“Well, she was right about that,” Luke said. “So, when do we leave to go get her?”
“What?!” Lanie cried. “You can’t go get her. Look at all that she did to go live her dream, and we all know this is her dream. She gives every cent of her discretionary income to animal charities.”
“But she’s Desi,” Luke protested. “She’s”—he glanced quickly at Quino before continuing—“fragile. She’s very fragile. She could get hurt out there.”
“The fact that she managed to get there is what I’m focused on,” Lanie said. She shook her head in wonder. “I mean wow, just wow. Our little Desi is all grown up.”
“No, she isn’t,” Luke argued. “She’s on an adventure and, sure, she’s okay now, but what if something goes wrong? What if she gets hurt or lost or is homesick?”
“And what if she doesn’t?” Lanie countered.
Quino felt as if he were watching the two sides of him battling it out. On the one hand, he was so proud of Desi and all that she had managed on her own, but on the other hand, he was terrified. Maybe Reyva and Lanie were right and nothing would happen, and he hoped that was the case, but the fact that she was so far away from him when she might need him and there’d be no way for him to get there quickly—it gutted him.
“Grant writing is pretty advanced stuff,” Luke said. “How did she manage that?”
“She didn’t say, but I’m assuming she had someone write it for her,” Quino said. He frowned at them. “I wish I knew who it was because I’d like to have a word with them.”
Both Lanie and Luke raised their hands in innocence.
“Not a writer,” Luke said.
“Me, either,” Lanie agreed. “But I’d love to know who she used because we could sure use some grant money to expand the hippotherapy program.”
Quino gave her a pointed look.
“Sorry,” she said. “Not the right time, I get it. But seriously, if she mentions who helped her—”
Quino heaved a big sigh. “Yeah, I got it. I’ll hook you up. If she ever says more than three words to me while she’s running around Kenya, I’ll be sure to ask.”
“Thanks,” Lanie said. She reached out her hand and squeezed his forearm. “She’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”
“I don’t even know how long she’s going to be gone,” he said. Ack! There it was, the pouty note he’d been trying to keep out of his voice. He felt the need to explain. “I mean, it’s Christmas.”
Lanie and Luke exchanged an amused glance.
“We know, boss,” Luke said. “No one loves Christmas like you love Christmas.”
“It has a lot of significance for me,” Quino said. “And with Desi not here, well, it’s just wrong.”
Esther moseyed over to where the three of them stood. She methodically checked all of their pockets, hitting pay dirt with Luke, who had a carrot in his jacket pocket. He held it on the flat of his palm.
“That was for someone else,” he scolded her. Esther did not care. She chewed the carrot and tossed her head, obviously disappointed that there wasn’t more for her. Luke gave in and patted her neck. She nudged him playfully with her nose and Quino looked at the horse that used to be his mother’s and felt his heart squeeze tight in his chest. He was having a hard time breathing.
“You okay, Quino?” Lanie asked. “You look pale.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he said. He glanced at them both and hoped he sounded more certain than he felt. “I’m sure Desi is going to do great things in Kenya. She’s always wanted this and I should support her. And if things do go to hell, I’ll get her out. One way or another, I’ll make sure she comes home safely.”
“Of course you will,” Luke said.
The absolute faith in his voice was just what Quino needed to hear. His panic ebbed a bit. He reached over and rubbed Esther on the forehead the way she liked. She whinnied and twitched her tail in appreciation of the affection. He glanced at his staff, who were also his friends, and said, “I’ll put her in for the night.”
They watched him go with varying levels of worry in their eyes. Esther trotted beside him, knowing the routine and that a bucket of feed awaited her.
“I promise she’ll come home,” he said to the horse as they walked. He knew full well that he was really making a promise to his mom. The same one he made when he sat by Desi’s hospital bed as she lay in a coma. He’d promised his parents then just like he did now. “I’ll make sure nothing happens to her. I swear it.”
Esther trotted ahead, clearly impatient with him. Quino followed, wondering if Desi was really okay and resisting the urge to call her again. Had she gotten enough to eat? Was her room secure? Did wild animals roam the grounds? What if a lion got into her room and made a midnight snack of her? Ugh. He hated this feeling of helplessness.
He glanced at his phone and noted there was a text message he had missed. It was a picture of Desi, sitting in a room with a group of people at a large table that was covered in food. She was making a kissy face at him and he knew that she had known he’d been worried about her and she had sent him this to ease his fear. He chuckled. Little sister knew him very well. He zoomed in on the people in the photo. It looked like a melting pot of every gender, age, and ethnicity, and they all seemed to have kind faces, or maybe he was projecting his hopes. He didn’t know. All he knew for sure was that there was Desi right in the middle of it. A surge of pride swelled beneath his rib cage.
He texted back how proud he was of her and then stopped typing before his fingers feverishly released all of his fears in a text message overload. He didn’t want his worry to dampen her adventure even though it about killed him not to badger her about safety. He glanced at the time on his phone. Six o’clock? Oh, man, he was supposed to meet Savy at seven at Perk Up. He hustled Esther into her stall and made quick work of feeding her and settling her for the night.
