Kisses on Her Christmas List (9 page)

She peeked at him.
“An alliance?”

“A partnership.
My side of the bargain is that I need help.
Your side is to provide that help.
It's win-win.”

She laughed again.

And something soft and warm floated through Rory.
He hadn't exactly forgotten what it felt like to be in the company of a woman, but he had forgotten some things.
Like how everything around them always smelled pretty.
Or how their laughs were usually musical.

“I love it when you laugh.”

Shannon took a step back, and though she'd pulled away before, avoided him before, this morning it gave him an odd feeling in the pit of his stomach.
She had a real problem with him complimenting her.

After nearly three days together he should be at least allowed to compliment something neutral like her laugh.

“Why does that make you mad?”

She started walking again.
“It doesn't make me mad.”

“It makes you something because you stopped laughing.
Pulled away.”
He paused, watching her race away from him.
“Now you're all but running away.”

“We have work to do.”

“And we also spent the weekend together.
We can't spend the week behaving like strangers.”

“Not strangers, just people working out a business deal.”

Catching up to her, he said, “Ah, so this is your business face.”

She motioned a circle in front of the bright red jacket of her suit.
“This is the whole business demeanor.”
Then she sighed.
“Look, I'm seriously trying to sell you my store.
It would help if you'd forget that I love to sled-ride.
And that I can't cook.
And I haven't even started decorating for Christmas yet.”

He studied her pretty blue eyes, which were shiny with what he could only guess was fear that something personal might cause him to walk away from their negotiations.
His voice was soft, careful, when he said, “Why would that help?
People who like each other usually make better deals.”

She looked away.
“Friendships can also backfire.”

Ah.
“Did you have a friendship backfire?”

“No, I'm just saying—”

“And I'm just saying relax.
We like each other—” For once he didn't try to deny it.
All weekend long he'd been coming to know her, getting to like her.
Being trapped in her little house with a strong desire to kiss her hadn't been good.
But in a store filled with people and with a business deal to discuss she had nothing to fear.

Or was that he had nothing to fear?

No matter.
They were both safe.

“We got to be friends over the weekend.
I've even asked for help with Finley.
Surely, I should be allowed to say you have a pretty laugh.”

She stiffened.
Then, as if realizing she was making too much out of nothing, she drew in a breath.
“Yes.
Of course, I'm sorry.”

“No need to be sorry.
Just relax.”

She smiled.
“Okay.”

“Okay.”

They spent an hour in human resources and returned to her office to pick up Finley for lunch.
In the huge, bustling cafeteria they drank milk shakes and ate French fries.
But Finley tossed her head back and covered her ears when “Here Comes Santa Claus” replaced the more sedate Christmas song that had been playing.

“You know what puzzles me?”
Shannon said, tugging one of Finley's hands away from her ears.
“How can you watch cartoons?”

Finley's eyes narrowed.

Shannon picked up a French fry.
“I mean, they're not any more real than Santa.
Yet you like cartoons.
Wendy told me you did.”

Finley's mouth scrunched up.

Shannon dipped her fry in ketchup.
“So why don't you start thinking of Santa the same way you do a cartoon character?”

Finley glanced at Rory and he laughed.
“It sounds perfectly logical to me.”

Finley raised her gaze to the ceiling as if she could see the music.

“Listen to the words and pretend Santa is a cartoon character.”

Finley's face contorted with little-girl concentration, then she smiled.
“It's funny.”

“Of course, it is.
That's why people like to listen.
It makes them laugh.”

As if to prove that, Finley giggled.

Rory laughed, too.
But when he realized he was laughing and Finley was laughing because Shannon
had turned Finley's hatred of Christmas songs into acceptance, his laughter stopped.

This woman was really special.

Really special.

She wasn't just pretty or sexy or even really smart.
She was attuned to life.
People.
It was as if she saw things other people missed and knew how to use that information to make everybody feel wanted, needed…happy.

He said nothing as they returned to her office and deposited Finley with Wendy.
But when they entered the office for the buyers that afternoon, he noticed something that he probably could have noticed that morning if he'd been clued in to look for it.
These people loved her.

“So what are you going to do, Shannon, if the store sells?”

That question came from Julie Hughes, a woman in her twenties who gazed at Shannon with stars in her eyes, as if she were the epitome of everything Julie wanted to be when she got a little older.

“I'm not sure.”
Shannon smiled, casually leaned her hip on the corner of Julie's desk, clearly comfortable with her staff.
“This is only Mr.
Wallace's first day here.
He may look around and decide he doesn't want to buy us.”

