Robyn

by Lucy McConnell

  Robyn rolled her eyes and opened the door. “I said, I want a hotel room in town. I-I have a date.” She stumbled over the words, not because she was embarrassed, but because she wasn’t sure that going to dinner with Gabe was a date. He might not have actually asked her out. Sometimes, she felt things so strongly from others that they were like thoughts in her head. Since she’d been distracted by the change in filming and such, she’d responded to the need and agreed to dinner before she verified the invitation.

  “With whom?” Stella folded her arms and cocked out her hip. Her spiky-heeled black boots put a depression in the wood.

  Robyn copied her posture—she was the oldest Kringle sister, after all. Not even Stella was going to out-big-sister her. “Gabe and Nick.”

  Stella’s head jerked back. “Two guys? Even I don’t go out with two guys at the same time.”

  “Ha ha ha.” Robyn glared. “It’s Gabe and his younger brother Nick. They invited me to dinner. I couldn’t say no.”

  “Santa senses?” Stella confirmed.

  Robyn threw her arms out. “They go nuts around these two. I hate to say they’re needy, but they are! I can hardly control myself.” It was the truth, so the words came out easily enough, but it wasn’t quite the whole truth. She wanted to go. Gabe was good-looking, nice, calming, and he had a way of teasing her that made her feel special.

  Stella laughed. “Fine. Take on your Christmas project, but don’t get caught up in them. You’re going out with the man of your dreams tomorrow night, and we don’t need complications.”

  “Fine.” Robyn took a step before remembering the reason she’d started this conversation. “So … the hotel?”

  Stella rolled her eyes. “Consider it done.” Her thumbs tap-danced across her phone.

  Robyn grinned. “Thanks. It’s handy having a sister around with your skill set.”

  “You owe me fruitcake.”

  Robyn groaned. Of all the wonderful things to eat in this world, from rice pudding to chocolate mousse, why did her sister have to love fruitcake? Though it wasn’t labor intensive, it took over a month of babysitting for it to cure. “If we survive this Christmas, I’ll make you one a month for a year.” She offered her pinky so they could seal the deal.

  “Aren’t we a little too old for pinky swears?”

  “The day we’re too old for pinky swears is the day you take away my hot pads.”

  Stella laughed. “Deal!” They hooked pinkies and shook on it. “Have fun on your double date.”

  Robyn stuck her tongue out at her sister as she walked backwards. “Call it what you want—but I’m playing Santa tonight.”

  Stella waved and then headed for the door that led to the stairs. They had a sleigh on the roof, and she had toys to make.

  Robyn swung into the ladies’ room and checked her hair. It was a little flat, so she threw flipped her head over and shook it out. When she flipped back up, it was all over the place, and she panicked, combing her fingers through it. “What am I doing?” she muttered as the sugarplum fairies in her stomach trilled in anticipation. She gave herself a hard look and flounced out of the bathroom.

  It didn’t take long to meet up with Gabe in the lobby. “You ready?” he asked. He stuffed his hands in his black slacks and didn’t look at her as he spoke.

  She nodded, not sure if this was how his usual dates went or if he was more friendly to other women. She wasn’t even sure if this was a real date or if she’d ambushed him into taking her home for dinner. Because of that, her expectations were low, but her hopes were high.

  They headed out to his truck without another word. This time Robyn knew what it looked like and didn’t have to wait for him to show her the way. He walked slightly in front of her anyway, scanning the shadows and listening intently. The sky was dark and the overhead lamps in the parking lot were still a dull yellow. Maybe she could get Lux down here to brighten up the place; then Gabe could relax a bit. It wouldn’t be a big deal to change out the bulbs—not when she had a flying reindeer at her disposal.

  He held the door open for her, which would normally make her think this was a date, but he’d done that when he’d been on the clock as her bodyguard. Ugh! This was so confusing. If she had just thought before she’d spoken, this would be so much easier.

