All I Want for Christmas

by Denise A. Agnew

  When Nick said nothing, satisfaction filled her. She had him. Abby stopped pacing and put her hands on her hips.

  He stood again, and as he walked toward her for the second time that day, a breathless sensation volleyed within her breast. He pulled off his hat, and then he took off his long, white beard. A fusion of excitement and trepidation raced through Abby as he approached. Now she could see more of his handsome face than she wanted, could see the tiny scar that added extra character to his already intriguing face.

  Glancing around the area she said, “What are you doing? A kid might see you.”

  “Humph.”

  He took another step until he was very, very close. Until only the large belly in front of him prevented him from touching her. It was a good thing. She had the feeling she couldn’t have handled that much sensation overload in one day.

  “This is the real me, Abby. Look at me closely and tell me why you want to keep me out of that job and out of your life. It can’t be that I’m an executive for Claussen Resorts. Or are you one of those snobs that hates people with money?”

  His candor melted a good portion of her resistance. Every retort Abby conceived faded before it could reach her lips. “Of course not. I don’t hate the rich.”

  “Then what is it?”

  A mother with a gaggle of children headed their way. “Put on your hat and beard, Santa Claus. Kids are coming.”

  With a low growl he said, “This damned stuff itches.”

  She gave him her most wicked smile. “Why, Mr. Claussen, I thought you liked being Santa Claus.”

  As Nick tilted her chin up with one finger so that she had to look directly into his eyes, he said, “Have lunch with me today, and I’ll convince you that I’m the man you need.”

  The man she needed.

  A slow fire flickered deep in her stomach.

  “All right.” She’d give him a chance. One chance.

  Within his eyes Abby thought she saw a promise. Something dangerous and thrilling coursed through her veins.

  Nick was right.

  She didn’t want to be near him and it had nothing to do with his qualifications.

  “Here,” Abby said and piled another box onto the stack already in Nick’s arms.

  “Much more of this, and I’m going to need side mirrors to navigate,” he said.

  Instead of answering, she grabbed a box of tinsel and put it onto the box she’d just given him.

  “If I’d have known this is what you had in mind for lunch—”

  She’d already walked away. The woman rocketed around the store like a roadrunner. After she’d changed from her elf costume to a black wool suit, Nick’s heart had almost escaped up through his throat. The skirt came to a professional knee length. But those legs...

  He watched her saunter down the aisle, perturbed with himself for finding her figure so damn distracting he couldn’t keep his mind on anything else. Her long, gorgeous legs, encased in black hose, beckoned him to follow. As he watched over the box in front of his nose, he took in the gentle sway of her derriere and the straight set of her slender shoulders. She turned and cast him an imperious look that would have made Queen Victoria proud.

  “Are you coming?” she asked.

  Nick almost groaned. He was a goner. She was obstinate and prickly, but everything about her drew him and drove him crazy.

  He wanted to work for her? Did insanity run in his family and his parents hadn’t told him? He wanted to get to know her? Understand what made her tick?

  Nick couldn’t believe he’d agreed to this. Abby Manners seemed determined to punish him for even considering the position in her bookstore.

  She’d surprised him by accepting his lunch offer. Little did he know she had Christmas Fever big time. After their stint as Santa and Elf, she’d marched him to the discount store in the mall to buy eight-foot artificial trees.

  Two of them.

  The saleswoman had set aside the trees for Abby to pick up later. Nick figured the shopping excursion had finished. Wrong answer. She scooped up a small hand basket and began tossing items into it like someone else might get there first. Finally, she’d crammed her basket full and started handing boxes to him.

  “Are we almost done?” he asked when she stood in an aisle that sported boxes of Christmas cards.

  “They don’t have any modern style cards in here.”

  “Good. Tacky as hell. I bought Victorian style this year.”

