The 6'1 Grinch

by Tiffany White

  He’d volunteered to go shopping with her.

  He’d volunteer to do anything to be with her.

  It was too fast. He didn’t want it.

  He wanted it desperately.

  Most of all he didn’t want to disappoint her.

  Garvey’s was a bistro cum sports bar. It was known for its delicious food, casual atmosphere, fifty-two-inch televisions you could see from every table and cold beer by the bucket at an economy price. Since two could eat a tasty meal for under twenty dollars, the place was always busy, even on a Wednesday night. Of course, Hollie being in real estate seven days a week, one day seemed much like any other.

  When they were seated Hollie noticed Miracle on 34th Street was playing on every television screen. She grinned to herself, thinking how very much Noel would love to be able to escape the sentimental movie.

  Hollie suggested she order since she knew the menu by heart, and Noel acquiesced. She ordered the onion blossom appetizer that Garvey’s had built its reputation on. Unlike most fried onions, these weren’t greasy. The batter was just sweet and crisp. The pretty young waitress brought them and two cold beers while they waited for their grilled chicken pastas.

  “Are you sure your beeper’s working?” Noel asked.

  “It’s working,” she promised. “You’ve got to be patient. A lot of emotion is involved in letting go of a house, even if you’ve made the decision to sell. I’ve had people change their minds at the very last second.”

  “But you think I’ll get the house?”

  “I don’t know. It hasn’t been on the market that long. The probability is that they will at least counter your first offer.”

  “So this could drag out a while…”

  “Yes. Try the onion blossom and quit worrying. That’s my job. Have you seen this movie?” she couldn’t resist asking as Noel bit into the fragrant onion petals and made approving noises. “I just love it.”

  “I’ve managed to avoid it so far.” He glanced up at the screen, then away quickly, as if the Christmas spirit might be catching.

  “So how come you want to buy a house instead of renting, or just living in a hotel while you’re opening a new store here?” she asked. “Not that I’m trying to talk you out of buying.”

  “This might be my last store opening.”

  “Have you been fired? Are you about to be laid off? Should I run a credit check?”

  “Nothing like that. I told you it was a cash sale. I’m getting bored and ready for a new challenge. The worldwide market of the Internet interests me.”

  Of course it did. He probably spoke more than one language. He’d had a European education. His background even showed in his appearance. His clothes had a European flair. He dressed very well. Better than most men. She’d chalked it up to his being in retail. But it was more than that. Noel Hawksley had style. She didn’t want to think about how attractive he was. No self-respecting Christmas freak could find a grinch attractive. That would be nothing short of emotional suicide.

  A tall young man approached their table and stopped.

  “Hi, I’m Jake. Your waitress has been called away. Her mom’s car wouldn’t start. I’ll be taking care of the rest of your order. Would you like anything else?”

  Jake had a great smile, and was distracted by the movie momentarily. “Sorry, I just love this movie.”

  “How tall are you, Jake?” Hollie asked impulsively, looking for a path away from where her thoughts had been leading.

  “Six-three. You’re thinking I play basketball, aren’t you? Well, you’re right, and isn’t it cool we’re in the finals? Did you want my autograph?” he joked.

  “Just our food,” Noel interjected.

  “Right, let me check on that.”

  “Why did you ask him how tall he was?”

  “I was just curious, that’s all,” Hollie said evasively.

  Moments later Jake returned with their pastas. He’d no sooner set them down than her beeper went off.

  “It never fails. Cold food again,” she said, checking the beeper. “Looks like we’ve got an answer. I’ll make this phone call and be right back. You go ahead and eat before the food gets cold.”

  She returned a few minutes later with Noel’s answer. “Sorry. You lost the house. Someone else came in with a bid at the same time closer to the asking price. The owner took their offer, of course.”

  Noel wasn’t sure how to react to the news.

  He should be disappointed, not oddly relieved because he found himself wanting to spend more time with Hollie.

  He wasn’t used to not getting his way.

