All He Wants for Christmas

by Lisa Plumley

  Even when she wasn’t tipsy on peppermint hot cocoa.

  Danielle didn’t want to say so, though. Not until she knew something definitive. It wasn’t fair to string along Jason—and that wasn’t what she’d intended to do—but it was obvious, in retrospect, that that’s what it looked as though she’d done.

  She had, to be scrupulously accurate, used Jason to make her ex-husband jealous. She’d used him to entertain her children during the run-up to Christmas. She’d used him to fix things and do chores around her house. She’d used him for supersexy sex.

  She’d done the latter not more than three minutes ago.

  It had been heavenly, too. Quick, intense, and blissful.

  But they couldn’t keep skirting the real issues, Danielle knew. As much as she loved being with Jason, she was still keeping secrets from him—secrets like her inventory manipulation.

  Today, she’d thought Jason had caught her at it. When he’d come in from outside, her heart had practically stopped. He’d sounded so suspicious. He’d even said she looked guilty!

  In that moment, Danielle had almost blabbed everything.

  But she’d kept her head long enough to deflect attention from what she’d been doing. Then she’d nonchalantly positioned herself in front of her computer screen, and she’d bought herself enough time to figure a way out of her current jam.

  She was smart. She knew she could do it.

  Even if she hadn’t, it occurred to her, ever managed to successfully reposition Jason on the apology-making front.

  She’d pretty much given up on discussing the idea of his acquiescing to the board of directors’ wishes. As their time together had grown more intense, Danielle had just sort of . . . started ignoring all the work-related details between her and Jason. She’d also quit contacting Chip, which was why she’d felt compelled to call him and try to schmooze today.

  After all, Danielle knew she couldn’t count on Jason to vouch for her. She was afraid to even try to do that.

  Her experience with Mark had shown her that even the most idyllic relationships could contain shattering secrets. She’d thought she and Mark were happy together. She’d learned otherwise in the most painful, betrayal-filled way possible.

  She did not want to have a similar experience with Jason.

  It was ironic, Danielle thought as she wiggled into her jeans, zipped them, then stuck her feet into her boots while Jason got dressed nearby, that she was worried about him betraying her . . . when she was the one who’d been less than honest with Jason right from the beginning.

  Determined to get her promotion—and eager to take advantage of her one-on-one time with Moosby’s famous, big-shot CEO—she’d pulled strings to make sure Jason would have to stay at her house. Eventually, she’d have to come clean about that.

  There was her “all the B&Bs are full” scheme. Her eagerness to show up Mark and Crystal by showing off her relationship with Jason. Her inventory shenanigans. Her (until recently) nonstop efforts to persuade Jason to give in to the board’s demands.

  Those would all have to be explained. Sooner or later.

  Danielle only hoped that Jason was more forgiving than she’d proven to be. Because if she’d carried a grudge against Mark for this long, who knew how she’d react if things went south between her and Jason?

  Probably not very well, given her recent history.

  Unhappily reminded of all the slightly dishonorable, definitely out-of-character things she’d done with the hope of getting promoted, Danielle frowned. Chip Larsen had dangled the promise of being recognized for all her hard work—of joining the big leagues and securing a big-city life for Zach, Aiden, and Karlie—and Danielle had snapped at that bait instantly. But if getting that promotion was making her do things she regretted, was it really worth it? Should she really leave Kismet at all?

  Probably, Danielle told herself as she watched Jason pull on a shirt that (sadly) obscured his fabulous midsection, it would never come to her leaving Kismet. If history held, Jason would leave town himself before she ever called a moving van.

  Men left. They left her, at least. Those were the facts.

  “Hey.” Beside her, Jason touched her shoulder. “Why so glum? If you’re bothered by getting frisky at work, remember I did take four seconds to lock both the doors so we were safe.”

  At his obvious concern, Danielle felt her worries sink away again. They retreated to wherever they went when she wasn’t obsessing about her past, her future, or what might go wrong.

  “I know you did. Thanks for that.” She kissed him, then rolled her eyes. “God knows, I didn’t have the wherewithal for that. Once you kissed me, I practically forgot my own name.”

