by Traci Hall
She looked up in surprise, put her hand to her chest as if she might pass out or scream and then she turned the color of his red Santa hat.
“You’re pretty good,” he said.
She gestured to the basket. “I’ve been putting these together all my life.”
“I was talking about your voice.”
Whipping her dishtowel from her head, she walked toward him with her hands on her hips. “You have a better voice than me. I’ve heard your pipes too.”
“Not the same category. You have the power.” He eyed her chest.
“My boobs give me super singing powers?”
He swung her around, handing over the bottle of champagne. “I never thought about it like that, but why not?”
“Wrong.” She read the label on the fizzy wine.
“You have great lungs or something. You can project.”
Setting the bottle on the counter she clarified, “I yell.”
“You’re being stubborn. Is it three o’clock yet?” He pointed to the bubbly. “Or can we start early? It is a holiday.”
“You are not driving my parent’s van after a few glasses of champagne.”
“Fine.” He walked around the basket. Four feet across and five feet tall? “This is a work of art. I’m going to need your help carrying it. How about you change into your elf costume and come with me?”
She shoved him in the arm, then adjusted a plate of chocolate cookies drizzled with caramel, her gaze sharp. “The elf costume was for the kids. But you might be right about needing help.” Teagan exhaled. “All the baking is done. It’s just a matter of getting the last cookies boxed. Can you do that, and I’ll go get the batter out of my hair?”
“No problem,” he said, noticing the chocolate at the corner of her mouth. He leaned in and kissed her, tasting the bitter sweet for himself. She was delicious, plain and simple. He couldn’t wait to get to know her better. His plans for tonight were tenuous at best. A beach blanket. Binoculars. Champagne. He had to come up with a better idea or he risked not getting a second date.
“Hey!” She pushed against his chest, just hard enough to get his attention. “Maybe I should do the packaging?” Teagan’s look didn’t exude confidence.
“I got this.” He rubbed his hands together. Riley happened to like organizing and was good at making things fit.
“Thanks. I won’t be long.” She looked down at her white sneakers covered in dough chunks.
“Take your time.”
“Riley,” she said, meeting his eyes with a shy smile. “Thanks.”
“No problem.” Champagne, moonlight. Damn, what would he make for their romantic dinner? He hadn’t thought about the details. Just basked in her agreement to be with him. To give him, Riley McSorley, elementary school teacher, ex band geek, a chance.
She gave him one last look, then her eyes narrowed and she leaned toward him standing on her tip-toes, pointing at his cheek. “Is that lipstick?”
Chapter Seven
Teagan got a good look at herself in the yellowing light of the only bathroom in her parent’s house. Well, there was a small half-bath off of the bakery but this one had a toilet and a shower. The aging vanity was cracked along the edge of the sink, but her folks put their extra energy into the outside and the bakery. The inside of the house was comfortable enough, they said. What did they need with a new sink when this one worked just fine?
She splashed water on her face and hair, finger-fluffing her sorry curls. Make-up transformed her from vampire to human, then she went to her old room and rummaged through her drawers.
Brown jeans and a holly green short-sleeved sweater with a mock turtle neck. Brown leather ankle boots, a brown leather belt, and a gold jingle bell on a brown cord. She eyed her backside in the mirror, deciding it was as good as it was going to get.
Besides, her music teacher seemed to be a boob guy, and that she had.
He’d liked her voice, which was cool, but she was no Christina Aguilera. He was being sweet because...she didn’t know why exactly. Did it matter, today? No.
Riley, pencil tucked behind an ear, glasses perched on top of his head, wrestled with the cellophane in the bakery foyer, the huge gift basket in the middle of the counter waiting to be wrapped for delivery.
“Whatchya doin’?” she asked.
He whirled, apprehension in those warm, cinnamon eyes. “I wanted to help. But I think I broke the machine.”
Uh-oh, she thought, walking past him. He’d organized the rest of the packages which waited by the front door. The only thing left was the monstrous basket going to the town council. She’d wrap the damn thing in saran wrap and call it a day if she had to.
