Finally she saw the reason she’d waited for Sarah’s return.
Rick Winzen stepped into the kitchen. He had puppy-dog friendly brown eyes and muscles.
“Hi, I’m Rick,” he offered without any prompting.
“I’m Hollie,” she said, shaking his hand, which eclipsed hers.
“You’re Auntie Hollie,” Elena piped up.
“Only to you, sugarpie. So did you like the Nutcracker?” Hollie asked.
“It was beautiful,” Sarah enthused.
“I’m going to be a ballerina,” Elena insisted, twirling in an arabesque pose.
“It’s nice to meet you, Hollie, but I’ve got to run,” Rick said. “I didn’t realize traffic would be this bad. There’s a charity event down at the firehouse for underprivileged kids.”
“Bye,” Elena said, looking up from patting Midnight.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Sarah coached.
“Oh, yeah, I had a really good time, Rick. Thank you for inviting me.”
“You’re welcome. I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow night, for our date,” Rick reminded Sarah.
“You are still having Elena spend the night tomorrow?” Sarah asked Hollie as Rick left. “If not, I can try to get a baby-sitter.”
“Right on the last Sunday night before Christmas? No, I promised Elena we’d make a gingerbread house, though it’s been so crazy that maybe we’ll settle for gingerbread men.”
“Why is Midnight all muddy?” Elena asked.
“She got out and she needs a bath,” Hollie answered.
“She got out? How did you ever get her back?” Sarah asked.
“We’ll have to ask Noel that. But I don’t think we’ll ask him right away.”
Especially not when every time she thought of a long, hot soak, she thought of Noel relaxing in the tub—naked.
“Did you have any trouble with the food?” Sarah peeked into the silver foil containers and tubs Hollie had packed the dinner in.
“Nope. Piece of cake. By the way, I do hope you weren’t furnishing the dessert, because you didn’t leave me any instructions for it.”
“Krausse is doing the cake. It will be beautiful. Her stuff is almost too beautiful to eat. You should have seen the chocolate statue she did for a wedding at the zoo.”
“Speaking of delicious,” Hollie teased.
“What?” Sarah blushed.
“You know what. Rick the cutiepie fireman what.”
“You think he’s cute.”
“Very.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
“And you have a second date. Fast worker. He must be smitten.”
“What’s ‘smitten’?” Elena piped up.
“Umm… it means when somebody likes you.”
“You mean like Noel likes you?”
“Who told you that?” Hollie asked, probing.
“Nobody. I just know.”
“Everybody knows but you,” Sarah said.
And Hollie threw the oven mitt at her.
“OH, AH, OHHHHH…” Noel groaned as he lowered himself into a tub of hot bathwater to soak his achy bones. He felt as though he’d gone a full quarter with the Rams football team instead of a diminutive little dog.
At least his headache was fading.
He couldn’t believe making Hollie like him was this painful. He hoped he’d scored enough points with her to make it worth his pain. And now he was hungry. Probably from smelling all the good food Hollie had been cooking. Perhaps if he leaned on her sympathy, he’d get an invitation out of this for a home-cooked meal.
Tomorrow night, after they looked at some houses, was going to be his time with Hollie. She owed him that much.
He’d earned it.
He settled back into the tub and smiled.
Yes, tomorrow night he and Hollie were going to follow up on that kiss they’d shared.
Meanwhile, back at the North Pole…
SANTA GROANED AS he lowered himself into the outdoor hot tub surrounded by snowdrifts.
He was tired and cranky. Nothing was the same without Claudia.
Especially not the hot tub.
He stretched out in the water and let his mind wander back to a particular starry night they’d shared that had started on the snowmobiles and ended in the hot tub.
The steam rose off the water into the frigid night air as he wondered where that infuriating woman of his was.
He’d gotten her point. It was past time for her to return home.
He missed her, damn it.
7
December 22
“THIS HOUSE IS perfect for you,” Noel insisted. “Look at the cathedral ceiling in the greatroom. You could put up as tall a Christmas tree as you want.”
“I have a house.” She threw out her arms to indicate the expanse of the room. “You could easily put a regulation-size pool table here.”
He ignored her. “Look at this kitchen,” he insisted. “It’s a custom-designed gourmet kitchen. You’re a fabulous cook, if the aromas I smelled yesterday are any indication of your culinary skills. It’s got a double oven, a convection oven and an oversize microwave. You can bake Christmas cookies to your heart’s content. The range is a six-burner restaurant-style. It’s lost on me because all I do is plug in the coffeemaker.”
“I have a house.” She wasn’t budging.
“Not if I buy it.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, indicating he wasn’t budging one little inch, either.
“Come on, Noel. My feet hurt,” she moaned, stepping out of her ivory silk heels with the classic bows. She’d paid too much for them, but since Elena kept asking her if they were old, she knew they were worth it. They made her feel confident. She had worn them for that very reason. She was determined to find Noel a house today—end of story.
“My head hurts,” Noel countered. “And it’s all your fault.”
