“How’s the ice cream shop?” Hank asked her.
Holly cut Alex a look. “I’ve added a new flavor called Swing and a Miss. It’s vanilla ice cream with chunks of red licorice and chips of peppermint.”
Alex pulled a face. “I hate peppermint.”
“I know.”
She looked smug, Alex mused, as if she’d struck him out. He didn’t take to scoreless innings. Home Run would have been a more appropriate flavor for her ice cream.
Hank straightened another foot of wire before he turned to Holly. “Will you be caroling at the community center tomorrow night?”
Holly drew up a step stool, needing extra height as she curved the wire near the top of the arch. “I’ll be there once the cookie baskets are delivered,” she said.
“Need help?” Hank offered. “Driving and dropping off could take hours.”
“We’ve got it covered.” Alex had found a way into their conversation. “Holly requested my assistance when we were making reindeer dust.” An outright lie and damn pathetic for a grown man to go to such lengths to date a woman.
Holly’s gaze narrowed on him. She could have busted him, but she was bred and born polite. Alex was known to hit low.
She cleared her throat, kept her cool. “You never fully committed,” she managed.
“I agreed after our kiss.”
Holly’s fingers froze on the twisted wire. Alex, on the other hand, kept right on working. He winked at her. “You were quite convincing, sweetheart.”
Hank shifted, looked uncomfortable.
Holly snapped off a piece of wire, shaped it like a noose. She looked ready to strangle him. “The kiss meant nothing,” she defended. “There was—”
“Tongue,” Alex interrupted. “You jingled my bells, babe.”
Hank swallowed hard, paled.
Holly inhaled sharply, blushed torch red.
Alex knew he was being a prick. He deserved Holly’s glare. Somehow she’d gotten to him, in a most unwelcome way. He could feel her around his heart and under his skin. He refused to analyze her indefinable effect.
He’d never done deep or serious, yet he hated being the odd man out as she discussed small-town news with the moose. Alex had been excluded and wanted to reclaim ground.
He needed to regain her attention and hold it.
Even if he had to play dirty.
Hank was too much of a gentleman to cause a scene. The man cleared his throat and went on to ask, “How about Sue Schaffer’s Christmas party? Need a date?”
“Holly invited me this morning.” Alex was knee deep in lies. “She’s buying a new red dress, one that shows Christmas cleavage.”
Hank’s eyes popped, and Holly’s jaw dropped.
“I invited you?” She was slow to recover.
“You don’t remember?” Alex feigned hurt. “We were at the Jingle Bell Shop, putting on our costumes. I was standing in my boxer briefs, and you wore lavender panties. You mentioned the party as we were checking each other out.”
The corners of her mouth pulled tight. “We had just returned from show and tell at the elementary school,” she quickly explained to Hank. “Alex took a shower in the loft and I was downstairs, changing behind the screen. It was all perfectly innocent.”
“I found it intimate,” Alex reflected. “I’m a fan of demi-cups and bikinis. How about you, Hank?”
Moose Man’s jaw shifted, but he didn’t share his preference in women’s underwear. Alex caught the man’s hands shaking as he continued with the wire.
Hank was a decent man, Alex had to admit. The moose didn’t discuss undies in mixed company, and he no doubt believed sex belonged behind closed doors. Alex was certain Hank slept in pajamas and socks and stuck with missionary.
Alex believed Holly needed a little naughty with her nice. Experimentation raised the temperature in the bedroom. He liked his sex hot.
In fairness to the man, Alex knew that Hank would never break the law or the speed limit. He wouldn’t fantasize about blond twins in Miami. He’d be happy with Holly.
Holly. Masculine jealousy shot bone deep, irritating in its intensity. Alex hated the feeling. It was new and sharp and stuck him in the heart. He wasn’t used to coming in second when he compared himself to another man.
His breath hitched, and his palms dampened. Hell, he’d only known the woman two days, yet the sensation of losing someone he’d never truly had bent him low.
He shouldn’t give a rat’s ass whom Holly liked or whom she dated. For some strange reason, it mattered. Too damn much. She was about to complicate his life. Big time.
The way Holly now looked at Hank irked Alex. She didn’t want Hank to think poorly of her. Alex decided she must like Hank a lot.
Alex sucked it up, made repairs. “Our kiss was one between friends,” he retracted. “The three-paneled screen protected Holly when she changed clothes.”
Hank stopped working, stared at Alex. “Stop pawing the ground, dude. We don’t have to lock horns over Holly. There’s no need to explain your actions. You’re her business, not mine.”
Alex was lost. “I thought you were a couple.”
Hank had the nerve to grin. “We’re cousins. We look out for each other, so stop being such an ass, Santa.”
Cousins? A fact Holly could have easily mentioned when they’d first been introduced, yet she’d skipped that part. He’d made a fool of himself over her. Alex didn’t like being played.
Holly couldn’t look at him. Her face was flushed, and her hands were all thumbs as she threw her energy into untwisting the wire at the top of the arch.
He’d get even with her, Alex silently swore. He’d donate a pile of one-dollar bills to kiss the nutcracker. He’d make love to her mouth until their lips went numb.
Another twenty minutes, and the twelve-foot arch curved perfectly. Hanging the sprigs of mistletoe came next. Alex tied bright red-and-green striped bows around the sprigs, then attached them to the wire. He felt like a floral designer.
The arch was soon transformed into a sweet, festive bower of leathery evergreen and waxy white berries. Several longer sprigs of mistletoe hung along the top; the leaves provided the kissing couples a bit of privacy.
Project completed, Hank pulled off his gloves, picked up the empty cardboard box, and moved toward the garage door. “You two should initiate the arch,” he cast over his shoulder, then was gone.