Sweet Christmas Kisses (153 page)

December first arrived with a bang, delivering an overnight cold snap. The day also started with Michael determined to put the completely inappropriate and unexplained attraction to Noelle out of his mind. He had no business thinking about Noelle in a romantic sense, let alone fantasizing about having babies with her. He’d spent the night wondering if helping her save Christmas had been the stupidest decision he’d ever made. 

After a mostly sleepless night, dawn came with a crystal blue sky and a promise of mid-forties by the afternoon. Which was welcome news as today was also the official start of the Christmas season in Covington Falls. The festivities kicked off in the afternoon with a parade beginning at the high school and ending at Rice Circle.

At nine-thirty, Michael pulled into an empty spot near the football field. He could see several floats scattered across the grass already. A swarm of people worked to put the finishing touches on the holiday-themed creations. He spotted one decked out like the North Pole with an igloo and two polar bears, another with a giant gingerbread house, and a third appeared to have a throne, which must be for the homecoming court.

He opened his door but didn’t get far because Noelle suddenly appeared. “I may pull a Julia and need you to fetch a trashcan at some point today.”

Michael’s determination to squash whatever errant hormones were reacting to Noelle sank like an anchor the moment he took in her wind-kissed cheeks and wide, slightly terrified eyes. Her hair was styled into braids, but by now hanks of it had escaped to dance around her face.

What? Since when had he started thinking about dancing hair? He needed to get ahold of himself.

Michael paused, one foot on the ground, the other still in his truck. “Morning to you too, Noelle.”

His erstwhile partner in crime didn’t so much as crack a smile. “I’m serious.” She shook a handful of papers in face. “Do you see all this?”

Since Noelle was waving the stack around, he didn’t have a clue what they said. “No.”

“
This
is everything we have to do to ensure the parade goes off without a hitch.” The stack rattled again. “There are bands, cheerleaders, fire trucks, floats, classic cars, clowns, and a whole troop of people riding unicycles. The 4H Club will be riding horses down Main Street. Do you know what horses mean?”

“Pooper scoopers?”

The comment brought forth a ferocious glare. “You’re not taking this seriously. Today is my first big test. Everything could go down in flames.”

Michael fought back a grin. Noelle wouldn’t appreciate knowing he found her adorable when she got flustered. “Pooper scoopers are serious business for anyone following behind horses in a parade. And don’t worry. Nothing will go wrong.”

“Are you insane? There are so many opportunities for things to go wrong it’s not even funny.”

Putting his hands on her shoulders, he forced her to look up at him. “We can do this. Together.”

She took a deep breath. “You’re inhuman. I don’t know how you can be so calm.”

“I’m calm because I have faith in you.”

For a moment she stilled, and just like that, the simmering awareness returned. Noelle had on a thick coat, but Michael swore he could feel heat from her skin underneath. Today, her eyes were blue, like a lake in the early evening.

Five minutes. He’d been here no more than five minutes, and already his vow to remain unaffected was threatening to dissolve like a sandcastle being assaulted by a wave.

He lifted his hands and stepped back.

“Let me see those papers.” He snatched them out her hand and scanned the lists. “Well, at least the parade order has been finished. Now all we have to do is line folks up and direct traffic.”

“Oh, is that all?” Noelle said, sarcasm lacing every syllable. “We snap our fingers and instantly everyone gets in line? Have you ever tried to get clowns to line up? Or a team of cheerleaders determined to flirt with every boy in sight? And once those horses show up, look out. Huge piles of smelly landmines everywhere you step.”

Michael grinned down at her. “Thanks for the warning. Let’s get to work.”

Noelle had been right. Directing traffic made up of a thousand individual parts was a lot like herding cats. The clowns were actually pretty easy to manage. Their leader may have had a creepy-scary oversized mouth and eyebrows that were probably visible from the moon, but Bobo was all business underneath the makeup.

The cheerleaders were another story.

“O…K!” the head rah-rah girl called out. Michael thought her name was Staci or Laci or Tammi. He knew it was something with an
i
because Staci-Laci-Tammi had made a point of telling him so. “Give me a C!”

“C!” Her high-octane pep squad shouted back right on cue.

“Give me an R!” Staci-Laci-Tammi commanded.

