Unforgettable Christmas Dreams: Gifts of Joy

by Rebecca York

  “Why?” Levi brushed the sweat from his forehead. To a stranger, Stephanie seemed as sweet as homemade apple pie. He would not send Eliana into the lion’s den, not unless he could arm her with ammunition.

  “I have a business proposition I’d like to discuss.”

  “And what exactly is that?” he asked while he continued to work.

  “It’s confidential, so I can’t really get into it with you. But trust me when I say it would greatly benefit her.”

  “I’ll give her the message.” Only he’d tell Eliana that whatever proposition Stephanie had, Eliana should run, and run fast.

  “Thanks.” Stephanie draped her arm over one of the wooden posts. “No charter this afternoon?”

  “Nope.”

  “I was going to head over to Drifts for drinks and dinner. I’d love it if you’d join me. Maybe we could go to a movie after.”

  For the first time, Levi lifted his gaze. “We’ve been over this before. I don’t date. I’m not ever going to date. And if I did, it wouldn’t be with you.” His mother just rolled over in her grave. She’d raised him to be a gentleman. Well, the first twenty times Stephanie asked him out, he’d turned her down politely.

  “You know, I’m not like your ex-wife.”

  He chuckled.

  Stephanie reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Not all women are bitches.”

  He bit back a full fit of laughter. “That’s a true statement, but, and don’t take this too personally, I’m not interested. You’re a pretty lady and nice enough, but I’m happy being left to my own devices.” He nearly gagged on the nice part, but there was no reason for him to be a total dick.

  “All right, but you still have to eat.”

  “And I have a really nice grouper I caught this morning with my name on it.”

  “Sounds delicious. Shall I bring a nice bottle of white?” She massaged his biceps.

  “That wasn’t an invitation.” As gently as he could, he removed her tacky hand from his body. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’ve got a lot of work to do.” He turned his attention back to the landscaping.

  Stephanie made a loud exhaling sound. “Have it your way, but one of these days, you’re going to realize you let a real prize get away.”

  “That will be on me then, won’t it?”

  “See you around town.” Stephanie’s heels clicked on the sandy pavement. That woman was a piece of work. He pitied the fool who fell for the likes of Stephanie Peters.

  A vision of Eliana sashaying down the docks with her hips swaying in a sexy swagger filled his mind. When she’d had the panic attack, his heart tightened. While she read the short article, he could see the panic fill her eyes, and her hands trembled. He’d wanted to push to find out more about how much Scott had really taken her for, but something told him her pride would get in the way of opening up to him. He could understand that. Besides, they had just met, and he suspected he’d be seeing her again soon, and maybe then he could get a better idea of what happened and how he could help.

  Christ. He really needed to put his good Samaritan days behind him.

  The sound of a Harley’s engine rolling to a stop in the parking lot rumbled Levi’s ears.

  He set down the shovel, snagged a water bottle, and leaned against a palm tree. If anyone pressed him to name a best friend, he would have to say Liam. They had meet during SEAL training and had pushed each other to be the best they could be. Two years later, they found themselves on the same SEAL team. They served together until five years ago when Liam left the military because his wife had become pregnant with their first child. Since then, he worked as a private bodyguard for the rich and famous.

  And there was a lot of money in Jupiter.

  It had been Liam who offered Levi a place to crash when he’d found his ex-wife in bed with another man.

  Levi owed Liam his life in more ways than one.

  “Look what the cat dragged in,” Levi said. “You just missed Stephanie Peters.”

  “What the hell did that woman want?” Liam couldn’t be taller than five-nine, but he was built like a Mack Truck with massive muscles. Both arms and his back were lined with tattoos. A red baseball cap covered his bald head.

  “She was looking for the new owner.”

  “Christ. I heard she’s got a client looking to build condos in the area.”

  “This space isn’t close to being big enough,” Levi said.

