All I Want For Christmas
By
Denise A. Agnew
Copyright 2011 Denise A. Agnew
Smashwords Edition
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Cover design, copy edit and ebook format done by NimbleForce Creations.
Dedication
To my husband Terry, who has always encouraged me on this writing journey.
To my critique partner Selena Robins, who has always been a fantastic friend.
To Stacy Chitwood, whose strength is an inspiration.
Chapter 1
“Ow!”
Nick Claussen winced in pain and stared at the five-year-old boy in overalls who persistently tugged on Nick’s long white beard.
“Hey, you ain’t really Santa Claus,” the boy said as the beard slipped from Nick’s chin.
Nick quickly pushed the itchy beard back in place and schooled his lips into an indulgent grin.
God, he loved this job.
“Now what does Danny want for Christmas?” Nick asked the squirming boy.
Ignoring Nick’s attempt to get him on track, Danny yanked on Nick’s white mustache. This time the fake hair stuck securely to Nick’s upper lip.
“Ouch! Uh, son, please don’t pull Santa’s hair, okay?”
“Here. I’ll take him,” said a soft female voice. “Sorry, I’m late.”
Nick started, surprised by the pleasant sensations that zinged through him at the sound of the melodious, smooth-as-silk tone. He looked over his shoulder as the woman came around the side of the Santa “throne” and snatched up the boy.
About time Santa’s little helper appeared. The mall manager had assured Nick his elf assistant would be on time to help him with the long gaggle of children that had formed the minute the mall opened. When no elf appeared, and not wanting to disappoint the kids and their parents, he’d started his Santa routine.
But after a couple hours of having children whisper secret Christmas wishes in his ear, Nick discovered this Santa suit operated like an oven and made him feel like a stuffed turkey.
Nick watched as the elf, dressed in a green velvet outfit with a short skirt, green tights, and pointy red shoes, carried the squirming kid back to his mother. As the elf turned to come back, he could see little of her features under the mask that covered her eyes and part of her nose.
The elf’s short skirt revealed her long legs to advantage. Determined, quick, and no-nonsense, her stride flowed effortlessly. With the aplomb of a businessman cataloging the competition, he seized a picture in his mind of her curved proportions.
Once she reached him, she leaned down to whisper in his ear, “Let’s hope the rest of these stinkers are a bit more tame.”
He couldn’t see all her face, and her hair was bundled under that small green hat, but her warmth and humor intrigued him. Her soft perfume teased his nostrils, and he took a deep breath. Drawn to the velvet voice, Nick gazed up into her eyes.
Caramel brown. Sweet, warm, and smiling. Her nose was small. His gaze snagged on her generous lower lip. A mouth that appeared luscious. Tasty.
Nick felt a jolt that reminded him of the time he’d been ten and had accidentally touched a frayed cord on an electrical appliance.
Before he could reply, she ushered another child onto his lap. The small blonde girl couldn’t be more than five. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the elf watching him.
“Well, hello,” Nick said, smiling. “What’s your name?”
The small girl twisted a long length of hair around her index finger and looked at him with wide eyes. “Tisha Grant.”
“Tisha, have you been a good girl this year?”
She nodded, continuing to toy with her hair. “Uh-huh.”
“Good. What would you like this year for Christmas?”
“A Debbie Doodle doll.”
“That’s an interesting name. What does she do? Anything special?”
“She doodles in her diapers.”
Nick’s eyes widened and he laughed. “I see. And what else would you like?”
“I’d like mommy and daddy to live together again.”
Nick winced and glanced up at the woman who stood at the front of the line waiting for her daughter. The woman looked slightly stricken, almost embarrassed. Oh, God. He hadn’t expected anything like this. He cleared his throat.
Buried under hard work and reckless sports, his memories surfaced. Pain pinched his psyche and threatened to overwhelm him.
“Well, honey...” He swallowed hard, searching frantically for the right answer. This sure as hell wasn’t anything like working a meeting, or wheeling a deal. “Honey, I’m sure your mommy and daddy love you very much, and that no matter what happens, they will always love you.”
“But they’re not together,” Tisha said, her lower lip sticking out. Tears trembled on her lashes.
An arrow of sadness dented his heart. If one thing could get to him it would be a crying kid. Compelled to look at the elf, he saw a deep frown on her lips, and a question in her eyes. As if she were asking him if he needed help. He could hand the girl to the elf and then let the mother take care of Tisha. A portion of his heart yawned wide. He looked back at Tisha and gave her a gentle hug.
“Honey, they love you no matter where they are, together or apart. You mustn’t ever forget that. And Santa loves you, too.”
Then he did something unplanned, something he couldn’t have rehearsed this morning when he looked in the mirror perfecting his deep, booming Santa laugh. He kissed the little girl softly on the forehead. To his surprise, she giggled, and twined her small arms around his neck. Then she released him quickly.
He felt his heart do a jump, like it might stop. Tisha grinned, then laughed again. “Your beard tickles.”
Nick couldn’t help it. He laughed, the Santa guffaw forgotten, his honest amusement flowing out unhindered. Gratefully, he accepted how the laughter eased the tightness grabbing his throat. With effort he took a deep breath.
“Santa’s beard has to tickle,” he said.
Tisha reached up and touched the fake hair and for a moment he cringed, wondering if she, too, would yank on it. But she caressed it as if she were petting a puppy.
“Why, Santa?”
“It’s a special, secret Santa thing.” He gave her a last hug.
Someone cleared his or her throat. When Nick looked up, Tisha’s mother stood over him, face hard, contorted into a chill that made him feel like he’d done something nasty.
“Come along, Tisha,” the mother said, taking her out of Nick’s arms quickly.
What was the lady’s problem?
As the woman walked away, the elf approached. The smile on the elf’s face became more spectacular, more intriguing. In that instant he looked into her hot cocoa eyes and experienced another shock of voltage.
She leaned down and spoke softly. “I think mamma bear got a little worried.”
“Why?”
“Because you hugged and kissed her daughter.”