  “Once you did that special thing you do with your hips, I did forget my own name.” Jason’s abashed smile touched her. “I forgot to be quiet, too. It’s a good thing there are so many sound-dampening boxes in here for noise insulation.”

  “I should probably bring a long scarf next time,” Danielle told him with a saucy lift of her eyebrows, “to keep you quiet.”

  “Ooh, kinky.” Another grin. “I don’t think you’re really the gags, whips, and chains type, though. I’m not buying it.”

  Guilty. “Stop knowing me so well. It’s disconcerting.”

  “That’s because your lame ex-husband couldn’t do it.” Jason came closer, then swept his hand along her chin. Tenderly, he tucked a curl behind her ear. “Eventually, you know, you’re going to have to stop expecting me to be him. I’m not him.”

  Danielle shrugged. “I know that.”

  But Jason didn’t take her dismissal at face value. He grasped that errant curl in his fingers, then gave it a tug.

  “I,” he said fiercely, “am not your ex-husband.”

  “I know!”

  He gave her a skeptical look. “I won’t ignore you. I won’t cheat on you. I won’t make you feel like less than you are.”

  That sounded . . . improbable. But wonderful, if true.

  “You forgot one,” she joked. “You won’t lie to me.”

  A funny look crossed Jason’s face—probably because she’d doubted his integrity, just for an instant. He had a real issue with that.

  He opened his mouth to promise not to lie, but at the same instant, someone started pounding on the back office’s door.

  “Mooommy!” Aiden yelled. “Your door is broken. Hey!”

  “Open up!” Zach shouted. “It’s almost time for the Christmas Carol Crawl! Wait till you get a load of my costume!”

  In unison, Danielle and Jason waited. Then . . .

  “I’m here, too,” Karlie said in a faux bored voice. “Come on, already. It’s our first time! We can’t be late, Mooom.”

  Jason raised his eyebrows. “First time? You’ve never done the Christmas Carol Crawl before?” he asked Danielle. “I didn’t think you were that opposed to all things Christmas in Kismet.”

  “I’m not. Not really,” she admitted, hustling to the door to unlock it. “In previous years, Edna Gresham was in charge at Moosby’s. She never let any of us participate in the carol crawl itself. She wanted all the staff here, at the store, ‘capitalizing’ on the chance to make sales while everyone was downtown.”

  “And that worked?” Jason asked dubiously as she opened the door. The kids scampered inside. “Moosby’s didn’t participate in the crawl activities, but they raked in sales anyway?”

  Danielle hugged Aiden. Then Karlie. Then Zach. Over the top of Zach’s head—well, technically, over the top of the full-size papier-mâché reindeer headpiece he’d chosen for a costume—she gave Jason a noncommittal look. “What do you think?”

  “I think this place didn’t have model-store level sales until after you took over for Edna.”

  “Aw.” Fondly, Danielle grinned at Jason. “I knew you were smarter than everyone in the press says you are.”

  Jason blanched. She felt immediately contrite.

  It wasn’t as though she followed the news anyway. Reporters
could be saying Jason was from Mars. She wouldn’t have known any better. “Sorry. I mean, let’s go sing some Christmas songs!”

  Then they all finished bundling up, grabbed their official Christmas Carol Crawl songbooks from the table in the front of the Moosby’s sales floor, and headed to the town square.

  On his way into town, Jason had driven past a sign on the edge of the lakefront: WELCOME TO KISMET: THE MOST CHRISTMASSY TOWN IN AMERICA! At the time, he’d bah-humbugged that sign.

  But now, completely ensconced in the midst of the Kismet Christmas Carol Crawl, Jason knew that sign had been right.

  In downtown Kismet, near the town’s huge official Christmas tree, thousands of residents and tourists enjoyed the holiday ambiance. The air felt crisp with winteriness, redolent of spicy gingerbread and bracing pine. The wood-sided and redbrick local businesses gleamed with multicolored lights. Their eaves flashed; their roofs were frosted with ice and snow. The wrought-iron lampposts were ringed with holly; so were the old-fashioned freestanding mailboxes. An occasional breeze made the jingle bells strung along the sidewalks chime. Everywhere Jason looked, people were smiling. Young, old, in between—it didn’t matter. Everyone seemed to love the Christmas Carol Crawl.

