by Lori Wilde
Gulping, Edie stepped back but couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Wh-why did you do that?” she whispered, perplexed.
He pointed at the ceiling. “Mistletoe.”
Edie looked up, and sure enough, she was standing under a sprig of mistletoe. “Oh.”
A tree parasite had caused him to kiss her. Nothing else.
Jonah took her hand. “Come on, let’s get out of here. We’re drawing a crowd.”
Heedlessly, she allowed him to drag her into the employee lounge. Once there, Edie changed in the ladies’ room, Jonah in the men’s.
Jonah emerged a few minutes later wearing a wide grin, black denim jeans, and a black sweater. His hair was combed back off his forehead, giving her full access to his gorgeous features. The man had to be the best-looking Santa Claus in the annals of department store history.
All she’d done was take off her elf hat and Merry Christmas apron, exchanged the elf shoes for brown ankle boots, brushed her hair, and put on lipstick. She felt as nervous and excited as a fifteen-year-old on her first date.
Calm down, Edie. You don’t know anything about this guy.
Yeah, but that was the point of taking him to lunch.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Uh-huh.” It was the most she could say.
He held the lounge door open for her, and as they stepped into the corridor, Edie caught a glimpse of Trotter lecturing Jules Hardy, a sales clerk from cosmetics.
“Go back, go back.” She turned and ran smack into Jonah’s chest, which was solid as a brick wall.
“What is it?” Jonah asked, taking her hand.
“Trotter,” she said. “After what happened this morning, I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to see us together.”
But it was too late to disappear back into the lounge. Trotter half-turned toward them. One more second and he’d catch them holding hands.
Jonah gave Edie a light push. “You go left, I’ll go right. We’ll meet at the cafeteria.”
Nodding, Edie ducked down and disappeared behind a carousel of maternity dresses, doing her best to stay out of sight.
THE MINUTE SHE SLIPPED away, Jonah realized he’d sent her up a blind alley. She was trapped in the corner of the store with no way past Trotter.
He would have to divert the man’s attention.
Jonah aligned himself with a pillar decorated in red-and-white crepe paper and stood with his arms plastered to his side, his knees clamped together. Quickly, he darted his head around the corner for a peek.
Trotter preened before a three-way, full-length mirror, licking the fingers of one hand, then combing down the few strands of hair he wore too long in a pathetic attempt to disguise his balding pate.
Turning the other direction, Jonah searched for Edie. He saw a rack of dresses ripple with movement, then spotted the top of Edie’s curly head as she scurried on all fours, headed for the lingerie department.
Jonah clamped a hand over his mouth to hold back the laughter.
Trotter pulled his eyes from his own reflection and canted his head. A frown creased his high forehead. He pivoted on his heel and walked to where Edie crouched behind a barrel of sale-priced underwear. His rubber-soled shoes squeaked with every step.
Creak. Creak. Creak.
Jonah had to do something. He couldn’t let Edie bear Trotter’s disapproval alone. Stepping from behind the pillar, he called, “Mr. Trotter. May I speak to you for a moment?”
“What do you want, Stevenson?”
Think, Jonah. Think.
“Er...”
“Yes?” Trotter snapped. “Speak up.”
Jonah peered over Trotter’s shoulder, searching for Edie. This was her chance to get out of the store. Where was she?
“I’d like to ask about the employee discount.”
Trotter frowned. “You don’t get a discount. You’re here to work off a community service obligation, not get a paycheck.”
At that moment, Edie suddenly popped to her feet two yards behind Trotter. She waved her arms and mouthed the word, “Go.”
Jonah shook his head at her.
“What’s going on here?” Trotter demanded and snapped his neck around.
Quick as a jack-in-the-box, Edie ducked out of sight.
Trotter turned back to Jonah and narrowed his beady eyes. “You’re up to something, Stevenson. I’ve got a very bad feeling about you.”
“Who, me?” Jonah smiled innocently.