She crouched down to check out the machine. “It gets stuck sometimes.” Teagan gave the roll a few tugs, adding a kick to the metal base until it jiggled.
“Uh, you don’t worry that might break it?” Riley’s voice held concern. “I could get a screw driver.”
“Works great just like this.” She dared him to argue, her hand on her hip. “It’s finicky, that’s all.”
He shrugged and helped her get the basket wrapped. She added a green and gold bow with golden streamers. “There. How’s that?”
“Mine wouldn’t have looked so good.” He stood back in admiration, his hand on his chin, his glasses on his nose where they belonged. Sexy.
She tossed her hair over her shoulder with a wink. “It’s all in the wrist.”
“Nice.” His gaze lingered on her face before taking in her jeans and sweater. “You cleaned up quick. Now I feel underdressed.”
His cheek was scrubbed free of the lipstick from the tipsy customer. He’d been embarrassed, but so dang cute she couldn’t be mad. She had no right to be mad. Riley was an underpaid employee. But after three? I’m glad I brushed my teeth. “You look fine. Let’s go, I hear Mr. Wallace can be kind of a bear.”
It took both of them to get the basket packed in the van. He drove and she sat shot gun, running the few deliveries to the door of various homes and businesses on the way to Town Center.
“Go slow over the speed bump,” she instructed, wincing as she envisioned the basket falling apart. He slowed down so much they didn’t make it over the rise. He revved the engine and they peeled out, the basket falling backward with a thump.
“Riley!”
“Sorry.” He gritted his teeth. “I hope nothing broke.”
Teagan tapped the console. “Be careful. I don’t have any extra cookies this time. Now, take a left here, and we can cut down Church.”
“I like your directions better than the English chick on my GPS.”
“Does she tell you to slow down and watch the corners?”
He peered at her over his glasses. “Nope. See? Good to have you along.” The white ball on his Santa cap fell over his brow.
“Turn here,” she said with an eye-roll. “Park next to the Santa display.” Lime green, flamingo pink and aqua blue town hall buildings were decorated with pink and white tinsel, and all of the palm trees had red lights.
“You don’t see that in Kansas.” Riley pointed to an inflatable Santa in a pair of swim trunks, riding a dolphin statue.
“You have snow.” Teagan sighed wistfully. “I’ve seen snow twice. Once when I went to my friend’s for the Christmas holiday. She lived in Tennessee. One time during a cold, very cold, snap in Tallahassee. It melted right away, but it was awesome.”
“I hate snow.” Riley grimaced like he’d eaten something nasty. “I don’t miss shoveling, or getting up before dawn to start the car and hope the snow will melt enough that you don’t need a chisel to free up your windshield wipers. You can’t leave the house without gloves, scarves, boots. Here, you can head out barefoot if you want.”
Teagan laughed. “I grew up here, and yeah, it’s pretty as a postcard, so long as I stay inside with the air conditioning. I go out without sunscreen? Blisters. It isn’t pretty.” She guessed people always wanted what they didn’t have.
Riley parked by a wooden cut
-out of Santa building a sandcastle with lobsters and crabs and they each got out. He snapped a picture with his phone. “I’ll send this to Mom. She’ll tell me that Santa is not the reason for the season. Wanna bet?”
Teagan giggled. “Why send it, then?”
He gave her a sheepish look. “Because I can? Because I am not there in the snow and misery of a Christmas without ‘shenanigans’.” He pointed at her with his phone. “Yes, I said that.”
“I like shenanigans,” Teagan confessed.
Riley nodded at her. “You think I don’t know that? Your eyes promise mischief and tomfoolery.”
Blinking, Teagan opened the back door of the van, wondering what that looked like exactly. “Where did you hear that word?”
“Dictionary.com.” He pulled the basket toward them. “Word of the day.”
She got on the right side. “You are such a nerd.”
From the left, he met her gaze over the green and gold bow. “I make no apologies, Ms. Becker.”
She liked that a lot. “Just don’t drop your end of the basket, okay?”