  “True. But Leslie told me that Stephanie’s client has put in an offer on the old Hanson property as well as the Groveland office buildings.”

  “But that’s all zoned commercial, not residential.” The only reason Levi knew any of that crap was because he’d recently taken out a charter filled with local businessmen who talked about an outsider who thought this location would be better utilized for a mixture of condos and restaurants.

  None of the locals wanted condos on the waterfront. Across the street was fine, but no big structures on the ocean.

  “It will never happen unless someone can buy up enough property and then propose something like 1001 Skies with its maximum of three stories and brings in money to this town.”

  “That’s the last thing we need.” Levi glanced at the small surf shop next door. The owner had been struggling ever since Castaways had closed. As a matter of fact, every business from Castaways east complained that profits in the last year had dwindled.

  “Well, if we want to keep out condos and outsiders, then we need Castaways to be restored to its glory.”

  Levi couldn’t agree more, and now that he’d met the new owner, he’d figure out a way to help her. “What brings you by here?”

  “I saw your boat when I crossed the bridge and thought I’d see if you were coming tomorrow for Thanksgiving dinner, since you haven’t responded to my invite.”

  As much as he loved Liam and his family, Levi struggled being around the adorable Cloe. At four years old, she had stolen his heart, and he’d do anything for that little girl.

  Only every time he saw her, it just reminded him of everything his wife had taken from him. Until recently, Liam had tried to set Levi up at every corner. Liam believed that the right woman would make Levi forget about everything Maria had done.

  “I think I’m going to spend tomorrow trying to deal with all this overgrown shit and maybe check if any of the bars are salvageable.”

  Liam arched a brow. “Why the hell would you do that?”

  “Because I met the new owner an hour ago, and Scott took off with her money as well as things she purchased for Castaways.”

  Liam ran a hand across his goatee. “Fuck, that sucks.”

  “I have a feeling she’s lost a lot more than anyone else. She told me she had custom-made counters and tables delivered here and that Scott signed for them, but he’s done absolutely nothing to this place, and those items are nowhere to be found.”

  “Jesus. That man is a piece of shit, and if I ever see him again, I will have to break my promise to my wife and put my fist through his nose.”

  Levi chuckled. “Leslie will be the first one to toss a punch.”

  “You’re right about that. Leslie is still steaming, and she’s been calling Joe day and night. I think he wants to hire her to work in his office.”

  “Your wife would make a great private investigator. How do you feel about her going back to work?” Levi asked, swallowing his pride. He never begrudged his buddy his happiness, and Levi loved Cloe and Leslie, but there was only so much he could take. He’d come to Florida because everyone called it God’s waiting room. It was bad enough to be forced into retirement, but to come home and find out your wife was fucking your neighbor, that really put Levi in a foul mood.

  “I never asked her to give up her career; she did that all on her own. But since Scott stiffed us, she’s feeling the pressure to help out, which is silly. Things might be tight, but we can pay our bills and put food on the table.” Liam shrugged. “She can work or not work. I’ll support her no ma
tter what she wants, but after the last miscarriage, she’s all over the map.”

  “She just needs time.”

  “I know,” Liam said.

  “Cloe’s a lucky little girl to have you and Leslie as parents.”

  “No. We’re the lucky ones,” Liam said with a beaming smile. “But little Cloe misses her uncle Levi, who doesn’t come around near enough.”

  “You’re going to use a toddler to guilt me into coming for turkey dinner?”

  “I have no shame.”

  “What time will the bird be ready?” Levi asked, knowing he couldn’t say no to Cloe. “And I’m not coming for the entire day or to watch football. I’m coming for a bite to eat, hang with Cloe, and then I’m out of there.”

  “I can accept that. Dinner is scheduled for four.”

  “I’ll be there at three thirty. What can I bring?”

  “Your sense of humor because Cloe will want you to play pretty-pretty princess.”