“R!”

“Give me an I…”

Michael was forced to wait until she finished spelling out the entire word before Staci-Laci-Tammi spoke to him. He was pretty sure
next
Christmas had come and gone by the time they reached the crescendo, punctuated by a warrior battle cry at a decibel level that matched a 747 tuned to a pitch high enough to shatter glass.

His eardrums shattered certainly.

“Uh… Staci?” Michael said, as soon as the deafening sound lowered.

“It’s Ali… with an
i
.”

“Ali, we need you guys to line up. You’re right in front of the band.”

“O…K!”

Michael flinched, praying she wasn’t about to start another cheer, but apparently Ali just liked to start every sentence with a bang.

“Although marching in front of the band is creepo. I can feel them staring at my—” Ali sent him an Eve-in-the-Garden-of-Eden smile no girl under the voting age should’ve mastered.

When had teenaged girls turned into sirens? He made a point of putting extra distance between him and jailbait. “Can you take your place now?”

“Sure.” She winked and sent him another sultry grin.

As he walked away, Michael wondered exactly when he’d become old. He felt ancient in comparison to Ali.

Next on his agenda was dealing with the town’s esteemed mayor and his wife. Mayor Manning would be a piece of cake… his wife not so much. Catherine Manning seemed to think she was some sort of queen, and the good citizens of Covington Falls nothing but lowly peasants. Michael made it a point to avoid her whenever possible. He half-expected her to demand his head if he looked at her wrong. Or said the wrong thing. Or breathed wrong.

Michael spotted Mayor Manning’s balding head through the sea of band members. The band members who’d been practicing the same Christmas carol for
two straight hours
.

Talk about a headache.

He didn’t see Catherine Manning at first, so Michael had the irrational hope the mayor’s wife had suddenly been struck with the flu or an attack of vertigo.

“I will not have it.”

No such luck.

Rotating toward the shrill command, Michael braced for impact. “Mrs. Manning. Good morning.”

“There is nothing
good
about this morning,” she said, managing to look down her nose at him, despite the fact that he topped her height by nearly a foot. “That incompetent girl has put us after the clowns in the parade. It is totally unacceptable and beneath the dignity of our office.”

“Your husband’s office, you mean?”

A laser stare of death blasted a hole through his skull. “I do not appreciate your flippant attitude, Mr. Campbell. I demand you fix this travesty immediately.”

“Don’t worry. I will find the perfect place for you in the lineup.”

“I should hope so,” Mrs. Manning said. “I fear Miss Robinson is in no way prepared to handle the complexity of our town’s holiday preparations. I don’t have to tell you how significant the Christmas season is for our merchants. Nicholas Robinson’s unfortunate illness is
most
inconvenient.”

Michael didn’t have an answer, mostly because anything he said might get him arrested.

“I’ll take care of you, ma’am.”

Turning away before he got himself in real trouble, Michael made a note to put the Mannings after the 4H Club… and the horses.

Ah-uuu-guh… ah-uuu-guh

Michael jumped before he realized the sound had been a car horn. He spun around. A whistle of appreciation escaped his lips as he took in the classic Model A with its shiny black exterior and oversized white-rimmed tires.

Teddy Hammond, June’s husband, tapped the horn again, unleashing another…
ah-uuu-guh
.

“Hey, man,” Michael said as the driver pulled up next to him. “Sweet ride.”

“My baby.” Teddy stroked a hand along the car’s dashboard. “Don’t tell June, though. She’s liable to get jealous of Betty Grable here.”

“Oh, I think June knows. And approves. As long as you have something to occupy your time during retirement.”

“You’re right,” Teddy admitted with a good-natured chuckle. “Every hour spent in my garage restoring this baby is another hour she can spend playing bridge.”

“Or torturing me at Good Sport.”

“You’re her favorite pet project. Especially now that you’ve pretty much left the running of the store to her in favor of playing knight errant to Noelle Robinson. Her words, not mine.”

Teddy fixed Michael with a speculative gaze, not unlike one June would’ve leveled at him… if he hadn’t gone to such great lengths to avoid her.

“I’m pretty sure June is glad to have
me
out of her hair, too,” Michael said, doing his best not to show a reaction. “Noelle needed me more.”