  And yet, somehow he knew this holiday was going to have its way with him.

  Whether he liked it or not.

  Meanwhile, back at the North Pole…

  WELL, AT LEAST he was making the long-distance telephone companies have a Merry Christmas, Santa thought as he dialed yet another spa in the warmer climates. So far he hadn’t had any luck tracking down Claudia.

  “Hello, I’m trying to reach a Claudia Claus. Do you have anyone registered at your spa by that name?” He waited while the person at the other end of the line checked.

  “No, I’m sorry, sir. We have no one registered by that name.”

  Santa hung up the phone glumly. What he was doing was useless anyway. Most likely Claudia had registered under an assumed name. If only he didn’t miss her so much. This was the first time they’d ever been separated and it told him just how much he took her for granted. He hoped she was just teaching him a lesson and hadn’t left for good.

  To distract himself from that gloomy prospect, he put on his parka and trekked outside to the workshop. The elves were grumbling because he had them working overtime to make more Barbies in pink dresses.

  It seemed every little girl in the world wanted one.

  4

  ON THE DRIVE over to her office to check out some more house listings on the computer so she could take Noel out looking again, Hollie passed the Victorian gingerbread. She stopped, backed up to pull into the driveway and parked. Perhaps this house would suit Noel. She’d left without getting the phone number Ms. Claudia had promised her.

  She was about to ring the doorbell, when the door opened and two teenage girls came out. They were too busy comparing predictions to pay much attention to Hollie, who went on inside.

  “Hello,” she called out.

  Ms. Claudia called back “Coming,” and appeared a few moments later. “Why, hello—Hollie, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. I forgot to take the phone number from you for the owner of this house. I have a client who might be interested.”

  “Sure, let me just get it for you.” She disappeared into one of the rooms and returned holding a card with the phone number written on it. “Here you are.” She handed the card to Hollie. “How’s your new beau?”

  “You mean six foot one inch?” Hollie asked, tucking the card in her briefcase.

  Ms. Claudia nodded.

  “Haven’t seen him. I think about the only way I’m going to find six foot one inch under my tree for Christmas is if I order in pizza Christmas morning and mug the delivery guy.”

  “I don’t understand,” Ms. Claudia said, looking puzzled. “I must have made some mistake in my calculations. He should have shown up by now.”

  “Not to worry. Maybe I’ll get that bread-and-butter maker I was wanting. Well, I’ve got to run. Thanks for the phone number.”

  Outside, Hollie glanced down at her festive watch and saw that she did indeed have to hurry. She had agreed to meet Noel at the office and he freaked at tardiness. If she was going to spend the whole day with him looking at houses she didn’t want him in a crabby mood.

  At any rate, he was going to have to learn to lighten up.

  With a quick peek in her rearview mirror, she backed out of the driveway.

  And smack-dab into another car.

  Now she was going to be late for sure an
d Noel would be furious. Her day had suddenly turned rotten.

  When she checked her rearview mirror again and saw whose car she’d backed into, her day turned completely rotten.

  Noel was already out of his luxury car, the back of his wrists resting on his lean hips as he surveyed the damaged grille, then watched her approach.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, concern in his voice.

  “Of cour—” She began blinking to fight off a sudden bout of light-headedness. When she saw the damage to his car she, too, felt sick to her stomach. Choosing the coward’s way out, she gave in to the lightheadedness.

  His strong arms caught her on the way down.

  “Hollie, Hollie…”

  At the alarm in his voice, she blinked away the fuzzies and opened her eyes. “I’m fine. Put me down. I only had a bottled water for breakfast. My blood sugar must have plummeted for a few seconds.” She glanced at his car again. “Oh, no, look at your car. Where did you come from? I checked my rearview mirror before I began backing out.”

  “Your mirror must have a blind spot—or you do. But forget about the cars for now. I want to know how you are.”

  “If you’ll please put me down you’ll see that I’m fine,” she instructed. She was happy that he was more concerned with her than his car. She’d dated men who weren’t.