  Participants departed in waves, like runners in a marathon, dressed in simple—or more elaborate—costumes, depending on the person. Jason spotted dozens of Santas in red and white, several elves and Grinches, a few reindeer in repurposed two-person horse costumes with added plastic antlers, and even a number of people dressed as Ralphie from A Christmas Story in cracked black eyeglasses and blond wigs. Children nibbled on sugar cookies or jealously guarded jumbo candy canes; adults swarmed the various cafés, bakeries, and other businesses nearby.

  While awaiting their turn to depart, Jason, Aiden, and Karlie stopped at Kristen Miller’s Galaxy Diner food truck. Since her diner was too far away from the town center to participate directly, she brought her pies-in-a-jar to the square instead.

  Inside the Mobile Galaxy Diner truck, Kristen and her staff dished out mini Mason jars full of delicious pies to an eager crowd. Almost unrecognizable in a ponytail and hardly any makeup was Kristen’s celebrity pop-star sister, Heather Miller.

  “Ohmigod, omigod, omigod!” Karlie almost hyperventilated as she belatedly recognized the songstress who leaned out the window of the Galaxy Diner’s mobile truck to hand her a jarred apple pie with streusel and caramel. “You’re Heather Miller!”

  “Yes, I am. I was sort of hoping no one would recognize me, though. I’m just here to help out. What’s your name?”

  But Karlie was having none of it. “Not recognize you? You? Impossible! You’re only, like, the greatest singer ever!”

  “Thanks. You’re sweet,” Heather said. “But I do a lot more than sing these days. There’s my charitable foundation, my—”

  “You dance, too!” Karlie shoved her pie at Jason. Grinning maniacally, she executed a series of well-practiced moves. “See? I must have watched all your videos a hundred times!”

  Kristen Miller came to the window, too. She grinned. “Hey, you’re really good at that, Karlie.” She elbowed her celebrity sister. “I think you might have some up-and-coming competition.”

  Danielle’s daughter looked as though she might explode with happiness. Jason couldn’t help wishing he could make Karlie beam up at him with that kind of joy. Unfortunately, he wasn’t a glamorous, mega talented pop star. He was just . . . himself.

  He was a man who couldn’t help scanning the thronging crowd for glimpses of a satellite TV van, someone with a camera, or any other recording device that might turn his stay in Kismet into a holiday nightmare. He hadn’t been able to keep Danielle away from the carol crawl, but he’d been tempted to try.

  In the end, Jason’s foolish optimism had won out. Because maybe, even if Danielle found out everything, she’d forgive him.

  They were in love now, weren’t they?

  “Hey, what’s the holdup out here?” A man came to the window with a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. An attitude of jolly competence clung to the rest of him. “We’ve got a lot of tiny pies to move and a line down the block to get through.”

  Reflexively, Jason looked. Beside him, Aiden did, too.

  He could have sworn he glimpsed someone short, suit-wearing, and shifty-looking near the end of that line. Chip? A second later . . . he was gone. Uh-oh. Could it really have been—

  Next door at the festively decorated Torrance Chocolates food truck, Danielle caught Jason looking around. She eyed him questioningly. Jason shrugged, then went back to Karlie’s fan crush. Fortunately for him, he realized, even if Chip did somehow show up in Kismet, Danielle might not recognize him.

  Unless she’d been in cahoots with him . . .

  Shaking off that thought, he returned to the conversation.

  “Don’t worry, Casey,” Kristen told the new arrival. “We’re not ruining your baby’s inaugural outing.” For Jason’s benefit, she explained, “Casey had the idea for the Galaxy Diner food truck. He’s kind of a genius when it comes to business matters.”

  “That’s one way to put it,” Casey agreed amiably . . . if cryptically. He glanced at the Torrance Chocolates truck, where Danielle and Zach were paying for their drinks—a Bandini Espresso caramel latte for Danielle and a white peppermint drinking chocolate for Zach. “At the moment, I just want to win.”

  “Win?” Jason asked, intrigued by the zeal in his voice.