*****
Riley caught the emerald sparkle in Teagan’s eyes and it made all of the scrambling during the past few days worthwhile.
Christmas by the beach was a novelty for him, true, and the snow globes with the melted snowmen in them continued to make him laugh, but he could see that his elf, his Teagan, was not a beach babe. A babe, definitely, but not the bikini and a tan type.
So how to make her feel special, on the beach, under the moonlight?
Together they carried the large basket of cookies toward the door of the town council. He walked backward, choosing each step with care. Riley knew how much this meant to Teagan, even if she didn’t want to admit it.
“Careful,” she said. “The curb is right behind you. The stairs after that. How about we go...”
Riley stepped up to the curb, no problem, but his ankle twisted as he caught the stair with the heel of his sneaker.
Like a slow-motion nightmare he watched Teagan’s gorgeous green eyes widen and her mouth open in a squeal. Her hands tightened on her side of the basket and he balanced precariously, dropping one hand to the ground and pushing himself up. He righted himself and straightened the basket before it fell. There was a crunch sound as the plastic plate he’d grabbed instead of the basket edge shattered.
The whole thing was over in seconds and Teagan asked on an expelled breath, “Are you okay?”
“The cookies,” he said. Shit. He’d had one job and he’d messed it up. “I’m so sorry.”
“Your ankle?” She pointed to his leg.
It throbbed but he answered, “Fine.”
“Thank God. The cookies I can fix it when we get inside.” She nodded at him. “I’m glad you didn’t break anything.”
She wasn’t mad? Riley breathed out a sigh of relief as a middle-aged blonde woman with red and green rhinestone reading glasses opened the door. “Let me help you.” Her voice sing-songed.
“Thanks.” Cool air conditioning hit him like a winter gust. He did not miss Christmas in Kansas.
Teagan, friendly and professional, said, “Hi! Is there a place I can set this up for you?”
“Who is it for? It’s so pretty! I’m Janey. Office manager.”
“Randall Wallace and everyone in the town center office.” Teagan smiled as she talked and held her end steady. If he dropped anything else would she ditch their date? Breach of contract or something?
“This way, then. Let’s put it in the break room.” The woman’s accessories screamed Florida Christmas with a necklace that blinked green and red palm trees.
Riley couldn’t imagine who his mother might re-gift such a thing to, so crossed it off his potential “buy” list.
He and Teagan followed Janey into a sunny breakroom that smelled like cinnamon and peppermint. Gift bags were on the oval table by the window and she gestured for them to set the basket there.
Teagan nodded at Janey. “Do you mind if I take off the cellophane? I can make sure nothing was broken in transit. The cookies are so delicate.”
Nice cover for his trip over the curb.
“Oh, that would be nice.” Janey gave them a grateful smile.
Riley stepped out of the way as Teagan unwrapped the basket. With a few nips and tucks, she had it looking as festive as when they’d left, the broken plastic tray in the wad of cellophane behind her back.
“What’s this we have here?” A nasally male voice preceded the man striding into the breakroom. He arrived, tall, creepily thin, oozing arrogance from his crisp, white Oxford.
“A gift.” Janey looked at Teagan. “Was there a card?”
“Yes.” She unpinned it from the clear wrap and handed it to Janey, who gave it to the man.
“Randall Wallace,” he droned, looking at Teagan as if she might come with the cookies.
“Teagan Becker.” Her smile was polite. “Becker’s Bakery. Happy holidays.”
“Did you bake these yourself?” His eyes probed hers. Riley bristled. What was this guy’s deal?
Teagan chuckled. “It’s a family business. We all do a little.”
Randall turned his gaze toward him. “And you’re the brother?”
“The boyfriend. Riley.” Riley probably shouldn’t have said that and he hoped he didn’t make Teagan angry, but the guy was weird. Way too pushy. He turned to apologize, but Teagan was giving him an adoring smile filled with love and affection.
If only that could be the real deal, he’d be a happy dude.
“Oh.” Supremely bored now, Randall handed the card to Janey. “From the county. Did we send anything?”