  Abby wrinkled her nose. “Sounds like something my uncle and aunt would do.” She started to bend towards the bottom shelf, but then she straightened and looked at him. “On second thought, even handmade wasn’t good enough for them. They used to pay twenty bucks for a box of ten cards made of pure cotton paper. Exclusive design.”

  “Concerned about the environment?”

  She made a sound of disbelief. “Are you kidding? Concerned about their image.”

  Her hand hovered over a box decorated with an Old World Father Christmas. Abby paused, then passed it up. She lifted a value pack of fifty cards and pointed at the front. A round-faced, red nosed Santa smiled back at her. “Now these are the kind of cards I’m looking for.”

  Shoving them into what little space was left in her hand basket, she moved onward. Amazed, Nick followed like a docile dog. That he went along with this lark made no sense to him. His stomach growled.

  Crack it up to starvation.

  His guts let out another protest. “So, are we going to have lunch or not?”

  Abby looked at her watch. “Sorry, we can’t. I’ve got to get back to the store.”

  “We were going to talk about my application. You haven’t given me a chance to prove that you need me.”

  She stopped in the middle of the aisle, and he almost ran into her. “All right. Talk. Tell me why I need you.”

  Nick’s patience faltered. He was well known for maintaining control during the most harrowing business meetings. But now he felt like a poor fool hanging from the end of a bungee rope while Abby Manners hovered above him brandishing a gigantic pair of scissors.

  He shifted the boxes in his hands. “Can we check out with this stuff first? I hate to tell you this, but I’m getting a cramp in my shoulder. You wouldn’t want me to claim workman’s compensation on the first day would you?”

  “I haven’t hired you yet.”

  “Damn, and here I thought you were going to tell me these decorations are for the store.”

  “We’ve already decorated the store.”

  Nick sighed. “Oh, yeah. Right. Well then what the hell are they for?”

  “My house.”

  His mouth fell open. “Just your house?”

  A sunny smile broke over her lips, banishing the poker face. Abby pushed her fingers through one side of her hair, tucking strands behind her ear.

  “I’m sorry. Here let me take that.” She reached for one of the boxes that teetered under his nose.

  After they’d gone through the line and they both carried two bags of Christmas paraphernalia, she headed for her car. Outside the air nipped at him with crisp, cold teeth, and Nick shivered. The sun had melted the ice that caused Abby to slip and fall last night.

  Once they’d stowed her purchases in the trunk, and she started to turn away, he reached out for her arm and held her there.

  “I was going to tell you why you need me.”

  She moved slightly and he let go of her arm. “Can you do it in ten words or less?”

  “No.”

  Abby smiled and rubbed her arms. “Then can we go inside? It’s freezing out here.”

  He agreed. He felt tired and his head ached. Maybe his blood sugar had fallen. He needed a healthy dose of hamburger and fries, and the sooner he discussed this job with Abby, the sooner he could feast.

  The store bustled with people, but Becca appeared to cope admirably. When she saw them coming she gave them a wide smile.

  “Well, there you are. For a moment I thought you’d been kidnapped.”
r />   “She kidnapped me,” Nick said.

  Becca’s eyes widened. “I guess that’s a good sign, Nick. She must be interested in hiring you.”

  Abby speared both of them with a sharp look. “We haven’t interviewed yet.”

  “You’re right. We’ve got to do it the right way. When can he come by?” Becca asked Abby.

  “Abby was going to interview me now, if that’s all right with you,” Nick said in before Abby could take a breath.

  “I’m not leaving Becca alone with all these customers.”

  “It is pretty busy,” Becca said as the phone rang.

  Abby turned to him. “Come by at closing time, okay?”

  Pleased that she hadn’t tried to skirt away from discussing his qualifications, he agreed. Maybe they wouldn’t talk about it right now, but he understood Abby’s work ethic.

  After he left the store and headed home, Nick again questioned his fervor to have this job. Hadn’t he come to Russel to decide what to accomplish with the rest of his life?