It dawned on him what she meant, and indignation knifed through him. “You mean she thinks I’m a pervert or something?”
The elf shrugged. “She might think that.”
She smiled again, bestowing him with an understanding, reassuring look. Suddenly it didn’t matter what the mother thought. The elf moved on to retrieve the next child, and he shook himself, wondering what had gotten into him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d reacted like this to any woman. Even Candace, who had knocked him over with her stunning sexuality, and had been his steady date for functions and holiday parties for several months, didn’t have that special...something. What was it? Elf magic?
Nick took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Yeah, Claussen, elf magic. You’re letting this Santa stuff turn you into a sentimental fool.
Sentimentality. Humbug. He didn’t want or need that right now. Not ever. He hadn’t retreated to Russel, Colorado so he could cling to the past. Instead he’d come here to relax and regroup. Excavating old memories would bring pain, and he’d had plenty of that in the last two years.
He shifted in his chair and barely suppressed a groan. With any luck, the kids in front of him had much easier requests. Fortunately, his wish was granted. Dozens of kids later, shift change came, and Nick eased his tired butt out of the abominably hard wood chair that served as a Santa throne.
By the time a new Santa presided over Santa’s palace, Nick was ready to thank the elf for her hard work. He looked around, and then he saw a slightly plumper, shorter elf standing next to the throne with the new Santa. Damn, how had she disappeared so quickly?
Glancing around, Nick caught sight of a small green hat bobbing down one section of the mall, surrounded by multitudes of shoppers. He started in that direction, intent on catching up to her. She moved at a good clip, and the black boots Nick wore clomped loosely on his feet, impeding his stride. Determined, he kept sight of the hat until he stepped in front of a freight train.
As he impacted with the bear-size body, he staggered back and almost fell flat on his can. But the bear reached out and grabbed his arms, preventing him from falling.
“Claussen, I always knew you were an accident waiting to happen,” the bear said, his voice as intimidating as his Nordic stature. Only the irreverent grin under his droopy mustache gave away his amusement.
“And you, Pete, are a pain in the ass.” Nick smiled as he peered around his gargantuan friend. The elf had disappeared. Nick sighed. “I just lost the elf of my dreams.”
Pete’s bushy blond brows spiked up and disappeared into the fringe of his thick hair. “Don’t tell me you’ve been hitting on my elves already? Have you no shame? Can’t leave you alone with a woman a second—”
“Stow it, Pete.” Nick jerked off his thick gloves. “Tell me who she is. I want to thank her for her help this morning.”
Pete Mulligan nodded, a firm smile planted on his handsome face. “Pixie.”
“What?”
“Pixie.”
“I thought she was an elf.”
Pete put his hands on his hips. “Same difference. She’s an elf, but she uses the name Pixie when she’s acting the part of elf.”
Pixie. Nick liked the sound of that, and it fit the magical effect she’d had on his senses.
Before he could say anything else, Pete glanced at his watch and said, “Better hurry up, Claussen. I didn’t hire you to stand around all day. Get out there and do some Christmas shopping. I want this season to be the mall’s best in years.”
Nick shrugged, a sudden pall erasing the elation he’d experienced seconds ago. “Shopping isn’t one of my strong points. I usually end up getting people the wrong thing.”
“That’s because you wait until the last minute and don’t plan.”
“I’ve got three weeks before Christmas. Plenty of time.”
“Humph. Well, whatever you do, don’t forget my present this year. You owe me.” He slapped Nick on the back.
“Yeah, yeah. Rub it in.”
Pete consulted his watch again. “Hey, my lunch is over. Stop by the office this evening and you can have dinner with Marge and me at that new French restaurant on the outside terrace.”
Only after Pete lumbered away did Nick recall he hadn’t obtained the elf’s real name. Impatience zinged through him, and he almost chased after Pete to demand the true identity of the elf and how he could find her. Instead he forced himself to slow down.
Take it easy. Pull back. Get a grip, Claussen.
Wasn’t that why he’d taken this job in the first place?
He needed the change of routine. A distraction from the void that had hit home as he’d gathered for Thanksgiving with his family this year.
As he’d sat at the Thanksgiving table with his mother, father, three brothers, two sisters, sisters-in-law, brothers-in-law, and nieces and nephews, he’d experienced an unprecedented emptiness. Where he’d always found extreme enjoyment with his huge family during holidays, now the rigmarole felt trite. Nick thought he might know why, but he didn’t think admitting the truth would make things easier.
With his usual dive-in-and-swim attitude, he’d analyzed his situation. But unlike the mastery he experienced in his position as an executive in the family business, he couldn’t shake the sense that he’d never learn to enjoy holidays again.
Two years should have been enough time to recover from the pain of losing Deena. He should have soaked up his huge family’s love and support. And he had, the first Christmas without Deena. In the second year without Deena, the pain had bounced back full force.
Not a pretty thought or a comfortable feeling.
So he’d moved temporarily to Russel, hoping a scenery change might repair what a loving family hadn’t accomplished.
Cooling the competitive jets he used full blast at Claussen Resorts hadn’t been easy. Nick had left his business partner, his brother Mason, in charge when he’d made the decision to leave Denver and hightail it to the mountain town.
Now, as he headed toward the staff locker rooms, Nick looked around at the thick swarm of shoppers that rushed about the mall. Even in the midst of all the craziness that went with the Christmas season, he liked it here.
Early enough in the shopping season people had smiles on their faces. He wanted to feel the same way, but what he’d told Pete was true. Hopeless at selecting presents, he delayed buying for as long as possible.
Just before he reached the staff area, he noted the bookstore that he’d planned to explore since arriving in town. Recalling that his niece Edie loved to read, he decided exactly where he’d shop once he’d had lunch and gotten out of his cumbersome duds.
Abby Manners couldn’t stop thinking about Santa Claus. Something about the round, red-and-white-suited fellow inspired her. As Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas played on the radio, she hummed along, getting into a rhythm as she shelved books in the mystery section. The store remained quiet and snug. Elf Books might be small, but it stocked a wide variety of books and made up in hospitality what it lacked in quantity. Abby and her partner made sure the store looked comfortable and cozy.