  “A friend of mine came up with the idea for the Torrance Chocolates food truck at the same time I thought up this one,” Casey told him. “Fortunately for me, Shane is spending Christmas in Portland, thousands of miles away, so I’m going to win.”

  Beside him, Kristen shook her head. “You two become friends again and immediately start competing. That’s so . . . you. And him.”

  Casey grinned. “You love it, and you know it.”

  “I love you,” Kristen returned, nearly cooing.

  Jason wondered if he and Danielle sounded that lovesick.

  “Yeeech!” Karlie exclaimed, shaking her head. “All the adults in this town are acting totally weird. My advice to you, Heather, is to just get out of here before it happens to you.”

  “Before what happens to you, hon?” Another man strolled up, carrying a fresh case of assorted pies-in-jars from the diner.

  Heather beamed at him. “Karlie, this is my boyfriend, Alex.” She tipped her head toward Karlie. “Alex, this is Karlie.”

  “Hey, Karlie,” Alex said. “How’s it going?”

  Karlie gave a disgusted groan. “Not you too, Heather!”

  She threw up her arms in indignation, then gave her idol a final disillusioned look. “I guess all those songs about boys had to be inspired by somebody, right? Just typical!”

  She snatched her pie-in-a-jar from Jason. “Let’s go.”

  “I don’t have my pie yet,” he protested, torn between wanting to have a treat and wanting to get on Karlie’s good side by storming off in a huff with her. Then he spied the stand sponsored by The Christmas House B & B and changed his mind.

  Maybe, Jason thought, there was a way he could do both.

  “Right behind you, Karlie!” He gave a jokingly exasperated headshake to the two couples running the Galaxy Diner food truck. Then, as Karlie marched off in anti-true-love protest, Jason leaned in. In a low voice, he said, “Good luck to you, Heather and Alex. Nice work, Kristen. I hope you win your bet, Casey.” More loudly, Jason added in a sulky tone, “I’m going to The Christmas House stand for some of the gingerbread men they’re selling. Let’s go, Aiden!”

  Feeling pleased with himself for his expert multitasking, Jason turned around with Aiden’s mittened hand in his. He fixed his gaze on Karlie’s retreating pink-coated figure—and on the more distant goal of The Christmas House’s stand, where Reid Sullivan, Karina Barrett, and their blended family of five kids were serving up gingerbread men—then started walking.

  Once everyone was duly snacked up
and energized, he and Danielle would reconvene near the glittery town Christmas tree, just as they’d planned, and join the next wave of carolers.

  Even now, Jason realized with a surge of Christmassy good cheer, the sounds of multistage Christmas carols floated into the air around him. They reached him from every quaint corner of the area dedicated to the Kismet Christmas Carol Crawl. It sounded something like a massive multiplayer version of “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” performed in rounds . . . except in this instance, “Deck the Halls” was the song everyone was singing together.

  A few snowflakes drifted down on the breeze. Aiden snuggled his hand more securely in Jason’s while they hustled toward those gingerbread men. And in that moment, Jason experienced a weird, wonderful, utterly welcome sense of rightness. Of belonging. Even, he thought, of fate. He’d been meant to come to Kismet at Christmas. He’d definitely been meant to fall for Danielle.

  Happily, Jason cast her an over-the-shoulder glance.

  He wanted, responsibly, to let her know where he, Karlie, and Aiden were going. He wanted, sappily, to share his newfound sense of Christmastime happiness with her.

  Instead, Jason saw Danielle standing near the Torrance Chocolates truck with her caramel latte clearly forgotten, deep in what appeared to be a very serious conversation.

  With Chip Larsen.

  The bastard had found her.

  Or, Jason thought with dawning dread, she’d found him.

  Either way, he had to do something. Quickly.

  So he sent Karlie and Aiden to rendezvous with Gigi and Henry, who were also coming along on the Christmas Crawl.

  Then, with two of three children safely taken care of, Jason squared his shoulders and made his way through the crowd toward Zach—and eventually, fatefully, toward Danielle, too.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “I’m very sorry to tell you this here.” Wearing a less-than-convincing apologetic look, Chip Larsen put his hand on Danielle’s shoulder. He squinted into her eyes. “Now, during such a festive event.” He chuckled. “The whole town must be here!”