He had a date, or rather, not a date. But after last night, it sort of felt like a date even though he knew she had expressly said it wasn’t. But was it? He had no idea, but one whiff of his horsey exterior and he knew, date or not, he had to shower and change clothes or there’d never be a date date.
* * *
* * *
SAVY put on leggings and a tunic top. She looked like she was going to the gym. She yanked them off and put on jeans and a flannel shirt. No, no, no! What was she dressing for? An evening of chopping wood? She grabbed a clingy knit dress and a pair of boots. Too sexy! Damn it!
She didn’t know how to navigate this no-man’s-land of not-dating after spending the night completely naked together. And what if there was mistletoe? That stuff was clearly her kryptonite. She needed to nip that. In fact, tomorrow, she was going to remove all of the mistletoe from the shop. No mistletoe, no smooches. Simple.
She decided on a pair of black velvet jeans—for warmth! And a heather-green cashmere top that accentuated her curves and the long line of her neck but was also totally for warmth. It was! The temperature had dropped today and a gal had to be prepared.
Lastly, she went with a pair of black suede ankle boots because the heels would make her almost eye to eye with Quino and she felt the need to be on level footing with the man who had ruined her for any other man. Honestly, if she’d known he was that good with his hands, his lips, his tongue—
She shook her head. Nope, no, nuh-uh. She wasn’t going to keep thinking about last night. Clearly, she needed to reestablish some boundary lines with this man.
She ran a brush through her hair, checked that her makeup was light but accentuated her pale eyelashes and brows—seriously, thanks to the cosmetological advances in eyebrow pencils she no longer had eyebrows that rubbed off. She put on her favorite lipstick in a deep-lilac shade that didn’t clash with her hair, always a concern, grabbed her coat, and headed for the door.
She jogged down the two flights of stairs, crossing through the s
hop on her way out. Maisy was working the front counter, dressed up in the elf suit Savy had worn the other day. If it was too short for Savannah it was too long for Maisy, and she looked like an elf playing dress-up in mother elf’s clothes.
“Okay, so I’m headed out,” Savy said. “See you later. Bye.”
She thought if she didn’t break stride, Maisy wouldn’t question her. She had her hand on the door and was just opening it, when a foil-wrapped gold coin pinged her on the head.
“Not so fast,” Maisy said. She had a bowl of the coins on the counter beside her.
“Ouch!” Savy let go of the door to rub her head. She glanced down. It was one of the big coins, the dollar ones. She glanced at her friend. “What’d you do that for?”
“I haven’t seen you all day,” Maisy said. “And when you finally appear, you’re scuttling out the door like you’ve just robbed the joint.”
“Sorry, but I’m in a hurry.”
“For . . . ?” Maisy asked. She was watching Savy through her rectangular-framed glasses as if in anticipation of some great news.
“Nothing that exciting,” Savy said. “It’s merely a brainstorming session about the bookstore with a local business owner, you know, to see if there are ways to promote it that I haven’t thought of.” Oh, the lies! She was being vague on purpose, and if she got caught it was not going to go well.
She watched Maisy’s face to see if she looked relieved by Savy’s words as if she really was sweating the financial straits the shop was in and Savy’s resourcefulness was a load off her mind. Maisy just smiled at her.
“Then why are you wearing your date lipstick?” she asked.
“What? No I’m not,” Savy denied. She felt her face get hot, which was stupid because she was not going on a date even if she had, oh, damn, put on the lipstick she wore for dates.
“Yeah, you are,” Maisy said. A customer approached the counter and she quickly asked, “Who are you meeting? Is it Quino? Because I heard from Jeri, who heard from Susan at the library, who heard from Kelly at the post office that you were ice-skating with Quino last night, and I thought to myself that can’t possibly be because I worked with her all day and she didn’t say a word to me. Not to mention the fact that, apparently, you’re quite the accomplished skater and how is it that after eleven years of this friendship, I don’t know this about you?”
“Uh . . . it’s complicated,” Savy said. She moved aside so the customers could put their books on the counter. “We’ll talk later, okay?”
She dashed out the door with a wave. She didn’t glance back, knowing Maisy’s brow would be furrowed with concern.
It was cold tonight and she hurried down the walkway to the street, hoping the movement would warm her up. Perk Up was located on the town green and it would take her only a few minutes to get there. She saw the ice rink on the end of the square and smiled when she remembered the night before. Her leg muscles had been sore today but it was a good sore. Of course they might also be sore from the sex marathon she’d shared with Quino, but she preferred to think it was the skating.
She hurried into the coffeehouse, looking for a tall man with dark hair. There was no sign of him. She hated that. She’d been hoping he’d be there first so she didn’t look so eager. It was seven o’clock on the dot. Savy had an inability to be late, drilled into her by her upbringing but also a part of her corporate life. She loathed waiting for people and tended to judge them harshly if they made her wait more than five minutes. She hoped Quino didn’t keep her waiting or this meeting would be off to a rocky start. Then again it might help temper the fuzzy glow that seemed to appear around her every memory of him from last night. Yes, if he was late that would be a good start to breaking the spell he’d put her under.