The old world ambiance, in stark contrast to the cool metal and glass interiors of most mall stores, attracted visitors. Overstuffed chairs, dark wood shelves, and complementary coffee beckoned to weary shoppers in the crazy season.
Stepping onto the ladder in front of her, she wondered again about the man in the Santa suit.
What made this Santa different than the one she’d worked with during Christmas last year? Maybe it was the way he’d responded to the children, the way they’d smiled after talking to him. Well, okay, that little kid who’d pulled Santa’s beard had ticked her off, but Santa had handled him with relative ease. As if he were used to children and liked them.
But, no, that couldn’t be it.
This was something more. A visceral feeling.
When she’d looked into his deep cobalt eyes, and watched his lips curve into a lopsided grin, surprise had blasted through her. A warm congeniality had heightened her emotions in a way she hadn’t experienced before.
Abby dropped a book on the floor and had to descend the ladder to retrieve the tome. As she climbed back up the ladder a lingering doubt about the Santa’s goodness remained in her mind. Unlike Becca Medino, her friend and co-owner of the bookstore, Abby couldn’t shake an inherent mistrust. She’d felt this way since childhood, and her attitude had kept her from making more than one bad decision, personally and professionally. She had no intention of lowering her drawbridge anytime soon.
A memory of childhood Christmases tugged at her. Kindness and cheerfulness sometimes cloaked a real person’s soul. Avarice and spite could hide under a charitable guise. She knew that too well.
Descending the ladder again, she retrieved the box at her feet and moved to the children’s section. Arranging another ladder to reach the top shelves, she shelved children’s Christmas stories. Suddenly she spied a cover that made her pause.
Father Christmas. Not jolly Santa, but a drawing of old-style Saint Nick. She shuddered.
Santa had been more of a terror than a pleasant experience for Abby. Therapy when she’d reached adulthood had remedied her irrational fear of Old Saint Nick. Forcing herself to work in close proximity with Santa at the mall two years in a row had assured Abby the odd phobia had disappeared for good.
As she continued to hum a tune, her spirit lightened slightly. But only slightly. Lately she’d clamored for something unreachable. An indefinable need that gnawed at her like a beaver chewed on wood. The teeth marks in her psyche hurt. She’d spent a year working side by side with Becca. So far the road had included pitfalls and anxiety, but they had built a healthy customer base.
Yet with every Christmas she spent alone, she found the holiday more arduous. Like a grizzly, she wanted to hibernate through the crazy Christmas season. This year in particular, she wanted to hide from everything she didn’t feel with as much depth as she should. Faith, love, hope, and charity.
Abby knew this Christmas season had to be different than all the rest. She needed to do something special. She’d decided to decorate her Victorian home like crazy, turning her house into a holiday showcase that wouldn’t fail to cheer her heart.
Realizing she wasted time daydreaming, she finished shelving books and descended the ladder. Satisfied with her work, Abby looked around the store and sighed. It felt good to be here among the scent of books, to hold them in her hands and savor contentment. Books remained dependable friends. They never left you and stayed at hand when needed. She headed back to the front counter.
“My, my, aren’t we cheerful?” Becca came from the back rooms. She smiled, her pretty, freckled face brightening. Of average height, Becca stood a couple inches shorter than Abby and several pounds thinner. In fact, Abby had often teased her about being a walking scarecrow.
Abby grinned. “You know what they say. ’Tis the season to be jovial.”
Becca swept her shoulder length curly red hair back from her face. “You’ve been darn right cranky the last week. Now you’re fluttering about the store like a hummingbird and singing Christmas carols. What gives?”
Abby shrugged. “I’m having a great day.” Then she smiled again. “Or a manic-depressive episode.” When Becca’s forehead wrinkled with a frown, Abby said, “I had a nice morning in my incarnation as an elf.”
Becca leaned on the counter. “What was special about this morning?”
“Santa Claus. I think I’ll enjoy working with him. He’s a sweet man.”
The curiosity in Becca’s eyes escalated. “Aha, so you’re in love with Santa Claus?”
Abby stepped behind the counter. “He’s a nice, old, soft man. Cheerful, fatherly. Hardly love material.”
Becca sighed. “Probably has love handles the size of Mount Everest.” Abby giggled and Becca joined her. “And stays at home Friday nights and plays cards with Rudolph.”
Abby laughed harder. “Stop. Besides, the customers are going to think we’re unprofessional.”
“Pfft! Go with it, Abby. Give yourself a break from being so contained all the time.”
The seriousness in her eyes gave Abby pause. “Sorry.”
Becca patted her hand. “I like seeing you happy, and I hate it when you try and stop yourself from enjoying life.”
Abby would have denied her friend’s assessment, but a customer came to the counter with a question. A few minutes later, a very tall man strolled into the store. She watched as he stopped at a rack of horror novels and perused the latest Dean Koontz hard cover.
Déjà vu flared within her. She shrugged the sensation away, but intermittently glanced at him, seeing things about him with each look that she hadn’t noticed before. Occasionally she stole glimpses of his profile. Strong, with a nose some might call large, his face gave new, tantalizing meaning to the word rugged. His expertly cut chestnut hair gleamed in the store lights and waved over his ears, long enough to cover the collar of the shirt he wore beneath his green sweater. His sweater covered broad shoulders and a wide chest and his jeans formed an intimate but not tight fit over his thighs, his hips, his...
Abby swallowed hard and stared.
The man had the best looking butt she’d ever seen.
Smiling conspiratorially to herself, she forced herself to look away. She wasn’t getting any work done ogling a poor, innocent shopper. A customer came to the front counter and distracted Abby for several minutes.
Later, from the corner of her eye, she saw someone arrive at the counter. She turned with a smile.
And her breath jammed in her throat like a fishbone.
The good-looking stranger placed three hardbacks and an audio book on the counter.
“Hi. I’d like to get these books and the angel calendar you’ve got hanging on the wall behind you,” he said in a deep voice that rolled over her with a liquid, husky undertone that reminded her of brandy and fires in a hearth.