  Oh, good Lord. Levi could only imagine, because the last time he’d played with Cloe, he ended up with blue sparkly nail polish. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Perfect. Thank you. Can I give you a hand with some of this? Leslie and Cloe are visiting Leslie’s grandma and won’t be home for a good two hours. Besides, I really don’t want condos going up here.”

  “I won’t turn down that offer.” Levi handed him a pair of bush sheers. “Why don’t you trim over by the entranceway.”

  “You got it, man.”

  Levi turned his attention back to the half-dead tree that needed to be removed, wishing he’d gotten Eliana’s phone number.

  Next time.

  Shit. Maybe if he had her once, he could forget all about her and go back to sitting in God’s waiting room versus feeling like being alive might not be a bad thing after all.

  Chapter Three

  Eliana gripped the steering wheel and stared at the closed doors in front of Home Depot. Normal hours for a Thursday would have been eight in the morning to nine in the evening. She should have known that everything in Florida would be closed on Thanksgiving. “Shit,” she mumbled. Well, she might not be able to get all the gardening tools she needed, but she could spend the day assessing the damage at Castaways, getting some cleanup done, making lists, and doing a whole lot of thinking.

  As she drove over the Indiantown bridge, she glanced at the Intracoastal Waterway. A couple of boats idled in the channel. The sun danced across the ripples, reflecting warmth back up toward the sky. Twenty-four hours in Jupiter and she’d fallen in love with the location. Her apartment was in walking distance from Castaways on the Inlet as well as other local establishments, not to mention a five-minute stroll to the beach where she’d gone for a long walk this morning. She had no desire to return to Vermont, especially with her tail between her legs. Even if she had to give up on her dream, she wouldn’t return to her hometown.

  There was nothing left for her there anymore.

  But did she have anything in Florida?

  She pulled into the parking lot at Castaways right next to Levi’s pickup. She assumed he’d gone fishing. That probably hadn’t gone over too well with his family. She remembered one such holiday morning that had been sixty degrees back in Vermont when Gino decided to play eighteen holes while she slaved over a turkey feast for his family.

  Looking down toward the docks, she noticed Levi’s boat. She frowned. He’d been a tough read. He came off a little rough around the edges and aloof, but also a bit like a true gentleman, which threw her for a loop. She wanted to dislike him for his crude comments and the distant way he came off, but that proved to be hard when he’d been so kind, giving her the nasty news of her contractor.

  But it was his kindness that also put her on the defensive. If she’d learned anything from her failed marriage, it had been that good looks were always a lie, and most men were selfish bastards.

  She slipped from her vehicle and gasped when she noticed the freshly trimmed entrance to the bar area. She eyed Levi standing with his back to her in front of the dock area as he chopped down one of the dead trees. Her eyes soaked in his raw sexiness, reminding her that she was still a woman, but when he raised the ax again, rage flared deep in her gut.

  “Hey,” she yelled. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Good morning to you too. I brought a thermos of coffee, and I actually have an extra mug. Feel free to help yourself.” He raised the ax and slammed it back down into the trunk of the palm tree. The fluid motion of his flexed biceps held her captive.

  A thick lump formed in her throat, making it difficult to swallow, much less speak. She opened her mouth twice, but nothing came out. Third time’s the charm. “I don’t want coffee. I want to know what you think you’re doing and why?” She planted her hands on her hips, squeezing tightly, needing something to hold on to.

  “Making room for smaller, more colorful plants. Or maybe you can open this up and have a sitting area down by the docks like some of the other restaurants down here. Either way, you’ve got to clear this place up.”

  “And what makes you think I’d want that tree down or that I’m even ready to start with the landscaping?” Anger flared with every syllable.

  “Well, you don’t want to leave it like this. That would be stupid.”

  “Are you calling me stupid? Are you implying I don’t know what I’m doing?” Men. Were they all alike? What made them think they could do whatever they wanted, whenever they wanted? And why did they all think women weren’t capable of doing anything but sitting there and looking pretty? “I have a degree in hotel and restaurant management.”