The rat was playing on her guilt over his misadventure with Midnight. Well, she wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
“Okay, let’s go. I’ve been saving the best for last. You’re going to love this house,” she insisted, slipping back into her shoes.
“Don’t count your commission just yet,” he grumbled, following her out the front door.
“If you want to get to the islands before Christmas you’d better get in a buying mood fast, because this is about it when it comes to available houses that fit your wish list,” she warned. “In case you’ve lost track of time because you’re having so much fun—there’s only one day left until Christmas Eve.”
“Only two shopping days left until Christmas. I know, I know.” He grimaced. “You can’t turn around without being bombarded by the date.”
“Speaking of shopping, we have to make a stop at Julian’s on the way to this last house.”
“Your hairdresser?” he guessed.
“Shoe boutique. They finally got in the pair of shoes in my size that I want for Christmas.”
“What, do they have little jingle bells on them?” he asked, grumpy and rubbing his sore head.
“No. They’re white satin with ankle straps and tiny rosebuds.”
“I’ll wait in the car.” He slid down in the seat and closed his eyes.
She was glad he waited in the car. That way no one was there to raise an eyebrow at her when she impulsively added a pair of daring red sling-backs to her bill. “Merry Christmas, Hollie,” she said beneath her breath. Now she really had to get that commission by selling Noel a house. There was no incentive like a little indulgent shopping.
Stowing the shoe boxes in the trunk, she saw the little baskets she’d bought in which to pack the holiday bread she’d baked for the neighbors. She was way behind schedule on her Christmas preparations. Making a mental note to remember the baskets, she slammed the trunk with conviction. He was going to buy this house or else.
“Something wrong with the shoes?” Noel slid her a questioning lo
ok as she got back in the car.
“No, why?”
“Well, the way you slammed the trunk, I figured maybe there was a problem.”
There was a problem and he was it. But she refrained from pointing that out to him, her discipline as a real estate agent coming to her aid—holding your tongue when you felt like screaming was one of the top ten requirements of a successful agent.
“By the way, you can cross one thing off your list,” he said when she didn’t answer. “I located a Barbie doll with a pink dress.”
That got her attention. “How? I’ve looked everywhere. It’s the toy this season and there isn’t one to be found,” she insisted.
“I’m in retail, remember. I know where to shop, and how.”
“Yep, you just lift what you want and try not to get caught sneaking out of the store,” she couldn’t resist teasing.
“Don’t remind me. I called in a favor, okay? So don’t worry about the doll. It’s on its way by courier and will be here in time for you to give it to Elena for Christmas.”
“You still have to buy this house.” Pulling over to the exit ramp, Hollie navigated a few lefts and had them going up the secluded drive to the house on Mistletoe Lane. She hoped he didn’t notice the name of the street. Noel Hawksley probably wouldn’t enjoy living in a place that constantly reminded him of the holidays.
“It’s secluded so no one will disturb you while you’re working or destressing at the pool table,” Hollie said, beginning her pitch as they got out of the car and made their way to the house.
“And I’m trapped if the snowplow doesn’t show up,” Noel countered.
“The grade of the drive isn’t that steep that you’ll need a snowplow to get out.” Hollie took her key for the lock out of her briefcase as they reached the solid oak doors with etched-glass inserts. “It’s close to all the major arteries, so driving to the store you’re opening won’t take long. Neither will getting to a Rams game or the airport.”
“Location, location, location—the real estate agent’s creed, right?”
“Right. That means great resale value. And this house has just come on the market. You’re going to have to snap it up before anyone else sees it. It’s going to go fast. Right now we’re in a seller’s market. That’s why you lost the first house you put in an offer on.”
“We’ll see.”
His noncommittal attitude did not bode well, but Hollie chose to ignore it. She was going to sell him the house because it was right for him. And because if he got out of town before Christmas, it meant there was a more palatable six-foot-one-inch beau on his way from Santa.
She wished she’d never seen Noel’s driver’s license, because it only intensified her already too strong attraction to him. She didn’t want to get involved with a great pair of broad shoulders, smoldering blue eyes, a rock-hard muscular body that would ruin her holiday. Even if he made her heart pound and made her daydream way too frequently about what it would be like to have those large, long-fingered hands of his roaming over her body, exploring and caressing. No matter how great the temptation. She wasn’t about to allow his negativity to overwhelm her efforts to make the best of her life by being upbeat. Noel Hawksley just couldn’t be Santa’s idea of the perfect beau for her—even if he did have a sweet, heroic side to him. That side was only a side, she reminded herself.
They stood for a moment in the house. It had oversize natural clay tiles and was big enough to hold the statue of a wild horse pawing the air, which sat next to the stairs that led to the second floor.
“Isn’t this spectacular?” Hollie said as they entered far enough into the foyer to see the two-story living room that offered a floor-to-ceiling view of the woods it overlooked.
“I like the horse,” was all Noel would admit.
“Maybe we can get the owners to throw it in,” Hollie said, not to be dissuaded as she stepped down the two steps to the sunken living room.