Abby stared, unable to reply. Something familiar and disconcerting nagged at her memory. Where had she met him before? Was he a famous movie star? Certainly he possessed a rough handsomeness that would work on the big screen.
She took a deep breath and managed to croak, “Find everything you need?”
“Yes, thank you.” He gave a wide, knee-buckling grin that added to the striking depth of his eyes and made her heart beat a little faster.
Abby noted he’d picked the new Dean Koontz, a Christmas cookie cookbook, a techno thriller, and a mainstream novel. “Christmas shopping?”
He nodded. “You’re right. One of them is for me, though.”
“Let me guess. The techno thriller?”
A heart-stopping grin curved his lips. “The Christmas cookies.”
“Oh,” she murmured, feeling foolish for assuming. “I see.”
She rang up his purchases, bungled the first time and had to do it again. “Sorry.”
The man didn’t appear the least perturbed. “No problem.”
As Abby loaded his books and calendar in a bag, she asked, “Do you like angels?”
“What?”
“The angel calendar.”
Abby watched the way his mouth tilted. “It’s for my niece Jenny. She’s ten this Christmas and into everything angels.”
“A child after my own heart. I love angels.”
“Then I’ll have to introduce you to her sometime.” He leaned against the counter, his gaze catching and holding hers.
His blue eyes defined arresting. Nicely spaced, with thick lashes, a myriad of emotions reflected in their depths. Good will and humor and maybe even teasing. Seconds later the teasing transformed into another meaning she couldn’t mistaken.
Have mercy, his eyes are smoldering! If he looks at me that way much longer, I’ll become a pool of mush on the floor.
He scrutinized Abby until heat washed into her throat and up to her face. She couldn’t help but stare back.
Hell, he wasn’t just tall. He wasn’t just handsome. He was every cliché she’d ever heard.
Drop dead gorgeous.
To die for.
She almost made herself sick with the adages. And he baked Christmas cookies? Something she couldn’t do. How thoroughly, sickeningly, perfect could a man get?
Wait a minute. Cobalt blue eyes. No wonder he looked familiar.
“Something wrong?” he asked, his voice serious.
Abby jerked from her stunned silence. “I know you.”
His gaze performed another lingering assessment. Purely masculine appreciation carried into his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes as he grinned.
“Pixie?” he asked.
Chapter 2
“How...” Abby started to ask, her breath sucking in so quickly that it came out as a cough. “Excuse me.”
“You okay?” Nick asked, his eyes darkening with concern.
She cleared her throat and smiled, embarrassed. “I’m fine thanks.”
“I’m flattered.”
“What?”
“A woman’s never gotten choked up over me before.”
She laughed. “You’re Santa,” she said, accusing rather than confirming.
“That’s me.” He put his hand out to her. “Nick Claussen.”
She shook his big hand and enjoyed the heat in his slightly rough palm and firm grip. “Nick Claussen, eh?”
“Yeah, pretty cool, isn’t it?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Saint Nick. Santa Claus. Nick Claussen.”
Unable to hold in another laugh, Abby let it rip. She noted how his glance strayed to her mouth. Her lips tingled. As if he’d touched them. The notion sent heat like a slow tide into her body, starting at her stomach and unfurling outwards.
“How did you know I worked in the bookstore?” she asked.
Nick lowered his voice. “I didn’t at first, but I looked at the name of your store. Elf Books and you’re an elf...” He shrugged. “That and Pete Mulligan. I ran into him, literally, and he told me your nickname is Pixie.”
She cleared her throat. “I ought to skin him alive.”
“Hey, it’s not his fault. I begged him to tell me.”
As if happy that Abby participated in his game, he treated her to another of his cocky smiles. She really did like the way his lips moved, she thought. Mobile and well shaped, his mouth must be designed for grins, laughter, and...kissing.
Oh, Lord. I’m losing it.
“That’s right,” Nick said, as if he’d read her mind and established that she’d flipped. “I was looking for you because I wanted to thank you for the help this morning. But Pete got away before I could find out your real name.”
When she recalled how he’d handled Tisha’s sadness, Abby warmed to him. His benevolence had made Santa a pleasant obsession for her this afternoon.
Nick settled his purchases onto the counter as if he meant to stay awhile. “Are you going to be my elf for the rest of the month?”
“Clear through the season.”
“That’s great. I’m looking forward to it.”
A twitter of excitement ran through her. Abby allowed the enjoyable sensation to grip her and widened her smile until she realized her expression must resemble a circus clown.
The sensual heat in his eyes jump-started her heart and loosened her normally well-tended defenses.
“I noticed your help-wanted sign out front. I want to apply,” he said as he rubbed his hand over his chiseled, slightly square jaw.
“It’s just a clerk position.”
“I don’t mind.”
“There’s a lot of inventory work, stocking shelves, lifting heavy boxes.”
“I’m strong. Lifting heavy boxes is no problem.”
Abby glanced over his broad shoulders and long arms. Curiosity made her want to see him in action. Lifting. Stretching. She gulped.
Nick looked at the two computerized cash registers at the front counter. “I’m assuming inventory is mostly computer work?”
“Yes.”
“I’m great with computers.”
Becca came behind the counter. “Did I overhear that you’d like to apply for the clerk position? I’m Becca Medino, partners with Abby.”
Nick introduced himself and shook hands with Becca. “You heard right. Are there only two of you to run the store?”
“Don’t sound so skeptical,” Becca said, her eyes sparkling. “Abby and I work our cans off, but I’m going to be away visiting relatives just before Christmas and Abby will need extra help.”
“I can manage,” Abby said before she could think.
Suddenly the idea of working with this attractive man morning and afternoon worried her. Nick Claussen would be too much of a distraction.
Becca gave her a surprised look, but quickly recovered. She pulled an application form from a slot beneath the counter and handed it to him. “Here you go. Get it back to us as soon as possible. We have quite a few applications and will be making a selection soon.”
“Will do.” He glanced at Abby again. “I’ll have this back by tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
Abby opened her mouth, but before she could reply, Becca said, “That’ll be fine.”