  She resolved to be more positive. Whether he’d meant to invite her or not, he’d had the desire to do so. In fact, the desire had been strong enough to call out to her, so she should have more confidence. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “Weeell.” He tapped his thumb on the steering wheel, signaled, and turned in to a grocery store parking lot. “I need to pick up some, uh, fresh ingredients. Do you mind coming in with me? I’m supposed to be protecting you tonight.”

  Robyn frowned. “So is dinner part of the job, or is it … extra?”

  “Dinner is definitely extra.” He found a spot and pulled in. “I don’t want my boss to know we are hanging out, though. I’m not sure how he’d feel about that.”

  His honesty was refreshing. Robyn had been on enough first dates to know that not everyone said things as clearly as Gabe. Most guys embellished or told a fraction of the truth—the part that shed the best light on them. Stella said that was normal for a first date, but it grated on Robyn. How could you build a relationship with someone if the first blocks laid were unstable?

  She hadn’t considered that the fact that dating her might be a conflict of interest for him. “I don’t want to get you in trouble.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine. It’s none of their business what we do outside of the studio anyway.”

  She brushed her hand across his shoulder. The cab grew warm and her cheeks flushed because of the brief contact.

  “What was that for?” he asked, his voice deeper than before.

  She smiled. “I was brushing that chip off your shoulder.”

  His mouth dropped open, and then he smiled. “Oh, so that’s how it is? We get to call each other out, huh, Sketch?” His eyes sparkled.

  “That’s how it is.” She laughed easily. That was how she wanted it to be. Always.

  “Stay there. I’m getting your door.”

  “Bodyguard responsibilities?” she teased, though she truly wondered.

  “No. Someone called me a gentleman recently, and I liked it.” He winked and hopped out.

  She let out a quiet squeal. This was definitely a date.

  They made their way inside the store, and he grabbed a shopping cart. She stepped back and took a picture. “There are few things I like more than to see a man with a shopping cart.”

  He pushed away, the front wheel rattling. His strides were sure, and he had a lift to his eyes that told her he was happy. “Let me guess what the others are—man holding puppy?”

  She shook her head.

  “Man in a firefighter uniform?”

  She laughed. “Nope.”

  “All right, I give.”

  “Man in an apron.” She fanned her face dramatically. “A white, clean apron. It’s so hot.”

  “That’s … weird,” he said distractedly. He stopped in the produce aisle and glanced around like he was lost. “Umm …” He headed for the potatoes, threw a bag of Idaho russets in the cart, and then grabbed a head of lettuce, a container of strawberries, and a bunch of green onions.

  A mental list of possible meals came to mind—all of them delicious. “I can’t wait to see what you’re making.”

  Gabe grew quiet. “It’s a surprise.”

  She felt that answer out but didn’t find a lie. However, his back hunched several degrees as they walked through the store, like he was getting ready to ward off an attack of some sort.

  Or a disappointment.

  He didn’t want to disappoint her. That was sweet.

  “What’s your favorite Christmas candy?” She pointed to a Hershey’s endcap display.

  “Don’t know.” He barely glanced at the treats.

  A few minutes later, she tried again. “Do you have any
special Christmas foods you and Nick prepare?”

  “Not really.” He continued to throw things into the cart. With each addition, her list of possible dinners dwindled. He could be stalling, keeping her away from his house, but she didn’t get that vibe. It was more like he was lost.

  When he grabbed seaweed wraps but skipped the rice, she took the cart by the handle. “You have no idea what you’re doing, do you?”

  He cringed. “Not really.”

  Surprise lifted her eyebrows. Who didn’t know how to shop for dinner? Unless … “Do you know how to cook?” She blurted the question and was immediately filled with his shame.

  “Um, no. Not really.”

  She laughed, hoping to lighten the mood. She smacked his arm. “Then why did you invite me over for dinner? We could have gone out.”

  He ducked his head. “It was Nick’s idea. I told him it was crazy.”