He followed her, dragging his feet. “It’s awfully bright in here.”
“Yes. Isn’t it wonderful?”
She’d purposely taken his complaint as praise for the room. “And look over here. There’s a screened-in sunroom. It’s a perfect place for a picnic on a rainy day.”
He grumbled something unintelligible.
“The kitchen’s through here,” Hollie called out to Noel, who stood staring out the screened sunroom into the dark woods at the edge of the sloping lawn.
“Noel?”
“Coming.” He broke away from whatever called him in the darkness to join Hollie in the kitchen.
“While it isn’t terribly large, it is efficient. And it has a built-in microwave. The counters are ceramic tile and all the appliances are top of the line and only two years old.”
He nodded noncommittally.
She couldn’t get a read on him. He was purposely keeping her in the dark about his response to the house.
“The bedrooms are upstairs, I assume?”
“The master bedroom is on the first floor and the guest bedroom and additional bedrooms are on the second floor. There’s also a loft that overlooks the living room. It’s the perfect place for your pool table and big-screen television. Shall we have a look?”
Without waiting for his answer, she went through the foyer and began climbing the stairs. She heard his step on the stairs behind her.
When they reached the second floor they were standing directly in the large loft. It had the same view as the living room and from it they could see the pool.
“It’s not bad,” he conceded.
They did a quick tour of the second-floor bedrooms and baths, then headed back downstairs to check out the master bedroom.
It was oversize, with a walk-in closet as big as a normal bedroom.
“Is there an echo in here when I talk?” Noel asked, commenting on the sheer expanse of space.
Wickedly, Hollie wondered if Noel fancied hearing the sound of his name echoing in the bedroom.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, noticing the smile on her face.
Caught out, she made up a hasty lie. “I wasn’t going to mention it, but it’ll cost you a mint to mirror the ceiling.” And then realized her lie was as bad as her thought.
“Why, Ms. Winslow!”
Wanting to distract him, she headed for the impressive bath with a double shower that looked too inviting. She focused on the oversize tub. “This will accommodate your six-foot-one-inch frame,” she informed him without thinking.
“What—did you measure me or something?”
“Oh… oh. Ah, I just happened to see your driver’s license when I was looking for your insurance card.”
He let her hang for a few seconds and then made her embarrassment worse. “So now you know all the intimate details about me,” he teased.
Was it her, or had he moved closer?
They both looked at each other in one of those moments that could lead to loss of control; to acting on the simmering attraction between them.
He lifted his hand to her face and she stood stock-still, breathless.
“You’ve an eyelash on your cheek,” he explained, brushing it away.
He stepped back then, diffusing the tension of the moment. But the attraction was still there… lurking.
“Um…would you like to see the garage?” she asked, her voice cracking, giving her away.
“Yeah, why don’t we do that?”
She forced herself not to run from the master bedroom as she turned away from him. She had been that close to doing something really foolish. If only Elena hadn’t forced that kiss between them. It kept whispering suggestive ideas in her mind.
The garage was angled to the left side of the house and a basketball hoop hung above the garage door.
He picked up the basketball lying on the driveway and dribbled it, then shot a hoop. Then he turned to her with a grin and asked provocatively, “Want to go one-on-one? You aren’t afraid of me
, are you?” he challenged.
“I don’t play basketball in heels, thank you.”
“So take them off.” He dribbled around her and threw another hoop, sinking the ball.
“I’ll ruin my hose.”
“So take them off.”
“I don’t think so. I’ve played games with you before, Noel. You’re ruthless about winning.”
He stopped dribbling and balanced the ball on his hip with his hand. “Why else would you play?”
She shrugged. “I admit I’m as competitive as the next person. I like to win. But I also really like the sheer joy of playing. Having a good time. Everything doesn’t have to be about competition. Sometimes the fun is in the playing.”
“So you don’t care if you sell me this house, then. Is that right?” he asked, baiting her.
“No. I’m not playing a game here, Noel. This is what I do. It’s my career. You wanted me to find you a house. I have. It’s time you made a decision about it.”
Noel dropped the ball and let it roll to the side of the driveway. “Boy, you’re some closer. That’s it? Take it or leave it?”
“I told you I don’t have anything else to show you.”
His eyes said that was debatable, but he knew better than to push any more of her buttons.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what. I haven’t really seen your house, just part of it. Why don’t you take me home with you and I’ll decide between the two houses.”
It was certainly a step forward, Hollie had to admit, even if she wasn’t crazy about showing him the rest of her house. But perhaps if she humored him and played along with his request, she’d be able to convince him to make an offer on this house and then she’d be done with Noel.
“I’ll show you my place,” she agreed. “But I’m not selling it.” It wouldn’t be fair to give him the wrong impression. Even though she knew he didn’t pay the least heed to her refusal to sell. Evidently, he thought he could wear her down. Or maybe even charm her into doing what he wanted.
“I’d just like to look…”
And why did everything he say sound as though he were talking about sex?
Or was that just her?
The 6'1 Grinch Page 9