Another customer arrived at the counter and took Becca’s attention. Abby’s muscles tensed. Why was Becca so interested in getting Nick’s application?
“I should have asked if the clerk position is for the afternoon,” Nick said, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets.
“Yes,” Abby said reluctantly. “But there may be some morning hours required when Becca goes on vacation. What about your Santa Claus commitment?”
He shrugged. “Pete is pretty flexible. I’ll have to see what I can work out.”
Damn the man. He acted like the job had already been offered to him. Confidence oozed from Nick, and this self-assurance irritated her because it was in pointed contrast to her own uneasiness.
Nick retrieved his books and sent Abby another arch smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Pixie.”
He strode out of the store without another comment.
When Becca finished with the customer, she placed a hand on her hip and grinned at Abby. Knowing Becca too well, Abby sensed her friend had a plan.
“Okay, what are you grinning at?” Abby asked. “Thinking about the nice anniversary dinner you’re going to have tonight?”
Becca chuckled. “Actually, no. I was thinking about Nick Claussen.”
“Shame on you, Becca Sue Medino. What would Sam think?”
“Sam has nothing to worry about. But, by the way Nick was looking at you, I’d say you’re the one that should worry.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Becca folded her arms over her chest. “The man was absolutely captivated by you. Couldn’t you tell?”
Abby made a little noise of disbelief as well. She had never captivated men. Ever. “You’re certifiably nuts. He’s just one of those men that flirts because he thinks he can get what he wants if he turns on that Harrison Ford smile.”
“Hmm. I suppose that could be, but he seemed nice and sincere.”
“Seemed is the operative word here. Why did you tell him to hurry and turn in the application? He’s the first applicant and we just put the sign up.”
“Because he seems like the kind of guy we could use around here.”
Abby sighed and gazed at the twinkling lights on the small tree on the counter. “Becca, what type of man is Santa Claus in the morning and wants to be a bookstore clerk in the afternoon?”
Pushing a strand of hair back from her face, Becca shrugged. “I don’t know. But earlier today you were sighing over how great Santa was and now that you know who he is, you don’t like him. What changed?”
Unwilling to probe her feelings, she ignored Becca’s question. “We just don’t want to get his hopes up if we find a better applicant. Besides, we might find a woman who is more qualified.”
“True.” Becca grinned. “On the other hand, a handsome hunk might draw in more female customers. And it wouldn’t be such a bad idea for you to get to know—”
Abby held one hand up. “Wait a minute. We already draw customers because we have great service and a good selection of books. We don’t need some overgrown Hercules to draw women into our store.”
“Overgrown Hercules?”
“Yes. Tarzan. I mean didn’t you see how broad his shoulders were and how tall—” Abby cut herself off.
Becca’s smile grew. “I noticed, and apparently you did, too.”
“Humph. Besides, he’s...”
Becca’s eyebrows rose. “Yes?”
“He’s too damned good looking.”
“Oh, come on. The man’s not perfect by any means. That’s what makes him so scrumptious. Did you see that little bump on the bridge of his nose? And that hair. So unusual. Longish. Thick and wavy, too. A woman could really sink her fingers into it. And he’s got that tiny scar at the edge of his mouth.”
“Actually I didn’t notice the scar, but I suppose that puts him right up there on the drool meter,” Abby said dryly.
Abby didn’t want to think about him, or the fact that she’d been ogling him moments before he’d arrived at the counter that afternoon. She didn’t want to think about how intimate her nickname sounded on his lips.
Abby turned back to her work, determined not to let Santa Claus obsess her thoughts.
Later in the afternoon, Abby noticed that one customer lingered in the store for a considerable time. Normally this didn’t matter to her or Becca. People could sit in a comfy chair with coffee and read a little of a book they might purchase.
But this man made her twitch. Tall, lanky, and a little unkempt, his eyes had an unfocused look that suggested drug abuse. Abby observed him surreptitiously, uncertain if he’d been surveying the store to shoplift, or if her reaction to him amounted to overreaction. Because someone didn’t concentrate on personal hygiene didn’t mean they would do anything criminal.
“I’m not going to leave you here alone,” Becca said when Abby tried to urge her to go home and enjoy her evening.
“It’s your fifteenth anniversary. You’ve already been here too long today as it is. You should have taken the day off.”
“I probably would have, but since we don’t have the clerk position filled yet—”
Abby waved a hand in dismissal as she finished what she was doing on the computerized cash register. “Pooh. Go home. I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t feel right about that guy.” Becca slanted a glance at the man. “He’s been here a long time.”
Abby summoned a smile. “And you call me paranoid? A lot of customers stay in the store a long time. There are other people here, so I’m not alone with him. Go home and have a good time.”
Becca relented when she obtained a promise from Abby that she’d call a security guard if she became worried about the loitering man. Several minutes later the man left without buying anything.
Abby exited the store an hour after closing time. Her eyes felt gritty as sandpaper and her bones ached. Paperwork waiting in the back room would have to wait.
She worried about walking to the car by herself, but she could always ask one of the security guards to accompany her if she felt uncomfortable. Tonight awareness gathered at the base of Abby’s spine and tickled her neck like millipede legs. Abby put her shoulder bag strap over her neck so that it went across her chest. She clutched her keys in her right hand, one large key protruding as a weapon.
She noted that the mall had turned from a beautiful fairy tale to a disturbing caricature. A cloak of eerie silence had replaced the chatter that normally filled the mall during the day. The center rotunda, where Nick had played Santa that morning, was quiet. The fountain was shut off, the red and green lights that had twinkled on the huge centerpiece tree no longer blinked. Even the eight delicate stuffed reindeer, which had appeared so cute earlier in the day, seemed to watch her. Abby shivered as unwanted apprehension goaded her.
Unnerved, she took the door that lead directly to the delivery exits.