“Yes, you. Get back to your department.” Trotter clicked his heels. “Right now.”
“Uh, sir, I got turned around. Could you show me where my department is?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Trotter snorted. “Follow me.
When Trotter led the way out of ladies’ wear, Jonah breathed a sigh of relief. He might have looked like an imbecile, but at least he’d bought Edie some time.
Why he should care, Jonah couldn’t say. But something about that sweet little pixie plucked heavily on his heartstrings.
COMMUNITY SERVICE?
Edie crouched behind the barrel of half-priced undies and pondered what Trotter had said.
Jonah was working off a community service obligation? She started to nibble a fingernail but stopped herself.
Peeking around the top of the panty barrel, she saw that Jonah and Mr. Trotter had disappeared.
A quick glance at her wristwatch told her they only had twenty-five minutes left for lunch. Now, with her curiosity about Jonah stoked to high intensity, she simply had to speak to him.
“Miss Preston!”
Startled by Trotter’s rapid-fire pronunciation of her name, Edie leapfrogged a foot into the air.
“Explain yourself, Miss Preston, just what are you doing on the floor in ladies’ underwear?”
“Hi,” Edie said perkily, peering into Trotter’s unwavering stare as if for the second time that day the store manager hadn’t caught her in an embarrassing position.
“Don’t give me that goody-goody smile of yours. What are you doing here?”
“I’m on my break.” Edie scrambled to her feet.
Trotter rested his hands on polyester-clad hips. “Haven’t you read the new policy I posted on the bulletin board in the employees’ lounge this morning?”
“New policy?” Edie kept a pleasant smile on her face.
“Employees are not to roam over the store. You either stay in the lounge or in your own department. No visiting with your girlfriends in housewares; no gossiping in shoes.”
“What?” Edie straightened herself to her full five foot two and stared the man straight in the eyes. She couldn’t believe this latest outrage. Trotter had instituted policies since he’d become manager that seemed to have no purpose beyond alienating the employees. “That’s utterly ridiculous.”
“Not so ridiculous, Miss Preston, when one considers that over ten thousand dollars worth of merchandise was pilfered from the store.”
“Why are you punishing the employees for shoplifters?”
“I have every reason to believe that the thieves are employees.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” She blinked at him.
“I’m deadly serious. In fact, I’m beginning to wonder if those men from the halfway house that you talked Carmichael into hiring are behind the thefts.
They’ve been here a week, and that’s exactly how long the thefts have been going on. And if it turns out that they’re involved, I’ll have to ask for your resignation.”
Edie opened her mouth to protest, then realized it was pointless arguing with the man who obviously had his mind made up. She didn’t think any of the three guys she’d met during her last clinical rotation at Rascal Treatment Center were involved. She had truly believed in them, and they had wanted so badly to go straight. That’s why she’d begged first Carmichael and then Trotter to hire them.
Then again, one never knew for sure.
Pensively, Edie left the department store and zigzagged around the gift-laden shoppers to Lu
lu’s Cafeteria. She hung around the door, scanning the lunchtime crowd for Jonah.
“Hi,” he murmured in her ear.
Edie whirled to face him. She hadn’t heard him come up behind her. The man was as sneaky as a cat on the hunt.
“Hi, yourself.”
“Hungry?” He took her by the elbow and guided her toward the line, a medley of aromas scenting the air.
“Starving.” For information.
Edie tried not to be dazzled by Jonah’s strong fingers, but her body possessed a mind of its own. Her elbow heated, next her forearm, then her shoulder, and the next thing she knew every nerve ending kindled.
“Whew,” she said, twisting her arm from his grasp. “It’s awfully warm in here.”
“Probably the heat lamps.”
No, that wasn’t it. What made her skin catch fire and sizzle like bacon on a hot griddle was the enigmatic Jonah Stevenson.