  Her heart tumbled into her shoes. She must have misread everything. “So you don’t want me—”

  His head snapped up. “I do. I want to make a good impression. I figured I could watch a MyHeartChannel video or something, but I didn’t have time.” His blue eyes filled with regret. Luckily, she understood that it wasn’t aimed at her; it was that he wasn’t able to be the man she thought he was.

  She shook her head. “You’re cute when you’re humble.” She bumped his hip with hers, scooting him out of the way and taking over the cart. “I’ll do the shopping and cooking, you keep me entertained, and we’ll call it square.”

  His whole body sagged with relief. “That would be great.”

  She walked them back up the aisles they’d just gone through, putting some things back and taking others.

  “Why do you love Christmas so much?” he asked.

  She mentally tripped over the obvious answer: my dad was Santa Claus. Couldn’t really throw that one out there on a first date. “My family is big into Christmas. I grew up knowing it was the most important day of the year.” She pointed to the vanilla ice cream behind the glass, and he went in after it.

  “What’s your favorite Christmas memory?” she asked quickly. Turning the attention on him would keep her from having to hide her family’s identity or get creative with the truth. If she was backed into a corner, she’d blurt out something embarrassing like my best friend is an elf.

  “Probably the first year I got Nick. He was six, and there was a fire engine under the tree. We spent all day playing with that truck. It was like I got to be six all over again and had a brother to boot.”

  “I can picture it.” Her whole being warmed at the image he created. What she wouldn’t give for a Christmas like that this year.

  “We were the best of friends,” he said quietly, looking at the floor. “What’s yours?”

  He flipped the spotlight back on her, and she scrambled to find an answer that wasn’t too telling. “That’s so hard!” She stomped a foot and smiled. “Probably the first year I got to stay home for Christmas.” She headed for the self-checkout.

  “Where would you go before? And if Christmas is so important to your family, why weren’t you together?”

  She reached in the cart for the tortilla shells and cringed while he couldn’t see her face. She’d have to tread carefully. “Christmas Eve is a huge night for the family business, so my parents would send us to my grandparents in Mexico. I was twelve the first year I stayed and helped. I felt so big and important.” That was the first year she could see herself taking over for her dad as Santa. She’d watched his every move as he prepared the sleigh and packed the gifts—moving faster than even the elves. Of course, she hadn’t gotten the chance to take over—that honor went to Ginger three years ago. That was a hard year. She’d lost her boyfriend and her lifelong dream all in one month.

  “What does your family do?” Gabe’s question pulled her out of the past.

  “We’re in toys and candy. I’m over the kitchens and el—I mean, employee relations.” Her throat burned with the almost lie. Elves weren’t exactly employees, because they weren’t paid.

  “That’s a lot of work.” He helped her unload and scan at the self-checkout line, reaching for the heavier items.

  “It is. And it’s fulfilling work. I always spent more time in the kitchen than I did with the List or in the Mail Room. When the ovens are on and the smell of sugar and butter fill the air, I feel peace and security.”

  “List?” He handed her a package of raw chicken to scan.

  Flustered because she’d slipped, she tried three times to scan the chicken before the machine beeped. “I think that’s everything,” she said, ignoring his question on purpose. “Let’s make dinner.” She grabbed the last sack and set it in the cart. If she moved fast enough, he’d surely forget she’d skipped an answer.

  Her empathy for all the guys she’d gone on first dates with—who had stretched the truth—went up by three. First dates were hard. And being genuine was even harder when you had a magical family who lived at the North Pole to hide. She’d have to cut her next first date some slack. Her stomach clenched at the idea of being filmed tomorrow. She placed a hand over it in an effort to calm it down.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Gabe as he unlocked the doors and began loading groceries.

  Robyn tipped her head back and caught a snowflake on her tongue. It melted quickly, reminding her that her home was melting away as she chatted and flirted with a man who would not help her fix things. Guilt sat up and waved. She told it to lie back down. There wasn’t much she could do tonight anyway. “I’m nervous about tomorrow.”