Liberation soothed her when she left the mall and frigid air stung her cheeks. She hastened her step and held her keys at the ready. Wind battered her trench coat and swirled around her nylon clad legs with biting teeth. Abby glanced around the parking lot and saw no one else in the area. She’d almost made it to her car when she slipped on a patch of ice and went down hard on her side. Pain rocked up her arm and she gasped and cursed. Her keys flew out of her hand and landed under the car next to her.
Sitting up slowly, she inhaled sharply as pain lanced into her shoulder and her ribs.
“Hey, lady, you okay?”
Abby gasped again, startled, and looked up. The lanky man who had hibernated in the bookstore earlier stood directly over her, his hands on his hips and a leer on his thin lips. Panic hit her in the stomach, momentarily striking her speechless. Where the hell had he come from? She’d scanned the parking lot and there had been no one in sight.
Unless...unless he’d been crouched down behind a car.
Waiting for her.
No. That didn’t make sense. It was colder than hell out here and he didn’t know when she was leaving the store.
Mustering strength into her voice, she said, “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Hey, you’re that lady that works in the book store, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Abby stood slowly, wincing as another hot twinge rolled through her shoulder and ribs. She brushed snow off her coat. “If you’ll excuse me—”
She took a step and the man grabbed her arm. Instinctively she jerked back and lost her footing. Abby fell flat on her butt with a stunning jolt that sent an ache through her tailbone.
“Abby!”
She heard the voice before she saw the man. But she’d know that smooth, deep, tone anywhere. Nick Claussen strode across the parking lot, his face determined and grim. Relief flooded her. Earlier that day she never would have suspected how good it would feel to see him again.
The lanky man took off at a trot across the parking lot, sliding as he went.
Nick made his way with sure footing. Abby smiled through the pain cascading into her arm. Of course Nick had been smart enough to wear boots with cleats. Her boots weren’t worth diddly squat on ice.
“Are you all right?” Nick’s deep frown creased his forehead as he arrived next to her. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. I’m fine. I mean...no he didn’t attack me, and yes, I’m fine.”
Nick knelt on one knee beside her. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
She nodded and rubbed her throbbing arm. “I slipped, and I guess he was just trying to help me.”
“I doubt he wanted to help.” Nick glared at the lanky man’s retreating figure. “He wouldn’t have run away when I showed up.”
A quiver danced over her skin. “I don’t know. He appeared out of nowhere. He was in the store earlier and Becca was worried about leaving me alone with him.”
Deep concern burned in his eyes. “He was bothering you in the store?”
“No. He just hung around for an eternity.” Abby rubbed her arm.
“What’s wrong with your arm?”
She stopped rubbing it and shifted to stand up again. “I banged it a little, that’s all. It’s nothing.” As she stood, Nick took her other arm. When Abby expected Nick to release her, he kept a gentle but firm hold on her upper arm.
Her tailbone protested, but she covered her wince with a nervous laugh. “I feel like a world championship klutz. I’m not usually so clumsy.”
Nick winked and smiled, and she felt so completely safe that the adrenaline that had raced through her seconds ago began to plummet and nausea rolled through her stomach. Add that to her throbbing arm, shoulder, and tailbone, and Abby felt pretty rotten.
She looked at the ground. “Damn, where are my keys?”
He glanced around, spied her keys under the tail end of a car, and retrieved them. The heavy ring held twelve keys, and they made noise in his hand. “Sure you didn’t steal these from the mall janitor?”
“Makes a good weapon.” When Nick handed the keys to Abby, their fingers brushed.
“You’re shaking,” he said softly.
“I’m just cold.”
His gaze assessed her thoroughly. “You shouldn’t have left the building without the security guard.”
Instantly, Nick’s condescending tone brought her to a mild boil. “I can take care of myself.”
“It isn’t safe for a woman. You don’t know what that guy had in mind.”
“I don’t know your motivations either, Mr. Claussen. What were you doing skulking about the mall at this time of night?”
“I wasn’t skulking. I had dinner at La Maison with Pete and his wife.”
“I see.” She swallowed hard, but she didn’t want to give him an inch. Something about this man wedged under her skin, and rattled her composure almost as much as the creep who had accosted her. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going home.”
“Are you okay to drive?”
Still trembling, Abby inhaled icy air and gathered perspective. She was okay. There was no need to quake like a scared rabbit.
“Thank you Mr. Claussen, but I’m fine.” She turned to go, picking her steps carefully.
“Nick.”
She looked back at him. “What?”
His wicked grin returned. “Call me Nick.”
How could she be angry with a man this charming and cheeky? “See you tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow morning.” With a wave he turned away.
Abby eased into her car with a groan and locked the door. She was just happy to be inside, away from the chill and mysterious men who materialized from shadows. Her heart still hammered in her chest and her butt hurt and her arm ached. While Abby knew why her rear hurt and her arm throbbed, she couldn’t be certain why her heart continued to beat a frantic tattoo. After all, that odd man hadn’t hurt her. So why couldn’t she stop shaking?
You’re acting like a ninny, Abby.
Her aunt’s voice flowed through her.
Abby is always overacting to things. We’ve tried to train her out of it, but she’s a hopeless case...far too sensitive.
Shrugging off the aggravating voice from the past, Abby put her key in the ignition. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. Taking a deep breath, she calmed her breathing and heart rate. Time to go home, crawl into bed with hot cocoa, an aspirin, and a book.
She turned the ignition. The engine squawked. She tried once, twice, three times. No doubt about it. The battery was dead.
“Great, just great,” she muttered. Abby slapped the steering wheel in frustration. She’d have to cross that parking lot again and go back into the mall to use the phone. Mark Foreman, the mechanic who worked on her car, might still be at his garage.
Without warning, a shadow loomed out of nowhere by her window.
Chapter 3
Abby let out a startled squeak as the shadow formed into a man.
Nick tapped on her window. “Abby?”
Although her heart banged against her chest, annoyance motivated her reaction more than fear. She rolled down her window.
“Why are you still here?” she snapped.
His eyebrows went up at her harpy tone. “I was sitting in my car waiting for you to pull out of the parking lot.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to be sure you got out of here all right. I heard you trying to start your car. What’s wrong?”