  He set her down and she didn’t faint.

  “I think both cars are drivable. It’s just a fender bender. Why don’t I follow you to your house and we can do the insurance stuff there? You’ll be a darn sight more comfortable than here in the street, and a lot safer.”

  It started snowing as Noel and Hollie pulled up in their damaged cars in front of her little white frame house. The front door was a bright cheery red, Noel noticed while appreciating the symmetry of the green shutters decorating the small wood-paned windows. As he got out of his car, the sound of a holiday banner being whipped around by the wind caught his ear. It was definitely getting colder.

  “Here, take my arm,” Noel offered, helping Hollie out of her car.

  When they reached the front door, he took her keys from her and opened the door, then followed her inside.

  The first thing that hit him was the smell of pine. Her Christmas tree was announcing it was already up and probably decorated to the nines.

  Everything sparkled—windows, mirrors, glass bowls of fruit and candy, he saw, when they entered the living area of the house from the tiny foyer. The layout was open kitchen and a greatroom-dining room. The twelve-foot windows that looked out over the backyard gave them a view of the falling snow, almost bringing it inside.

  Hollie shook off a chill. “I think I’ll light a fire.”

  “Just tell me where the woodpile is,” Noel said. “I’ll get the fire going.”

  “I’m afraid to disappoint you, Daniel Boone, but all it takes is a flick of the wrist. The fireplace is gas, though it looks real. And the house doesn’t get as dirty. Come see.”

  She was right. It did look real.

  He helped her out of her red coat and she took both their coats to the hall closet. When she returned she was rotating her shoulders and moaning.

  “I thought you said you were all right.” He started to get up from the sofa by the fire.

  “Just a little sore from the seat belt,” she explained. “I’ll get us some hot chocolate and cookies and we can call the insurance companies.”

  “Can I help?”

  “No, just enjoy the fire.”

  Noel did just that while taking in his surroundings. Candles of all sizes in holders of all descriptions, including hollowed-out apples on the coffee table, were everywhere. A garland of pine was draped over the mantel, which was also decorated with holly and clumps of baby’s breath. A loop of fat yellow yarn held the holiday cards she’d already received from friends.

  He smiled, delighted—despite his aversion to Christmas—by the festive beauty and homey warmth of her decorations.

  Noel stared into the fire. The flames hypnotized him, making him sleepy. He’d stayed up late watching a movie on pay TV in his rented room. As soon as he got this house business settled and had relaxed on a tropical island over the holidays, he’d be ready to start work on opening the new store. Since he threw himself into his work, he didn’t quite know what to do with himself when he wasn’t working.

  It was probably why he was crowding Hollie about finding a house. He should feel guilty, since she was supposed to be on her vacation. Maybe they would find a house later. When the snow stopped. Right now he just wanted to sit by the fire and relax. It was very comfortable in Hollie’s house.

  “Here we are,” Hollie announced, bringing in two mugs of hot chocolate, which she placed on the coffee table. “I put some butterscotch schnapps in the hot chocolate to calm our nerves—well, mine anyway. What do you think?” she called back over her shoulder as she went to get the cookies she’d warmed in the microwave.

  “Pretty smooth. Listen,” he said when she came back with a plate of assorted cookies, “do you have any board games we can play? I think we should wait till it stops snowing before we go look at houses.”

  She picked up a chocolate crinkle cookie and bit into it while she thought. “I’ve got a game of Monopoly. And, of course, Candyland, for when Elena stays over.”

  “Monopoly,” he decided.

  “Why don’t you call your insurance company while I find the game?” she suggested after a sip of hot chocolate to wash down the cookie, and she handed him the portable phone.

  He certainly looks comfortable, Hollie thought as she rummaged through a closet for the game. The accident hadn’t caused him any ill effects. She was the one with a new bill to pay. Her insurance would total her car for any dent over three hundred dollars because that’s all her car was worth. She’d be out a car or the money, since that was the amount of her deductible. Maybe she could just hang a wreath over the bumper until she sold Noel his house and got her commission. The car was still drivable; that much at least was good news.

