“Save the teddies for your Miami twins.” She kept her voice low. “Bare Essence has a two-for-one sale through the end of the week, a big bang for your buck.”
Alex Boxer rubbed his side. Holly’s elbow could’ve broken a rib. Damn, she was difficult.
He’d never worked so hard to get a woman into his bed. He wanted more than one evening—he’d planned three all-nighters. That would give him plenty of time to enjoy and pleasure her.
He cut her a glance. She looked pretty tonight with her blond hair styled in a French braid. Her brown eyes shone warmly; her lips were glossed a soft pink.
A red tunic slanted off her shoulder, the strap of a green tank top visible beneath. Clusters of holly berries backed the pockets of her white jeans. Strappy sandals showed off her artful pedicure: tiny Christmas trees decorated her toes. The lady was a walking, talking advertisement for the season.
He kept one eye on Holly as he assisted Edna Murdock with a batch of angel-pink divinity. He sampled several pieces of the fancy candy, which melted in his mouth.
A knock on the kitchen door drew his attention to a new arrival. Hank Conrad, the moose from the mall. He also owned Frosty’s on the boardwalk, Alex recalled. He hadn’t officially met the man, who now shouldered a large cardboard box and greeted the grannies with high spirits and holiday hugs.
He advertized his good cheer by wearing a Santa hat and a T-shirt scripted with “Dreaming of a White Christmas.”
It was doubtful that Hank would get his wish, Alex mused. They were in Florida, where sunburns trumped snowflakes.
Holly smiled up at the sandy-haired man with the lanky build. She seemed genuinely glad to see him. There was a cozy familiarity between them.
Alex’s gut tightened when Hank set down the box and draped his arm about Holly’s shoulders. She leaned into his side. There were long looks and intimate whispers. They acted like a couple.
Alex drummed his fingers on the kitchen counter, waited for an introduction. It was damn long in coming.
“Alex Boxer, Hank Conrad,” she finally managed.
Hank nodded to Alex. “Hello, Santa.”
“Moose,” Alex acknowledged.
“I came to decorate the mistletoe arch,” Hank explained. “Tomorrow we set the arch by Santa’s Workshop. It’s time for holiday kisses.”
“It’s tradition,” said Edna Murdock. “The town gets in the spirit.”
“It costs a dollar to stand under the arch.” Greta Taylor slid the last batch of mocha-cinnamon meltaways off a cookie sheet. “The money goes to charity.”
“Everyone has hot lips,” Edna added. “Friends, lovers, married couples. No one resists.”
“No one?” Alex looked at Holly.
“Mistletoe legitimizes holiday kissing,” Edna chuckled.
Alex liked Holiday’s way of thinking. He’d lay down a few singles to kiss the nutcracker. Hell, he’d drop a hundred if necessary, knowing she couldn’t refuse.
Shortly thereafter, Greta Taylor started packing the Christmas baskets with cookies and containers of reindeer dust. Edna’s turn came next; she took over and wrapped the handles with big red satin bows.
“The line for the arch will be as long as the one to see Santa.” Greta grinned.
“There’s a lot of teasing and blushing,” Edna added.
“And most donate more than a dollar,” said Hank.
Everyone’s thoughts ran to kissing until Holly went to the sink to wash her hands. She’d bottled the last of the reindeer dust, and the glass containers sparkled with glitter. Santa would have the perfect landing strips for his sleigh.
Her hands now dried, she lightly touched Hank’s arm. “I’ll help with the arch,” she offered.
“So will I,” Alex surprised himself by saying. “I’m good with arches.” He knew nothing about arches.
Holly’s raised eyebrow doubted his capabilities.
Hank gave an offhanded shrug and led Alex to the garage where twelve feet of wire twisted like a pretzel. “Edna backed her car over the arch last week,” Moose Man said as he set the cardboard box filled with mistletoe on the cement floor. “It needs to be restructured before we can attach the sprigs.”
Hank shoved his hands into work gloves, then held out pairs for Holly and Alex. “Be careful with the wire—it’s sharp in places.”
Holly accepted a flowered pair of gardening gloves. Alex, however, worked best bare-handed. He didn’t need sissy gloves. His hands were strong, rough, callused.
Holly and Hank tackled one end of the arch and Alex began untangling the other. Small cuts caused his thumb to bleed, but he hated to ask for a Band-Aid. He’d refused the gloves and wasn’t about to complain.
They worked in silence until Hank asked, “Has Libby Baker had her baby?”
Holly nodded, smiling. “A boy, Raymond Jay, born late yesterday afternoon. He weighed six pounds, seven ounces. Her husband stood on the corner of Main and Third and handed out cigars. I’m sure he stopped traffic.”
“I saw Jane Palmer at the bank this morning. Her golden retriever had six puppies,” Hank said. “You’ve been offered the pick of the litter.”
Holly looked thoughtful. “Might be the perfect Christmas gift to myself.”
“I’d buy the pup if you’d let me,” offered Hank.
Alex watched Holly’s face soften. “Save your money. The T-shirt shop beside Frosty’s on the Boardwalk is going out of business next month. You could use the money to expand.”
Alex listened as the two of them hashed over square footage, and the idea of adding a short list of sandwiches to Hank’s menu. Holly made sound suggestions; she had a good head for business. Alex liked the way she looked at the expansion from all angles. She listed both pros and cons and commented on the best local contractors. She was damn smart.
Most of the women of Alex’s acquaintance partied and passed out. Two-syllable words were the extent of their vocabulary. The sex and gratification were immediate. Dates were out the door before dawn.
He eavesdropped as Holly and Hank discussed other store owners, the refurbishment of the Boardwalk, and close friends they had in common. It was small-town talk, centered on grandmothers and their knitting, the weather, as well as the new stock of beach-and-boardwalk postcards being sold at the Holiday Tourist Center.
Alex felt excluded. The hometown chatter rode his last nerve. He had an unsettling urge to bump Hank aside, so Holly would focus on him again.