She sighed and thumped the steering wheel again. “The battery is dead, I think.”
“I’ve got jumper cables.”
“No. It’s all right. I’m going back into the mall to call a mechanic I know. He’ll help me.”
“It’s no trouble. I’ve got the cables right here. We can jump the car, then I’ll follow you to the garage or your home to make sure you get there safe.”
Abby’s mouth dropped open slightly. She wanted to trust him. So far he’d been more than chivalrous. But she couldn’t quite relax. “It’s no big deal, Nick. I’m perfectly fine. I can take care of myself.”
He leaned on the windowsill. “Did I say you couldn’t take care of yourself?”
“No.”
“I’m not leaving you out here alone to wait for some mechanic to show up. We don’t know if that guy is still hanging around.”
The thought of encountering the scraggly man again made her reconsider. A stubborn line appeared on Nick’s forehead.
Damn the man. He was right. “Okay.”
“Wait right here. I’ll get the cables.”
While Abby waited for Nick, she leaned her head back on the seat and closed her eyes. What a crazy evening this had metamorphosed into.
After Nick assisted her with the car, he followed Abby through town. She traversed the icy streets with caution. As she drove into the older part of the mountain town, she enjoyed the secure feeling of knowing Nick followed her. But why would he do all of this for her? Most men would have maybe jumped the battery, but to wait to see if she got out of the parking lot? To follow her to make certain she really arrived?
Abby continued to ponder his actions all the way to Foreman’s Garage. The garage didn’t close until late, and when Mark saw her car, he waved and came out immediately.
Glad the parking lot was free from ice, she climbed from the car. Nick pulled up behind her car, and Mark’s even features hardened.
“Haven’t seen you in quite a while, Abby.” Mark’s brown-eyed glance swept over her with admiration.
Tall, thin, with straight dark hair and a pleasant attitude and smile, Mark always made her feel at ease by not treating her as a woman who didn’t know squat about cars. True, she didn’t know much about automobile repair, but Mark always went out of his way to explain what he was doing to her car and why. Becca and Sam vouched for his mechanical expertise and the fact he didn’t cheat his customers.
Abby sighed. “I think my long suffering car needs a new battery.”Nick ambled up. “Mark, I’d like you to meet Nick Claussen. He helped me jump the battery.”
The men shook hands, and although Nick smiled, she could see the way Mark sized him up. She smiled. Big brother syndrome, no doubt.
After Abby drove the car into a bay in the garage, Mark examined the battery and confirmed it had taken its last breath. She asked how long it would take to fix the car.
“I’d love to do it tonight...” Mark looked uncertain.
“But you’re about ready to close shop. I don’t expect you to do it tonight,” she said.
“My mother is in town for the holidays, and I’d planned to take her to dinner.”
Nick put his hand on Abby’s shoulder, and she stiffened. “I can take Abby home, and she can pick the car up tomorrow.”
Without looking at Nick, she shifted out from under his hand. “I’ll take a cab.”
Mark glanced from Nick to Abby as he wiped his hands on a towel. “Hey, it’s no problem. I’ll just ring my mother and explain I’ll be a little late tonight.”
“But you had plans,” Abby said, concerned.
Mark winked. “It’s no big deal. Mom is visiting clear through the holidays. There'll be another time. You’re welcome to sit in the other room and wait.”
As Mark turned back to the car, Abby pivoted toward Nick. “I didn’t thank you for all your help. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime. Shall we go into the waiting room?”
“Oh,” she said, surprised. “But you don’t have to wait for me.”
Nick smiled and put his hand on her shoulder again. His touch sent a frisson of heat through her, and she didn’t know whether to enjoy the sensation or bat his hand away.
“But I want to wait with you,” he said.
A loud clang startled them both as Mark dropped something on the concrete floor. He pinned Nick with another hard look. “Abby, can I talk to you in private for a moment?”
“Of course.”
Nick gestured toward the side door. “I’ll be in there."
After the door closed behind Nick, Mark came over, his eyes filled with unease. “Hey, is this Claussen guy bothering you?”
“Oh, no. He’s actually been great.” She heard herself admitting his virtues and wondered why the confession slipped from her lips so easily. “He works with me at the mall and happened to be in the parking lot tonight when my car wouldn’t start.”
He nodded and wiped his hands on a rag once again. Leaning against the side of her car, he said, “I can take you home if you don’t want him knowing where you live.”
Chivalry seemed to be running amok tonight. Uncertain why she felt she needed to defend Nick when she’d known him but a few hours, she reassured herself as well as Mark. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I appreciate you staying late to put the new battery in.”
“Anything for you,” he said, and winked again.
Mark liked Abby. That was obvious. What bothered Nick, however, was wondering if Abby returned the admiration.
Nick paced the room idly. While not exactly hyperactive, no one would accuse him of being a snail. Eventually he removed a stack of frayed and torn magazines from a chair in the tiny waiting room, and settled down. The place was cluttered and smelled like a garage should: gasoline and oil mixed.
Minutes evaporated and Abby didn’t join him in the waiting room. Obviously she didn’t want his company. The idea nagged at him. Mystery surrounded her, and the longer he knew Abby, the more he wanted to know what lay beneath her composed veneer.
She’d been friendly enough when he’d first met her, but she’d grown distant. As if she didn’t trust him. Of course, it made sense for a woman to be wary of strangers. He couldn’t blame her for using caution. Something warm in her eyes drew Nick closer and made him want to touch her and look at her. The instant attraction worried him.
Recalling the ready smile Abby had offered the young mechanic, Nick realized that she didn’t seem the least defensive with Mark. So she trusted the mechanic. What, exactly, would it take to win Abby’s confidence? Why did he want her trust? So he could get the job? Nick certainly didn’t know. He didn’t need another job.
Get a grip, Claussen. You’ve never gone this crazy over a woman you’ve just met.
That wasn’t entirely true.
Deena.