  “I thought you might like some help clearing all this stuff out. No need to get defensive.”

  “You have no idea what my plans are for the landscaping or any other part of this establishment, and I resent you taking matters into your own hands.” Nothing worse than a pushy man who thought he knew what a woman wanted or needed. “For all you know, I have a crew coming here any minute.”

  “I doubt that. It’s Thanksgiving. And all I’ve done is remove dead trees and bushes and trim back the overgrowth. I don’t have any intention of planting or anything like that. Just trying to help. Be neighborly. Considering what Scott did to you, I thought it was the right thing to do.”

  “Well, you’re obviously not married, in a relationship, or have a business partnership, or you’d understand that what you just did was overbearing, controlling, and just plain rude.”

  “Rude? Helping someone in need is rude? Since when?” He glared as if to shoot daggers from his eyes.

  “Since I didn’t ask, and I don’t need or want your damn help.” She stepped behind the main bar and cringed at how badly warped the wood had become. She’d hoped it would be salvageable for some kind of opening in a few weeks. She’d filed for her liquor license, which had come in the mail, and she had all the necessary paperwork to open the bar and grill. She even had a few local bands lined up, which at this point she’d need to pay regardless. All she needed was a working space to do so and a few employees.

  She reached above her head at the rolling metal wall, but it didn’t budge. Without the ability to lock the bars, she couldn’t stock them. Of course, no way could she serve anyone from behind these suckers. And where would anyone sit, and what and where would she cook? Talk about a clusterfuck. She twisted her hair and pulled it up into a messy bun.

  Think.

  Solve.

  No problem is too big to tackle.

  You got this.

  Levi took a white rag and wiped the sweat from his brow. “If you want to get this place opened, you’re going to need help, and I’m willing and so are a couple of my buddies.”

  “Why? What’s in it for you and your friends? What do you want?”

  “We all have jobs, so this would be a second gig for all of us, but a small paycheck would be nice.”

  “Well, that’s a huge problem because I don’t have any money.” Bitterness smacked
her throat. Try as she might, she couldn’t swallow it. The nasty taste lingered in her mouth like garlic cheese fries.

  “I’m willing to help you for free boat storage.”

  She needed that money to pay her bills. “It’s damn fucking presumptuous—”

  “Do you want to make a go at this place? Or do you want to toss in the white flag? Because rumor has it that Stephanie Peters has a client who wants to snatch this place up along with other properties, and they want to build condos or some such shit.”

  “Who is Stephanie Peters?” she asked with a huff. “And how do you know she wants this place?” A wave of dizziness rolled over her body like a wave crashing into the shore. It retreated only to smack into her a second time. Selling would give her a little cash to live while she found a job.

  Her heart plummeted to the pit of her stomach. Gino told her she’d never make it on her own. He’d actually laughed in her face. The sound echoed in her memory like an old record with a dusty needle creating static as it skipped over the vinyl, repeating itself over and over again, grating on her nerves until she went mad.

  “Because she came by here yesterday looking for you,” he said with a fair amount of irritation in his tone.

  Eliana planted her hands on her hips and scowled. “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Because I don’t have your number, and I’m telling you now.” He tossed his hands wide as if he’d been accused of something he hadn’t done. “Look. The locals around here don’t want more condos, especially on the Riverwalk. They want Castaways on the Inlet and have been excited ever since they heard it would be reopening. I’ve got a few good men who are willing to help you for—”

  “Why would they help me?” She held up her hand. “Wait. Back that up. Why would you ask them to help me?”

  “Because if you’re up and running, I get more business.”

  “Fair enough.” She admired that he at least admitted he had skin in the game. “And your friends? What’s in it for them? Because no one does anything out of the goodness of their heart. Everyone has a motive.”

  “I never thought I’d meet anyone more cynical than me.”