  “Why?” His forehead wrinkled in the cutest way.

  “I’m a horrible first dater,” she confessed.

  He finished loading and shut the door, leaning against it with his arms folded. A light dusting of snow blanketed the windshield and muffled the sound of carts on concrete and car doors closing. The world shrank to the two of them. “You’re doing great tonight.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “No cameras.”

  “Hey.” He stepped forward, placing his hands on both her shoulders.

  She grew warm at his touch, his nearness. He seemed to take up all her senses as the soft scent of soap tickled her nose. Her ears tuned in to his deep voice. She moistened her lips, feeling as though she could almost taste him.

  His eyes searched her face, pausing on her lips and then jumping up to meet her gaze. “All you have to do is be you, and I’m sure this guy will fall all over himself.”

  “You think?” She lifted her chin slightly so she could look deeper into his eyes, to detect the truthfulness of his words. Her whole body told her that he believed she was a woman of great worth.

  “I do.” He brushed her hair off her cheek, sending shivers across her skin.

  A new need hit her, one she wasn’t familiar with—or rather, she was, but she hadn’t felt it in a long time. Gabe was going to kiss her. She leaned closer, her eyes dropping to his lips.

  She hadn’t gotten far when he stepped aside and opened her door. “I’m starving.”

  She stumbled in the direction of the truck and then caught herself on the frame. She must have misread what she was feeling. Her ears burned with embarrassment. But she never misread a need. “Yeah. Me too.” She climbed in and put on her seat belt.

  Gabe had wanted to kiss her but had held back. She couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. And she had no idea if it was because he was worried about his boss finding out they’d been on a date, or if it was something else. What she could really use at the moment was a Santa motive discernment gift. Where was that when Christmas Magic was handing out abilities?

  Chapter 11

  Gabe

  “That was incredible,” Nick moaned.

  Gabe groaned his agreement as he leaned back in his seat and rubbed his full stomach. “I haven’t eaten that good in … well, ever.”

  Robyn blushed. “Go on with you!” She threw a napkin at him. All evening, her bright smiles and easy laugh
ter had filled the house to bursting.

  He smiled lazily, enjoying the sense that all was right at this very moment.

  She’d pulled a Christmas print tablecloth, lined with green holly and a matching set of napkins out of her purse. He had no idea why they were in there—did she travel with table coverings? Was that a thing for people who managed kitchens? When he asked, she brushed it off by saying something about always liking to be prepared.

  There were other odd occurrences that he was storing up but choosing not to look too closely at, because he didn’t want to break the spell she wove over his home. For example, he wasn’t sure where the large baking pan came from, but she claimed she’d found it around here somewhere. He hadn’t seen the long-stem glasses or remembered buying sparkling cider, and yet he’d enjoyed both. The best part was, he was beginning to see what “a woman’s touch” meant to a meal. The food was beyond comparison. It nurtured his soul at the same time it filled his belly.

  Nick stared at the table full of food. “There’s enough left over for tomorrow night.” His voice was full of awe. When had they ever had leftovers? Never. TV dinners came in serving sizes meant for one; pizza was gone in a night, and burgers and fries disappeared faster than you could say “takeout.”

  “I’m glad you liked it.” Robyn gave Nick a fond smile and patted his arm as she got up from the table. “You’re still growing. You need sustenance.”

  Gabe was in a happy fog. Much like the one he’d had after eating her muffins. “Did you put something in the food I don’t know about?”

  “Yes.” Robyn laughed lightly, the sound filling the room with a sense of cheer.

  Gabe’s thoughts dropped to a lower frequency, and he slowly got up. “What?” He’d worried she’d drugged him once already—and that was a small amount of food compared to what he’d eaten tonight. She might have given him enough to knock out a caribou.

  “Christmas Magic.” She wiggled her fingers.

  He blinked, sure he’d seen glitter fall from her hands. “Really?”

  “Really and truly.” She laughed again. “Come on—haven’t you ever heard of a food coma?”