“He'd be crazy,” Fred Cummings said, leaning back in his chair.
“We make a ton of money.”
He pointed at Shannon.
“Due in no small part to changes this woman made after her dad let go of the reins.”

Shannon laughed.
“I did a few things.
They've only been up and running a few months.”

Fred said, “Right.”

But Rory got the message.
Fred wouldn't push any
more because he wouldn't insult the last company president, Shannon's dad, in front of Shannon.
But it was clear things hadn't always gone so smoothly at Raleigh's Department Store.

Heading back to the administrative officer, he said, “This is some place.”

Though she'd downplayed her efforts in front of her staff, in the hall, away from anyone who could see, her face blossomed with pride.
“Thank you.”

“But I do have one really big question.”

“Fire away.
There's no question too sacred.”

“Why are you selling Raleigh's?
It's clear you love this store.
You're also very good at what you do.
Why would you want to give it up?”

“My parents need the money from the sale to fund their retirement.”

“Right.
I get that.
But you love it.”
He paused, then asked the question that had been bothering him for the past few hours.
“Why don't you buy it?”

She stopped.
Faced him.
“I tried.
I couldn't get financing.”

“Oh.
Did you try finding a partner?”

“Are you offering?”

He winced.
“My family doesn't partner.
We either buy outright or nothing at all.”

“I didn't think so.”

But Rory wasn't so easily put off.
“You said I'm the first person you approached.
Surely there are others, investors who might consider a partnership—”

She laughed slightly.
“Rory.
Are you trying to talk me out of selling to you?”

“No.
It's just that it's obvious to me that you're going to miss the store.”
He paused.
When she didn't reply, he said, “There's more to this story.
I need to hear it.”

For a few seconds it looked like she wouldn't reply.
Finally she said, “I've actually only been working at the store a year.
My husband had unceremoniously dumped me and I was devastated.
So I came home.
I expected to sleep away the next few months, but my dad wouldn't let me.”
She smiled, as if remembering.
“Anyway, he got me working in the store, and when he retired a few months ago, he made me company president.
Nobody expected that I'd blossom the way I did.
I like the work enough that I could have stayed here the rest of my life.”
She shrugged.
“But my parents need the money, so I have to move on.
But, on the bright side, at least now I know what I want to do with my life.”

“Run another store?”

“Maybe.
Or maybe just head up the buyers.”
She smiled.
“Or the advertising department, public relations…”

He laughed.
“You won't be happy unless you can have your finger in every pot.”

But even as he laughed, an uncomfortable lump formed in his stomach.
“I feel like I'm taking away your dream.”

She shook her head.
“Running my parents' store is not my dream.
It's just a really great job.”

“So what is your dream?”

She started walking again, but he'd seen the sadness that shadowed her face.

If he wasn't taking away her dream by buying the store, something was up with her.
He considered that maybe she couldn't handle another change in her life only one year after her divorce.
But she was a strong, competent woman.
He believed her when she said she was over her ex and the accompanying sadness from her divorce.

So what was it?

Why did he know, deep in his gut, that something serious haunted her and somehow, some way, he contributed to it?

He caught her arm and stopped her.

When he didn't say anything, she said, “Question?”

He stared into her pretty blue eyes.
All the physical reactions he'd held at bay all weekend came flooding back.
Only now they were combined with emotions.
He cared about her.
He cared about her a lot.
He didn't want to take away her dreams.
He
liked
her.

The urge to kiss her itched through him again and he was growing tired of fighting it.
Tired of fighting the first good thing that had happened to him in two long years.

When his head lowed toward hers, he didn't try to stop himself.
For the first time since his divorce, he wasn't just physically attracted to a woman.
He liked her.

Their lips met tentatively, just a quick brush.
But response shivered through him.
Attraction.
Arousal.
Wonderful forgotten sensations that he'd avoided, ignored or smothered over the past two years.

He deepened the kiss, pressing his mouth against hers and though he felt her hesitate, she pressed back.

She liked him.

Just when he would have deepen the kiss, made it a real kiss, she pulled away.

Smoothing her hand along her cascade of dark curls, she turned and started up the hall again.
“We should get back to Finley.”

A
T SIX O'CLOCK
that night Rory and Finley stepped into a very comfortable hotel room.
A double bed sat in the middle of the room, and, as he'd requested when he made his reservation, a cot for Finley sat beside the bed.
As he tossed their suitcases into the closet and slid his briefcase onto the desk, the feelings from the kiss he'd shared with Shannon that afternoon still vibrated through him.
Unfortunately, all those wonderful sensations were mitigated by the awkwardness afterward.
Worse, he couldn't stop thinking about Shannon herself.
Her future.
What would she do without the store?