She got in line at the counter and glanced at the board. A voice from behind her said, “I already ordered you a flat white. I hope that’s okay?”
She turned around and there he was. His hair was fresh-from-a-shower damp, and his smile was wide and warm. She blinked. He was mouthwateringly handsome. Had he always been this good-looking? She couldn’t remember. Then she glanced down and noted he was wearing the most obnoxious Christmas sweater she had ever seen. It had a giant reindeer head on it with the requisite red nose where his belly button would be and antlers that started at the shoulders and went all the way down his sleeves.
“Tell me that doesn’t—” She pointed at the nose. It blinked red before she finished her sentence. “Never mind.”
He grinned at her. “Festive? Am I right?”
“Oh, it’s something, all right,” she said. And then she grinned. She couldn’t help it. Here was this big manly man, horse-wrangling dude, wearing a reindeer sweater. It was too much. She laughed.
He grinned and gestured to a booth in the corner. It had high sides, which explained why she hadn’t seen him.
“How did you know I like flat whites?” she asked. If he had asked Maisy, she had no idea how she was going to explain this.
“Because that’s what you’re always drinking in the bookstore when I see you,” he said.
Okay, paying attention to what she liked was major points, or at least it would be if they were becoming involved, which they weren’t. She forced herself to remember this as she slid into the booth on the opposite side of him.
Her flat white was sitting there waiting for her with two macarons, a chocolate and a vanilla, on a plate next to it. Savy tried to remember the last time a guy had bought her coffee and dessert or a drink or dinner, for that matter. It had been so long she had no recall. Macarons—that was dirty pool if Quino was trying to get her to see him as more than a pal. Then she thought about how it had felt to be naked in his arms and she knew she was kidding herself if she thought she could walk back their relationship without a blunt conversation. She just didn’t know how to begin even with that ridiculous reindeer nose blinking at her.
“How were things at the bookstore today?” he asked.
“Good,” she said. “Busy. I tried a couple of times to get some details out of Maisy, you know, to learn how much financial trouble the place is in, but she’s so besotted with Ryder that she’s useless.”
“What about Jeri Lancaster?” he asked. “She’s the bookkeeper, do you think she knows what’s happening? And if she does, should we ask her? Saving the bookstore would be a lot easier if we knew what sort of cash amount we needed to keep it afloat.”
“I haven’t seen Jeri—her kids have a million holiday activities happening,” Savy said. “But I plan to ask her directly the next time I do.”
“Good,” Quino said. “Maybe she can work some math magic and help us.”
“In the meantime, I think I need to play to my strengths,” Savy said. She pulled a small notebook and a pen out of her purse. “Which is publicity and promotion. We need something big to happen at the bookstore that will bring readers, buying readers, into the place.”
“Okay, hit me,” he said. “What have you thought of so far?”
“Well, I have one angle that I’m working on, but it’s not promising so we can table that for now,” she said. “Other ideas I’ve had that you can help me with, Mr. Christmas, are holiday-themed stuff.”
“Such as?”
“Decorating gingerbread cookies, a family thing, so moms can show up with their kids, and have the kids decorate cookies while they shop for books.”
“I like it,” he said. “How about Christmas movie night? You can have big-screen showings of all the classics and provide popcorn. Everyone could show up in their holiday pajamas.”
“Who owns holiday pajamas?” Savy made a face and he laughed.
“I do,” he said. “You don’t?”
“No.”
“How is that even possible? And you really don’t like the holiday movies? I can’t believe that.”
“Believe it. As for the movies, th
ey’re all so . . .” Words failed her.
“So . . . ?”
“Ridiculously optimistic,” she said. “My holidays have never lived up to the expectation of those movies, and I am just . . . a bitter, bitter woman, apparently.”
Quino laughed and Savy felt as if she had scored a major victory, which was ridiculous because she wasn’t trying to charm him. She was just being herself.
“Watch It’s a Wonderful Life with me tomorrow,” he said. “It’s a tradition for me and Desi to put up our tree and decorate while watching. She’s not going to be able to join me tomorrow, so why don’t you?”
“That sounds suspiciously like a date,” Savy said. It was the date lipstick; she was sure of it. She was sending the wrong signal. She should have stuck to lip gloss. She blotted her lips with her napkin.
“No,” he said. “Just friends hanging out, doing the Christmas thing that you don’t like.”
“It’s not that I don’t like the holiday,” she said. “Okay, I don’t like my version of the holiday. But I do like the idea of what it could be, you know, Christmas miracles and loving families coming together, but that’s just never been my experience.”
“Then come over tomorrow night and make new holiday memories,” he said. “Better ones.”
His dark gaze was earnest and Savy got the feeling that this wasn’t about them dating or not dating; there was something more going on. There was a vulnerability in his gaze that made her pause. She got the feeling he needed her. Huh.
“All right, I can do it. But only if it’s just friends hanging out,” she said. “Last night was fun but we’re done with that now.”
He met her gaze and gave a slow nod. “Absolutely. One and done—well, more than one, but who’s counting? It was more like four or was it five? Oh, apparently, I’m counting.”
She glared at him. “Did you want me to come over or not?”
The Christmas Keeper Page 14