“It’s been a long time since you’ve had anyone to look after. Noelle is easy on the eyes, too. Not sure what your brother was thinking to let her go.”

Michael didn’t have an answer, especially as he couldn’t imagine choosing
anyone
else over Noelle.

“Well, maybe his loss could be your gain,” Teddy said.

Better not to answer Door Number Two, either.

Teddy grinned. “You always were a man of few words.”

“Yep. Stay out of trouble that way.”

“Don’t I know it?” Teddy obligingly backed off the subject. “Where do I line up anyway?”

Glad to be swerving back into the slow lane, Michael’s shoulders relaxed. “You’re after the youth center float. Turn right at the igloo and watch out for the 4Hers.”

Teddy let out a guffaw. “Pooper scoopers hard at work?”

“You know it, but there’s a lot of grass to cover out here.”

Teddy
ah-uuu-guhed
again and drove off across the field. Michael went in search of some stilt walkers. Ali with an
i
favored him with a finger wave as he passed and pointed her chin at the trombone player behind her, who, of course, was currently engaged in an intense study of Ali’s…
pom-poms
.

Shaking his head, Michael continued down the line. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of Noelle’s pink parka as she hurried toward him. As she stepped out from behind a classic Rolls Royce, a sleigh pulled by eight reindeer — or rather the float carrying the sleigh — veered right into her path.

“Noelle!”

Michael’s shout alerted her to the oncoming danger, but the sight of Santa’s transport bearing down made her freeze. He took off. The footrace lasted no more than seconds, but it might as well have been hours. Michael reached Noelle in four long strides and snagged an arm around her waist, pulling her up against his chest.

“Watch where you’re going with that thing!” he shouted as the float squealed to a stop.

“Sorry!” the driver called out.

Santa’s sleigh resumed its trek to the back of the line, and Michael turned his attention to the woman in his arms.

“Wow,” Noelle said on a deep exhale. “Parade organizer almost got run over by a reindeer.”

Once again, Michael found himself staring down into her eyes, which were now a deep aqua.

“You all right?” he asked, hoping his voice wouldn’t betray the effect she was having on the rest of him.

“I think so,” she said. “I didn’t realize running Christmas could be hazardous to my health.”

Michael hadn’t realized it could be hazardous to his peace of mind.

Every impulse shouted at him to lower his head and taste her lips. Noelle’s breath hitched again, and she lifted on her toes.

So close…

“Hey! Everything all right here?”

…and yet so far.

A cattle prod might have jabbed her in the side, Noelle jumped so fast. She spun to face her sister.

“I saw Santa’s sleigh almost mow you down,” Holly said.

Noelle opened her mouth, but no words emerged.

While she did a good impression of a fish out of water, Michael stepped in. “Everything is fine here. No damage done.”

Holly eyed him with suspicion. Michael hoped she hadn’t sensed how close he’d come to kissing her sister. If she had, he might not survive the day.

Since Michael wasn’t struck dead, Holly must have missed the sparks. “And I thought the scariest thing we’d be dealing with would be the horses,” she said after a long, awkward pause. “Didn’t count on runaway floats.”

“Neither did I,” Noelle said, having finally recovered her voice. “Actually, I almost became a pancake because I was too busy looking for Michael to pay attention. We have a big problem.”

“What?” Michael asked.

“Howard Lansing fell off his porch putting up Christmas lights yesterday and broke his leg,” she said, the way one might mention a bomb was ticking down to zero.

Holly gasped in horror. “Oh no!”

Noelle clasped her hands together, obviously trying to stem panic. “It’s awful.”

“Was the accident that serious?” Michael asked, wondering if the two sisters would abandon the parade in favor of another hospital visit.

“I don’t know,” Noelle said. “Right now what matters is that Howard plays Santa in the parade every year.”

“Are we out a St. Nick for the entire season?” he asked.

“No, we’ve contracted with an agency to get Santas for the Village,” Noelle said.

“There’s an agency for that?”

“Of course, and you have to book almost a year in advance,” Holly answered, as if knowing Covington Falls worked with a talent agency to hire St. Nick was a given. “Getting the right Santa is crucial for a successful season. What happens if you get one that can’t stand kids?”