He might not be taking away her “dream” but he was taking away her job.
And maybe her home.
With only one department store in her small city, there was no other store in town for her to manage.
She'd definitely have to move away.

They'd been so busy all afternoon that she'd easily avoided talking abut her life and that kiss.
But he had to talk to her again.
He couldn't sit here in a hotel all night and wonder.
Plus, he'd finally figured out she probably didn't want to talk about her decisions in the hallway of an office where she could be overheard.

Finley shrugged out of her jacket, but he pushed it up her arms again.

“Hey!”

He stooped down in front of her.
“I have a favor to ask.”

She blinked.

“You know how Shannon took us in this weekend?”

She nodded.

“Well, she did us a favor.”

She tilted her head in question.
“Uh-huh.”

“So now we have to return the favor.”

“We do?”

“Yes.”
He pulled in a breath.
It wasn't a fabulous plan, but it was the only plan he could come up with, so he was running with it.
“Shannon was supposed to decorate her house for Christmas over the weekend.”

Finley's eyes grew round and large.
She wasn't a dummy.
She knew what was coming.

He sucked it up and just told her straight out.
“But because we were in her home, she didn't decorate.
She entertained us.
So since we owe her for taking us in, I was thinking we should go to her house and help her do the work she would have done had we not needed her help.”

He'd couched his request in such a way Finley would see how much they were in Shannon's debt.
Still, she frowned.
“I don't want to.”

“I don't doubt that.
But didn't she give you a way to think about Christmas today that made it seem easy for you?”

“Yeah.”

“So, she's done us more than one favor and now we're going to repay her.
That's the way life works.”

Her lower lip jutted out.

He rose anyway.
“Suck it up, kid.
We owe her.
We're doing this.
And no hissy fits or diva behavior.
You might
not like Christmas but Shannon does and I won't spoil this for her.
So we're going.”

She sighed heavily but didn't argue.

He found a phone book and ordered Chinese food before shepherding Finley back to the car.
They stopped for the takeout food, and were on Shannon's front porch within the hour.

She answered their knock quickly, as if she'd been standing right by the door.
When she saw them, a smile of pleasure blossomed on her pretty face, making Rory realize he'd made the right choice.
“Hey.”

He held up the Chinese food.
“I brought a peace offering.”

She motioned for them to step inside.
“Peace offering?”

He handed her the bags of food, and wrestled out of his topcoat.
“We wasted your entire weekend.
So we decided to help you decorate.”

Her gaze flew to Finley.
“Really?”

“Yes.”
He glanced down at his daughter.
“Right?”

Finley sighed.
“Right.”

Shannon led them into the kitchen.
“Well, thank you very much.
I can use the help.”
Depositing the food on the center island, she added, “Would you rather eat first and decorate second, or eat as we decorate?”

“How about eat as we decorate?”
He slid his gaze to Finley, hoping Shannon would get the message that if Finley was busy eating then she wouldn't actually have to decorate.
An easy way to avoid trouble.

She nodded slightly, indicating she'd caught his drift.
“I have some paper plates we can use.”
She walked to the cupboard to get them.
“We'll make it like a picnic.”

They set everything up on the coffee table between the floral sofa and twin sage-green club chairs.
When
it came to dealing with Finley, Shannon was fine.
But when the room grew quiet and Finley was busy eating rice and sweet-and-sour chicken, shivers of fear sprinkled her skin.

He'd kissed her.
Spontaneously.
Wonderfully.
And everything inside of her had responded.
It wasn't a kiss of lust or surprise, as it would have been had he kissed her over the weekend.
This kiss had been…emotional.

They liked each other.
Two and a half days of forced company coupled with a day of walking through her store, finding out about each other, had taken their physical attraction and turned it into an emotional attachment.

It was wonderful…and scary…and wrong.

She knew the end of this rainbow.
If they got involved—dated—at some point she'd have to tell him she couldn't have kids.

And everything between them would change.
Even the way he saw her—

Especially
the way he saw her.

She pulled in a breath.
Told herself to settle down.
If he bought the store, she would leave.
If he didn't, he would leave.
He'd go back to his life and company in Virginia, and she would stay here.
Distance alone would keep them from dating.
And if they didn't date, she wouldn't have to tell him.

So why not enjoy the evening?