  When Nick arrived at his apartment on the other side of town, he flopped onto the couch and looked around the living room of the small, one-bedroom living quarters. Sparsely decorated in modern hues of white and blue, a small gas fireplace in one corner, a love seat and couch with a chrome and glass coffee table, it was devoid of Christmas decorations. Lacking sentimentality and warmth.

  Hell, it looked like his office. He might as well be living in a hotel room for six months. Nick sighed, removed his shoes and put his feet up on the couch. That’s what he’d wanted when he’d left his home in Denver temporarily to retreat from the life that had eaten away at him. From memories too powerful and painful in familiar surroundings.

  By keeping things uncomplicated this Christmas, he might survive the holidays. The headache behind his eyes increased, and a deep lethargy removed any thoughts of lunch.

  Nick thought back to his escapade with Abby today. He’d never have guessed shopping for decorations would exhaust him. Or maybe it wasn’t the shopping that had kicked his butt. Maybe it was Abby Manners.

  Nick had missed his one interview opportunity.

  And Abby’s mood headed straight for the toilet. As Becca helped her pull down the metal gate at the front of the store, Abby’s ire increased by the minute. Okay, she could admit that she was disappointed in him, but she was more annoyed at herself for caring.

  “I told you he wasn’t reliable,” Abby said.

  Becca frowned. “Something must have happened.”

  Abby started for the back office where they kept their coats and purses. “I just knew it.”

  Becca followed close behind. “But from what you described about what he did last night, he sounds dependable. Downright heroic in my book. He seems like a great guy, Abby.”

  Abby pulled on her coat. “Well, I guess we were wrong to assume that.”

  “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “About what?”

  “About why you’re so against hiring him. If you think any of the other applications are better, I’ll understand. But it’s not that, is it?”

  Becca had hit on the truth, but Abby sure couldn’t say that she didn’t want to hire Nick because being near him made her crazy. “No, it isn’t that.”

  “Did he say or do something to upset you?”

  “No. It’s not that.”

  The phone rang and Becca ran to answer it. Abby’s heartbeat accelerated. Maybe it was Nick.

  “You did what?” Becca said after several moments of silence. “Okay, I’ll be right there.” Becca slammed down the phone and grabbed her purse. “That was Sam. He thinks he broke the dishwasher.” She sighed heavily. “I told the man not to touch my new dishwasher.”

  Abby smiled. “Your new dishwasher?”

  “That’s right. I don’t touch the gadgets in his tool room. He doesn’t touch my kitchen appliances.”

  Assuring Becca that she’d finish closing up, Abby shooed Becca out of the store. She had gathered her purse and gloves and had almost made it out the back room door when the phone rang again.

  “Abby?”

  She didn’t recognize the hoarse voice. “Yes?”

  “It’s Nick. Look, I’m sorry I didn’t show for the interview. I just woke up.”

  Sitting in the chair behind her desk, she waited for the barrage of excuses. “We’ll withdraw your application.“

  “Abby, I’ve never missed an interview in my life.”

  “We waited for forty-five minutes.”

  He coughed, and the sound rumbled deep and rough from his chest. “I fell asleep on the couch and didn’t wake up until five minutes ago.”

  She looked at the clock. “You slept six hours?”

  Nick sighed. “Yeah. Look, Abby, I’d understand if you wanted to rip up my application.”

  The hoarseness in his voice and his acquiescence disturbed her. This didn’t sound like the Nick she knew. The Nick she knew? She’d only been acquainted with him two days. Still, something didn’t feel right. When he let out another bone rattling cough, concern darted straight through her.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, I’d say my butt still hurts, but that wouldn’t be the truth. I think I’m catching that stuff that’s going around.”

  Abby couldn’t resist. She might be stupid. She might be crazy. But she wanted to give him a chance, and the idea of him ill worried her. “Do you have any cold medicine?”

  “No.”