  She looked out the window of the bedroom Elena slept in when she stayed over. At least for part of the night. By morning Elena had usually finagled her way into Hollie’s bed. It was still snowing. If it kept up she wasn’t going to be able to track down that Barbie doll for Elena until tomorrow.

  Her whole holiday was off kilter because of the man in her living room. And worse—she was off kilter. Noel Hawksley was a distracting man. He made her remember she was a woman. A sexual being.

  She smiled as she picked up the game he wanted to play. Off kilter or not—she planned on winning that round with Noel.

  She didn’t win.

  Noel played the game like Attila the Hun. Even knowing Noel’s aggression was fueled by his need to be thought of in a certain light, Hollie wasn’t a good loser. Not for the second time. He’d sent her straight to jail without passing go to collect her money one too many times.

  “That’s it. I don’t want to play anymore,” she announced when he gloated over his second win.

  “But it’s still snowing and I’m not playing Candy-land,” he said, and polished off the last cookie on the shiny red plate.

  “I’m going to get some stuff done, like wrapping the presents I bought yesterday. Want to help?” she asked, knowing he wouldn’t.

  “I’m all thumbs,” he insisted. “Mind if I take a nap here on the sofa by the fire until it stops snowing? You will wake me up when it does, won’t you?”

  “Sure, go ahead,” she agreed as he toed off his loafers and—finally—loosened his tie. It didn’t escape her notice that he was a perfect fit for her long sofa. She’d been torn between a love seat and a sofa, and had settled on the long, overstuffed sofa in yellow-and-navy chintz.

  He didn’t even look out of place on the chintz.

  She decided not to notice and went to get her packages to wrap.

  By the time Hollie had gathered up her packages, Noel was snoring softly in fro
nt of the fire. It was just as well he hadn’t offered to help; he would have given her a lot of grief over how she wrapped her presents. Christmas brought her creativity to full bloom and every year she did something different in the way of wrapping.

  This year she’d decided on white wrapping paper, which she tied with bright red yarn. Then, with the help of a glue gun, cotton, glitter, buttons and bows, she personalized each package with Santas and elves and reindeer, before using red marker pens to outline the recipient’s name, which she then filled in with red glitter.

  It wasn’t an idea she expected ever to repeat because it was extremely time-consuming … over-the-top Martha Stewart. Still, when she had all the gifts personalized and stacked under the tree they did look awfully festive and special.

  Noel had proved to be a deep sleeper. He hadn’t moved once.

  She watched him sleep and thought about her feelings for him. Instant annoyance had given way to a begrudging attraction of sorts. She could imagine him as the lonely boy at boarding school and forgive him much because of it. She’d had the same loneliness for a companion growing up. As she was making allowances for his broody behavior, his expression shifted. He moaned and a sexy smile crossed his lips.

  She hoped he was dreaming of her. No, what was she thinking? She didn’t want— Well, if she were smart she wouldn’t allow her thoughts to linger over questions like how it would feel to have his lips linger over hers for real. Was he a good kisser? Would a kiss from him make her swoon? She wasn’t the swooning sort, of course, but he was the tall, dark and handsome type who was likely given to making women swoon.

  Lean and fit, he was probably a tireless lover.

  Yes, but was he a selfish lover?

  He didn’t seem the type who was given to foreplay and sensitivity. He’d sweep her off her feet and have his way then leave. He wasn’t the sort to fix breakfast in the morning as a show of tenderness.

  Tender. Now that was funny. Noel was about as tender as a cheap cut of steak.

  Just because he looked yummy when he was asleep didn’t mean he was a dreamboat awake.

  If she were the sort of woman who liked to make men over, who believed a man could change, then Noel might be a challenge. But she’d made enough bad choices to know that people seldom changed.