“Chocolates.” Janey toyed with the beaded chain holding her glasses.
“As good as these?” Randall leaned against the doorway.
Janey’s mouth pursed as if she’d sucked a raw egg. “I, uh...”
Teagan stepped in to smooth the awkward moment. “I’m sure each gift is as special as the intent behind it. Riley? We have deliveries. I hope you both have a wonderful holiday.”
Janey quickly joined Teagan, who basically forced Randall back from the threshold. Riley came right behind them.
“And you,” Randall replied in a droll tone. He turned left while Janey led them to the right, by her desk and the front door. Freedom.
“Thank you so much,” she said. “I swear, I sent good chocolate, but your cookies look divine. I might have to send over a bottle of champagne for the New Year to make up for it! Can I get your card?”
“Sure.” Teagan leaned close. “Janey, I put extra boxes next to the basket, so make sure everybody gets to take some home, okay?”
“How thoughtful. Thanks!”
Riley opened the door to bright blue skies and decorated palm trees. The last two Christmas’s he’d gone back to Kansas but this year he’d planned to embrace the season and celebrate on the beach with his neighbor Carrie and a couple of friends from their complex.
Teagan put her arm through Riley’s as they walked to the car. “Boyfriend, huh?”
“Yeah. Are you mad?”
“Nope. You’re full of surprises. But just know that I am leaving here, okay? Whatever happens between us, I have an entire continent to see. A traveler’s backpack. I plan on buying a Europass.”
He wanted to go with her. For the first time since he’d graduated high school, he was tempted to throw everything away on a whim. The thrill passed.
His mother had drummed it into his head that he had to be responsible. He had to take care of himself—maybe someday her.
He opened the passenger door. “Madame.”
“You’re sweet, Riley.”
He didn’t want to be sweet. He’d prefer hot. Spicy. “You hungry?”
“No. Tired, though. My juice finally wore off.”
She’d been a good sport about drinking that nasty stuff, but it really did work. “Grab some crackers or something when we get back to your house, because I plan on feeding you very well
for dinner. A restaurant.” He’d call Carrie, who busted her tail at Aruba’s waiting tables. She’d know the hot spots.
“Are you sure?” She slid into the van and shut the door. Riley went around to the driver’s seat and climbed in as she continued, “You wanted a date on the water.”
He started the van, imagining candle light and a picnic under the stars. The picnic could wait for another time. Tonight would still be special—he’d be with Teagan. “Let’s celebrate the holiday in style. We can drink champagne on the beach afterward.”
“Less mess than a meal on a towel. No sand in the sandwiches.” She brushed a curl out of her eyes. “I’m game.”
“There’s a whole world out there to explore that maybe you haven’t seen yet.” Now that the deliveries were over, he missed his Acura. Far from sporty, it was less than a year old and had an awesome stereo. The van only had one working speaker.
They stopped at the light on Commercial and he tossed a peppermint candy cane at Teagan. “Here. Sugar rush.”
She caught it, unwrapped the candy and popped it in her mouth. “Thanks.”
“Teagan!” A guy covered in tattoos pounded on the passenger side window. Riley’s belly rose to his throat and he slammed the van in park. “Hey!” He leaned over Teagan’s lap. “Don’t-”
Teagan patted Riley’s shoulder and pushed him back to the driver’s seat. “It’s okay.” She rolled down the window. “Hey Max. How’s it going?”
“Great. Business is great. Tourists love to paddleboard.”
He grinned, white teeth in a tan face, blond dreads and a shark tooth around his neck. Was this one of the muscle-heads Teagan used to date?
“Good to hear, my friend. Where’s Tasha?”
He jerked his thumb behind him. A young woman with even more tattoos carried a small board across her shoulder as she crossed the street. “Weren’t you going on safari?”
Teagan dimpled at the man. “I was going to Europe. Still am. Just had a small delay.”
The woman, Tasha, joined them at the window. Riley watched the seconds count down on the crosswalk. The van blocked the light. Were the hippies going to move? Get run over? What should he do?