  “That does it then. I can’t let a possible candidate for a clerk position at Elf Books wither away. I’ll pick up some chicken soup and some medicine and bring them by. And if you’re up to it, you can explain to me why I should hire you. And you better make it good.”

  5

  As Abby rang the doorbell of the exclusive apartment complex, she wondered for the twenty-fifth time if she had lost her mind.

  Why on earth had she decided to give Nick another chance? She supposed he deserved it after the help he’d given her last night. Besides, she felt guilty about the way she’d brushed him off. Sure, she’d said thank you for helping her with her car, but she’d used him as a packhorse this afternoon. She’d been defensive and crabby with him. Most men would have said get lost, baby. Now, as she stood at his door, she experienced a major case of guilt.

  Abby, you’ve been a real bitch.

  Nick answered the buzzer and pushed the door release so she could enter the building, and she made her way to the third floor. She’d never been in these apartments before, but it didn’t surprise her that he lived in a place this chic. After all, a high-powered executive at Claussen Resorts could afford most anything, she imagined.

  When Nick opened the door, his appearance surprised her. He wore faded jeans, and his shirt looked wrinkled. His thick hair was tousled, his face pale.

  “Hey,” he said as he smiled and ushered Abby in the door.

  She held up the grocery bag. “No hay in here. Chicken soup.”

  He chuckled and then groaned as he led the way to the kitchen. “Don’t make me laugh. It gives me a headache.”

  She put the bag on the kitchen counter. “What, the laughing, or the joke?”

  Nick looked in the bag. “You didn’t have to do this.”

  “I wanted to.”

  “Aren’t you worried you’ll catch what I have?” His voice sounded rough.

  “I’m not going to get that close to you.”

  Nick snapped his fingers. “Damn.”

  Without thinking she reached up and put her palm to his forehead. His hair fell over her hand, the silky touch of it intimate against her skin.

  “I thought you said you weren’t going to get close to me?” he said, his voice feathering low and husky against her ears.

  “You’re hot.”

  His gaze was hot all right.

  “Thanks. I don’t think a woman has ever told me that.”

  She laughed and removed her hand from
his forehead. “Claussen, you are a nut. Aren’t you ever serious about anything?”

  “I’m serious about this. Thank you for bringing me the soup and medicine, and thanks for giving me another chance.”

  Her heart did a strange flutter. Every time he came near she had trouble thinking, and she didn’t like that. She was always levelheaded, despite what her aunt thought. Brazen, handsome-as-sin men didn’t make her fumble and act the fool.

  Ignoring her mixed feelings, she said, “Go lie down in the living room while I fix the soup.” Abby handed him the medicine. “And here, take this.”

  “You’re very bossy.”

  “I know. Lie down before I change my mind and leave you here to perish all alone.”

  A brash, bone-melting grin curved his lips, and she felt the heat way down to her toes.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Soon she had the meal ready, and they sat at his dining table eating soup and crackers and drinking orange juice.

  They ate in silence for some time before Nick said, “You surprise me, Abby.”

  “Why is that?”

  He finished munching on a cracker before he replied. “Just when I think you hate my guts, you get maternal on me and bring me soup.”

  “Call me Florence Nightingale.”

  “You’re a lot prettier than she was.”

  “Have you been to Ireland?”

  His forehead wrinkled. “What?”

  “Have you been to Ireland?”

  “No. What does that have to do with anything?”

  “I was going to ask you if you’d kissed the Blarney Stone.”

  “Don’t try and change the subject. I’ve seen a picture of Florence Nightingale.”

  Abby allowed a laugh to escape. “How do you feel now?”

  “Not bad. When I woke up and realized I’d missed the interview, I was hacked. It’s not like me to shirk my commitments. But then I’ve been doing quite a few things this week that aren’t like me.”

  His sincere expression compelled her to ask, “Such as? Flirting with me? I don’t believe that. I’ll bet you’ve got all the women in your family charmed.”