A dull ache penetrated his chest. Grief sometimes took a while to wear down. He’d read enough about the grief process to realize he’d passed through all the predictable stages. He’d reached the end of the line, he’d thought. Maybe interest in another woman meant something. Sure, he’d dated Candace off and on, but it hadn’t progressed beyond a mutual need for companionship and sex. Candace understood that. She traveled frequently and they didn’t see each other often. This attraction he had for Abby hadn’t eased into his blood. It had slammed him like an avalanche.
The door to the car bay opened, and Abby came into the waiting area. She looked tired, but the weariness in her eyes couldn’t remove the sexy curve of her full lips, or the rose tint to her cheeks.
Nick smiled and the tension around her mouth eased. “Everything okay?”
She nodded and glanced around as if looking for a place to sit. It wasn’t easy to maneuver in the tight space with the amount of junk covering every surface. “He’s almost finished.”
He moved the magazines off the chair next to him and gestured. “Have a seat.”
“I think I’ll stand.”
“Why? I promise I don’t bite. At least, not much, anyway.”
“I should hope not.”
To his surprise, Abby smiled. God, did she know how absolutely beautiful she was? Even now the artificial light sparked warm highlights off her dark brown bob. Her hair looked soft, silky. He wanted to touch it. What would it look like all mussed after a hot, incredible sex session?
“You ought to do that more often,” he said.
She shrugged off her coat and folded it over her arm. “What?”
“Smile. You’ve got a beautiful smile.”
Abby’s mouth opened, but not a word came out. She stared at Nick for a long moment before she came toward him and sat in the chair next to him. “Are you flirting with me, Nick?”
Surprised at her straightforward question, he took a moment to respond. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re an attractive woman and I like you.”
“Are you always this forward with women you barely know?”
“Just women I want to know better.”
“So you flirt with every woman you want to know?”
Her relentless questions had turned the tables and he wasn’t sure he liked the inquisition. “Of course not.”
“Hmm.”
He looked at her sharply. What was she trying to do? “Are you always this suspicious of men who flirt with you?”
“Men don’t—” Abby stopped, subsiding into her chair as if a weight pressed her down.
“Mark flirts with you.”
“He’s just a friend.”
The air felt thick, as if the conversation held more significance than he’d anticipated. “What’s that thing with his eye then? A nervous twitch?”
“Mark winks at baby girls and old ladies. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Nick leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs at his ankles. “You don’t like flirting.”
“I might be your employer.”
“Hopefully.”
Her steady gaze examined him. “Isn’t it a bit cocky of you to flirt with me when I might be your boss?”
“But you’re not my boss yet.”
“And you’re not worried I won’t hire you because you’re flirting?”
He considered his words carefully. “Inappropriate behavior between an employer and employee.” He clasped his fingers together and twiddled his thumbs. “Sexual harassment. But it’s only sexual harassment if you don’t want it. If you ask me to stop, I will.”
“That’s very commendable, but I wasn’t thinking of sexual harassment.”
Nick’s hopes went up.
Abby pursed her lips slightly as if in thought, and then gave him a covert glance. “Though that is a thought.”
His hopes went down.
He leaned toward her and lowered his voice. “So you don’t like it when I flirt with you?”
She held eye contact. “Are you flirting because you think it will influence me to hire you?”
“No. I have my resume in the car and you can look it over. You’ll see I’m not an ogre.”
“I never said you were an ogre. You could be a perfectly normal man using flirting to influence me to hire you.”
Nick admired her quick comebacks, and obviously she didn’t sway easily. He could simply give up and forget about the job at the bookstore. He could try and forget how attracted he was to her. Nick couldn’t deny he wanted the job in part because he wanted to know her better. And if she didn’t want to be known, well...
Nick swallowed hard. He knew when he’d lost the battle, but her incisive interrogation stimulated him. The conversation reminded him of swinging a deal in the boardroom.
“I’m hoping you’ll hire me on merit and merit alone,” he said.
Abby inspected her hands folded in her lap. Pale and small, her hands were nicely manicured, with long, shapely nails painted a subdued pink. Nick sucked in a breath as he imagined those nails running through the hair on his chest or digging into his back as he made love to her.
“Merit is the only way you’ll get the job,” she said, her eyes narrowing into a skeptical gleam. “And it’s the only way you’d keep it.”
He smiled and shifted slightly in her direction. “Is that why you didn’t want to sit next to me, Abby?”
“Actually, no." She arched one brow. "My butt hurts.”
“What?”
“When I fell on the ice, I hit my tailbone. It’s a little sore.”
He would have replied, but Mark came in, wiping his dirty hands on a cloth. “All done.”
As Abby pulled her car into the driveway of her modest Victorian home, she felt infinite relief. Situated in a quiet neighborhood populated more by old people than young, her house was guarded by a weeping willow near the sidewalk. Other ancient trees, mostly pine, rose like sentinels around her abode. She loved this haven, her sanctuary from a world that didn’t always live up to expectations.
She climbed from the car and glanced with paranoia at the ice around her. Nick pulled his BMW 540i up to the curb. As he climbed out of the car, he flashed another devil-may-care smile that translated into pure male magnetism. As he approached her, Abby’s breath accelerated. She hated it. She didn’t want to feel intrigued with this man in any way. She didn’t want to think that his stride was sexy, or the curve of his lips enticing.
“Thanks again for helping me.” She reached out to shake his hand. A handshake lent formality to the situation, like closing a satisfactory business deal. “It was kind of you.”
When Abby would have pulled away instantly, Nick held her hand a tad longer than necessary. “You’re welcome.”
Heat flooded her stomach. Did he expect her to invite him in? The idea was tempting. She had hot tea, coffee, and cocoa. Perfect for a freezing evening.
No.
She didn’t know him. Abby removed her hand from his. “Goodnight, Nick. Have a nice evening.”
He started back to his car. “Take care, Abby. And I will see you tomorrow.”
Relief immersed her as she turned and entered the house. The man was entirely too audacious for his own good. She peeked through the curtains next to the door and watched him drive the upscale car away from the curb. Abby wondered again why a man with enough money to buy a luxury car would be playing Santa in a mall and wanting to work in a bookstore part time. Go figure.