Holly McIntyre released a slow, soft breath. She had the power to terminate his community hours right that second if she so chose, yet a part of her hated to see him go.
Alex was too handsome, too rich, too egotistical for her liking. She did, however, believe a good man hid behind his humbug and horniness. She had one day to draw it out.
She held out her garden-gloved hand. “Not one complaint, Alex, and we have a deal.”
He took her hand, tugged her close, and dropped a light kiss on her forehead. He was all smiles now, his eagerness to behave almost comical.
Holly pulled off her gloves and glanced at her watch. “It’s late, time for bed,” she said.
“I can’t wait to return to the loft and curl up in bed.”
She knew the bed was too small for his big body. She’d seen him working the kinks from his neck and shoulders each day. She’d watched him stretch, caught his muscles ripple. He had a killer body.
“Get in my car and I’ll drive you home,” she offered.
“The Volkswagen’s about the size of my bedroom.”
Twelve hours later, Alex was again dressed as Santa and Holly wore the painted wooden head of the nutcracker. Alex had wakened cheerful for a change. He’d grinned through two cups of black coffee and four donuts.
Holly was surprised his red velvet outfit still fit. The man liked his sweets.
He blew her away with his boisterous ho-ho-ho. While he still looked more Chippendale than North Pole, he welcomed the kids with open arms. A few even got hugs.
The man could behave, she noted, when he wanted to. He just needed the proper incentive. If leaving town early meant so much to him, she’d keep her word and talk to her uncle.
Judge Hathaway would be lenient. Despite what Alex thought, her uncle was a fair man. He’d sat on the bench for forty years, admired and respected by the community.
The excited mood in the mall turned giddy when her cousin Hank delivered the mistletoe arch. People started giggling, gossiping, and going in for kisses. A lot of money would be raised for charity.
At the end of Alex’s shift, a third line had formed near the arch, all single women. “What’s going on?” he asked as he pushed off his chair.
Holly lowered the jaw on her wooden head and explained, “The ladies are waiting to kiss Santa.”
Alex’s surprise was almost comical. The man’s concentration had been on the kids and not on the females dying to kiss him. There was even a set of triplets.
He looked at Holly. “Can I take off my beard?”
“Not in front of the children.”
“I’ll get lipstick on my mustache.”
Her heart clenched. “Santa’s known for pecks on the cheek. You don’t have to French them.”
“Do I get extra Brownie points for no tongue?”
“Behave, Alex.” Her tone was stern.
“Got a breath mint?”
She held up a candy cane. “Peppermint?”
“Gag me with a spoon.” He broke off a tiny bite, freshened his mouth. “Let the kissing begin.”
Holly’s day was done, yet instead of changing into her street clothes, she stood off to the side and watched as Alex Boxer satisfied sixty women. He’d jacked the price to five dollars a kiss, all in the name of charity. No one seemed to mind.
The line moved snail slow as he flattered and teased every female. Most of the ladies were blushing as they rose on tiptoe for their Santa smooch.
Alex had been right, Holly noted, the longer he kissed, the more lipstick rubbed off on his mustache and beard. A few ladies tugged his whiskers aside to take his mouth more deeply. Holly wondered about the best way to remove shades of hot pink and climax red from the fake white curls.
A sigh escaped, and her heart turned suddenly sad. An unexpected emptiness expanded within her chest.
She felt half, not whole. The sensation made her body ache.
She was witnessing what Alex Boxer did best: he charmed women and made them want him. Dozens had kissed him, then gotten back in line, anticipating a second time. The five dollars appeared money well spent.
Twenty minutes into the kissing and Holly’d had enough. The nutcracker costume was hot; the wooden head weighed heavy on her shoulders. The time had come to deliver the holiday baskets that Hank had stacked and packed in her car after he’d set up the arch. She would make the rounds without Alex.
Even if the deliveries took longer than expected, Christmas carols would be sung late into the night at the community center. Agnes Smith would play the piano until her carpal tunnel acted up.
Back in the Jingle Bell Shop, Holly took in the silence. The storage room was quiet without Alex. She missed his growling, grumpiness, and sex appeal. He was easy on the eyes, and his suggestive humor turned her on. She liked the way he kissed.
He’d soon be leaving. She already missed him. Holiday wouldn’t be the same without him.
She struggled with the wooden head and set it on a corner table. She unbuttoned her red jacket and let it hang open. She’d just kicked off her gold-glitter boots and dropped her baggy black pants when the side door flew open and Santa charged in.
His gaze swept her, and his grin turned naughty. “I’m suddenly jolly.”
She clutched the lapels of the jacket together but had nothing to cover her legs. His once-over skimmed from her peach bikini to her painted toes.
After gazing his fill, he jerked off his beard, dragging air into his lungs. “Between the closed-mouth kisses and mustache hair up my nose, I damn near suffocated.”
He looked pale, miserable, and sweaty.
Holly had never felt happier in her life. “How much money did you raise?” she asked.
Alex did a mental count. “Hank closed the arch at forty kisses. We made two hundred dollars.”
“There must have been some disappointed women.”
“My lips got tired.” He rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth. “The ladies kissed, then whispered their Christmas list. They wanted me to come down their chimney.”
He peeled off his skull cap, ran a hand through his hair. “No more kissing for today. We have holiday baskets to deliver—that takes pre ce dence.”
His words surprised her. “You remembered?”
“I would never forget what’s important to you.”
The man was being considerate. His expression revealed the depth of his sincerity. Gone was the cockiness, the arrogance, the swagger. For the moment, he appeared conscientious and helpful.