“Here you go.” He handed her a green plastic tray—that was still warm from the dishwasher and smelled of industrial strength soap—and silverware rolled up in a red cloth napkin.
“Thanks.”
He smiled, and her knees melted. She barely managed to load her tray with a tossed salad, iced tea, baked halibut, green beans, and cherry pie for dessert. At the register, she fumbled in her pocket for money, but Jonah beat her to it. Leaning over, he paid the cashier for their meals.
“Oh,” Edie protested. “I can’t allow you to pay for my lunch.”
“And why not?” His blue eyes danced merrily.
“Because I invited you,” she argued, plucking a twenty and a ten-dollar bill from her pocket. “I’m paying.”
She felt guilty letting him spend his money on her. If he was working out a community service obligation, it probably meant he didn’t have extra cash to spare.
The cashier had already rung up their purchases and passed Jonah his change.
“Wait a minute, I’m paying,” Edie insisted.
“Hush, Edie, it’s taken care of.”
She didn’t need him to take care of her. He was the one down on his luck, not the other way around. “But I insist.”
“You’re holding up the line.” Jonah picked up his tray and headed into the dining area, leaving her standing with her hands on her hips. “You can pay for lunch tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder.
Lunch tomorrow?
Edie thrilled to the thought. They’d be having lunch together tomorrow?
Pulse clipping fast through her veins, she picked up her tray and followed him to a table in the far corner. When she arrived, he pulled out the chair for her.
What a gentleman.
Okay, Edie Renee Preston, slow down.
So what if he is the most fascinating, handsome man she’d ever met? So what if he paid for her lunch and pulled out her chair for her. So what if he’s good with kids and has the most amazing tushy. He’d also done something bad. Not terribly bad, of course, or he’d be in jail, but he was walking down the wrong road.
But Edie, with her abundant curiosity and her heartfelt desire to rescue anyone and anybody in need, aimed to change that.
She eased into the chair. Jonah leaned over to remove the plates and bowls from her tray.
The festive scent of his cologne teased her nose. He smelled like Christmas—gingerbread cookies and peppermint sticks and evergreen trees. His shoulder, encased in that nubby wool sweater, grazed softly against her cheek, and she drew in a deep breath.
The memory of their kiss in the midst of the crowded department store sent a tingly shiver through her.
Ack! What was this strange, new desire overwhelming her?
Edie tipped her head and peeked up at him. Her eyes focused on his lips. Darn it! Why wasn’t there a nest of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling of Lulu’s Cafeteria?
After Jonah put their trays away, he came back and sat across from her. She watched as he spread his napkin in his lap, stirred sugar into his tea, and added ketchup to his French fries.
“I want to apologize again for my behavior this morning,” she said, flattening her own napkin in her lap. “I completely misunderstood what was happening. You know, with the Santa suit and the fleas.”
He swallowed a bite of his cheeseburger before replying. “No harm done.”
Jonah possessed perfect table manners. Unlike the last disastrous blind date Edie had been on.
That guy had talked incessantly the entire time he’d chewed his food, bragging how rich he’d become managing fixed-income portfolios. Edie wasn’t even sure what a fixed-income portfolio manager was, but at the time it struck her that getting rich off people on fixed incomes was inappropriate. Not to mention that she’d had to repeatedly dodge the food particles he’d liberally sprayed across the table at her.
“I have a tendency to get carried away sometimes,” she said. “My mom tells me to be careful, that it’s easy to let enthusiasm turn into zealousness. It’s something I’m working on.”
“I don’t think you’re overzealous. Just passionate.”
Edie beamed at his compliment. “Why, thank you.”
This guy was the stuff of daydreams. Except for that community service thing.
“So are you really going to buy that boy a bicycle for Christmas?”
“Sure.” Jonah shrugged.
“Why?”
“Why not?” His eyes met hers.
“It’s a lot of money and effort. Why that boy?”
“He said his father left the family, that his mother couldn’t afford to celebrate Christmas. I felt sorry for him. Is that a crime?”