Or use it as a chance to bring Finley along?
No child should hate a holiday filled with wonder and magic.
Her mom should be ashamed for ruining one of the best times of the year for her daughter.
But in the past three days, Finley gone from being horrified about anything even related to the holiday, to actually laughing at the
Christmas songs piped into the cafeteria.
Maybe it was time to nudge her a little more?

Catching a piece of chicken in her chopsticks, she said, “You know, I like Christmas music when I decorate.
You laughed about the Christmas songs today at lunch.
So I'm just going to pop in a CD right now.”

Finley glanced at Rory.
He shrugged.
“Just think of them like cartoons.
The way Shannon told you this afternoon.”

Finley sighed.
Shannon found the Christmas music but kept the volume low.
A soft mellow song drifted into the room.
Finley turned her attention to her dinner.
Wanting to get as much done as she could while Finley was cooprerative, Shannon grabbed the spools of tinsel she'd created the night before.

“I'm going to hang these from the ceiling.”

Rory glanced over at her.
“Is that code for I need a tall person to help me?”

She laughed.
“Yes.”

He took the tinsel from her hand.
She pointed at a corner.
“What my dad used to do at our old house was string the tinsel from one corner to the center, and from the center to the opposite corner, making two loops.
Then we'd do that again from the other corners.”

He frowned.
“Why don't you just direct me?”

“Okay.
Walk to the corner, attach the tinsel with a tack, then loop it to the center of the ceiling.”

He did as she said.
When they met in the center, she tacked the tinsel in place.
“Now walk to the opposite corner and tack the tinsel up there.”

When the line of tinsel was in place, he smiled.
“Not bad.
Sort of festive.”

“Glad you like it.”
She handed him another strand
of tinsel.
“Because now we've got to do the other two corners.”

He happily took the strand of tinsel and repeated the looping process.

When he was done, she offered him the ball of mistletoe her dad always put in the center.
“Just hang this where the strands meet.”

He looked at the mistletoe, looked at her.

Then it hit her.
The mistletoe was pretty, but it was plastic.
They'd hung the silly thing in their living room for years and, basically, no one paid any attention to the fact that it was mistletoe or the traditions that surrounded it.

Obviously, Rory wasn't so casual about it.

Embarrassment should have shot through her.
Instead, when their gazes met, the warmth of connection flooded her.
She really liked this guy.

But she'd already figured out that they weren't right for each other.
Plus, once he made a decision about her store, they'd never see each other again.
They had no time to form a deep emotional attachment.
There'd be no time for a real commitment.
They'd spend so little time together there wouldn't even be a brush with one.
Was it so wrong to want another kiss?

It might not be wrong, per se, but it did lead them down a slippery slope.
A slope she might not recover from if she actually fell for him in this little span of time they had together.
If they fell, and he asked her to stay or asked her to come to Virginia with him, or ask for any kind of commitment at all, she'd have to tell him.

And she couldn't do that.
Not again.

She caught his gaze.
“We don't have to bow to the whims of superstition or tradition.”

He bounced the ball of mistletoe on his palm.
“But what if we want to?”

Frissions of delight raced through her bloodstream.
She couldn't stop the pleasure that blossomed in her chest.
But that only made her realize how easily she could fall and how careful she'd have to be spending the next few days with him at the store.

Still, she didn't want to make a big deal out of this.
She tapped his arm playfully.
“Just hang the darn thing.”

They hung more tinsel in her dining room and threaded it around her doorways.
With the shiny silver tinsel in place, she handed Rory a box of bright blue Christmas-tree balls.
“Hang these on the tinsel…about three feet apart.”

“Okay.”
He glanced at Finley, who had finished her dinner and was sitting, watching them.
He offered the box to her.
“Want to hand these to me?”

She shrugged.
“I suppose.”
She scrambled up from her seat beside the coffee table and took the box.

Shannon gathered their dishes and carried them to the kitchen.
When she returned to the living room, Rory and Finley had a little assembly line going.
Finley would hand him a blue ball.
He'd hang it on the tinsel.
By the time he turned for another ornament, Finley already had one in her hand for him.

“What do you think I should do with the drapes?”

Rory glanced over.
“Do?”

“Should I loop some tinsel across the top?”
She pulled some plastic fir garland from the big box on the floor.
“Or maybe some of this fake fir stuff.”

Finley said, “It's too green,” surprising both Shannon and Rory.

“Too green?”

“Yeah.
The curtains are green.”

Understanding what Finley was saying, Shannon said, “Right.
Maybe we should loop some tinsel around the garland so it stands out a bit.”

“Or just put up lights.”