to the collection.”
“So what’s this year’s?”
“I haven’t gotten one yet.” She stared out the window at the myriad boats hugging the harbor’s shoreline. “I always try to find an ornament that reflects something significant that happened during the previous year. Maybe I’ll find something to commemorate all the changes that have happened over the past couple of months.” She looked over at him. “This is turning out to be a year that I’ll want to remember for a long time to come.”
“I know what you mean,” he said in a quiet voice. “It’s been memorable in more ways than one.”
There it was again, that flicker of awareness she’d felt the other night. It started with a spark that turned into a slow burn, humming in the air around them.
“Do you have any Christmas traditions from when you were a little boy that you plan to pass on to Mason?” she asked.
A Mistletoe Affair (Mills & Boon Kimani) (Wintersage Weddings - Book 3) Page 7