Jonah sounded defensive. He didn’t fool Edie for a moment. She knew he didn’t like showing his soft side. Many men didn’t. They were afraid that feelings made them vulnerable.
“May I ask you a personal question?”
“If I don’t have to answer.”
“How come you’re working as a store Santa? I mean you don’t seem the type.”
Jonah leaned back and draped one arm over his chair. He narrowed his eyes and quirked a smirk like a very naughty boy. “Are you sure you really want to know?”
Edie nodded.
“Even if it portrays me in a poor light?”
He was going to tell her the truth. She had to give him points for honesty. “Yes.”
“Court-ordered community service,” he said.
“You committed a crime?”
He nodded and winked, suddenly appearing very dangerous in those dark clothes.
“What on earth did you do?” she whispered, her heart thudding a thousand miles an hour as she waited for his answer with bated breath.
Chapter Four
“I borrowed a car without permission.” Jonah gave her the official story supplied by Chief West to Mr. Trotter.
“You stole a car?” Edie stared.
He hated dashing her high expectations of him. Why her opinion mattered, he couldn’t say. But oddly, it did. “Well, I did intend on returning the car. Let’s say it was something of a joy ride.”
“That’s not so bad.” She gave him a half-hearted smile.
“And then I sort of...accidentally destroyed it.”
“Was the car expensive?”
“A sixty-thousand-dollar automobile.”
Edie winced.
“Yeah.”
“Why’d you do it?” She leaned forward and propped her chin in her upturned palms.
“Boredom, I guess. The judge gave me a choice. Sixty days in the county lockup or make restitution on the car and spend a hundred and twenty hours playing Santa. Not a difficult decision.”
Edie shook her head. “But why did you steal the car in the first place? You’ve got everything going for you—looks, charm, brains. Why would you jeopardize your future for a costly joy ride? And at your age. It’s not as if you’re a misguided teen.”
A certain look came into her eye. The same look he’d frequently seen on his dear old Aunt Polly’s face when she’d given up her dreams to go to t
he South Pacific as a missionary to stay in Texas and take care of him.
The ardent look of a saint intent upon saving the sinner.
“Uh, how did your wife take the news?” she asked.
He grinned, amused. So this attraction he felt was not one-sided. He’d guessed as much when he kissed her. She was fishing about for his marital status.
“I never made that particular mistake,” he drawled.
“You consider marriage a mistake?”
He almost said for policemen, yes, but bit his tongue in time. What was it about her that made him want to spill his guts? “The divorce rate in this country is fifty percent.”
“But that means that fifty percent of the couples make it.” Edie was a glass-half-full kind of gal, no denying it.
“That’s true.”
She studied him a moment. “I can help you, Jonah.”
He leaned back in his chair and stared at her. That gorgeous mop of curly honey-blond hair, those trusting green eyes, that round, determined little chin. Jonah groaned inwardly. “Oh? I wasn’t aware that I need help.”
“I have my master’s degree in psychology, and I’m working toward my doctorate. I do know a bit about personality disorders.”
He couldn’t suppress his smirk. “Are you diagnosing me?”
“Well, no, of course not. I don’t know you well enough to do that. You’ve got so much going for you, and yet you do something dumb like steal a car. Why?”
“Maybe I’m just rotten to the core.”
“Oh, piffle.”
“Piffle?” He raised an eyebrow. “Is that some sophisticated psychological jargon?”
“You’re making fun of me.”
“Maybe a little.” She was fun to tease. So earnest in her campaign to regenerate his image.
“What do you do for a living when you’re not playing Santa?” she asked.
“This and that,” he hedged. He didn’t like to lie, even though it was often a necessary ingredient of his job. “Never could settle on one career path.”
She nodded. “I suspected as much.”
It was all he could do to keep from bursting into laughter. Her seriousness was genuine. She really thought she had him pigeonholed.
The woman was a reformer.