Holiday Sparks

by Taryn Quinn

  And that was idiocy talking.

  A wall didn’t mean anything when two people were dating.

  No woman he’d ever been with had known the meaning of personal space. And he couldn’t bear to disappoint someone he was involved with. Because he was an idiot. He was overthinking everything.

  It was a sandwich. And it was an evening. Even if everything about her made him want to pull her in and see how she fit. That was hormones talking.

  After Jess he’d needed a break from the opposite sex. Then it just got easier to stay in his routine. Workouts, messing with the Christmas lights, the shop. Everything but going out with his friends.

  He pulled into Lou’s small parking lot. The cars were stacked fifteen deep in a lot that was barely big enough for six. The shouts from inside and the hot punch of garlic on the air made his mouth water. Lou’s was a dive to beat all dives. And the strip of shops it was in was moving into the high end of trinkets, wine and boutiques. All except Lou.

  Deli paper lined the walls with buckets of crayons nailed beneath. Red booths that had been there since the opening when he was a kid were jammed against every available wall and the deli counter was chin-high. Specials were taped up along the front breadboard and torn down daily. The signs were made by Lou’s kids, and now grandkids.

  “Hey, kid,” Lou yelled when he spotted him.

  “What are you doing slinging hoagies, old man? Where’s Dom?”

  “My useless excuse for a son is hurling up his toes.”

  Ben winced. “You poison him?”

  “Hey! There’s nothing but excellence under my roof, kid.”

  Ben laughed. A Red Sox cap sat backwards on Lou’s bald head and his sauce-splattered t-shirt hung off his shoulders as though they were a hanger. Lou was all bones and angles, but behind the counter he was magic and fluid grace. He had bread sliced open, yeasty sourdough warring with the garlic as two guys Ben didn’t know scrambled to keep up with the owner.

  “Can I get a meatball grinder and a Philly steak to go?”

  Lou made quick work of the food and wrapped the sandwiches in foil then deli paper. “I haven’t seen you in a few weeks.”

  “Work’s been kicking my ass.”

  “Inking up all those hot girls.” Lou waggled his bushy eyebrows. “They like those little designs above their butts. Nice.”

  Ben grinned. Tramp stamps, as they were lovingly referred to, never quite fell out of favor. The curve of a woman’s spine and the hollow at the sweet spot of her back was a damn sexy place to accentuate. And it wasn’t a hardship for him to do. But women forgot how sensitive it was to use the needle around bone. Fleshier girls didn’t mind, but the rail-thin ones—well, more than one had walked away with a smaller design than intended.

  “The only downside of my job is the pain.”

  “True that.” Lou lifted his sleeve to show off a skeleton in a Red Sox uniform clutching the World Series trophy. “This hurt like a bitch.”

  Ben took the food. “Because you’re goddamn skin and bones. You should come in and let me retouch that.”

  “What and jinx my team?”

  Ben rolled his eyes. “I’ve got the lucky touch, didn’t you get the email?”

  “I’m too busy feeding you vultures. Next!”

  Ben texted Cesar and with no emergencies on the horizon, he maneuvered his way out of the clusterfuck that was Lou’s and back to Darcy. No—back to the store. Back to the job at hand. The job just happened to have a lovely side benefit, that was all. He tucked their food into his messenger bag with a fistful of napkins from his console.

  After a quick unloading with Petey, he braved the store. He slung the bag over his head and behind him as he stacked the materials next to the base of the tree. He had a good eight hours of work ahead of him and that was if everything went smoothly.

  He scanned the room and found her. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders as she pushed it back with a harried look. She was bent over her little tablet, flicking through screens as Jaime ticked off something on her clipboard.

  Looked like trouble to him.

  He dumped the last case of lights and walked over to the customer service desk. It was quiet at the store. A little after two in the afternoon, it was a wasteland compared to what it had been right before lunch.

  “No, he’s over hours.”

  “What about Henry?”

  “He’s not really ready for being on his own, is he?”

  “I trained him,” Jaime said, “and I can watch for any issues.”

  “Okay, call him in. He’s eager and wants hours.”

  Jaime scribbled something.

  “Hey, ladies.”

  Jaime smiled. “Hey, Gigantor.” She sniffed. “That’s not cologne, doll. What do you have?”

  Darcy leaned forward and took a long sniff. “Better than cologne.” She looked up, her eyes widening. Her cheeks flushed and the freckles he hadn’t noticed before flared. She cleared her throat and drew back. “You brought me food.” She moaned. “I can’t get away.”

  His chest tightened at the soft sound. Is that what she’d sound like under— No. He was here to work, not think about Darcy and the sounds she made when she relaxed. Hell, would she relax even during sex? She was always so wound up.

  “Yes, you can.” Jaime pushed her portable tablet away from Darcy. “It’s as close to calm as we’re going to get.”

  “But we’ve got three callouts.”

  “And we’re dead. Go, before we’re not. Gary is on the floor so if something comes up I’ll call him.”

  “He’s useless up front.”

  “Yeah well, as long as we don’t have another customer like bike guy, then I don’t need him.”

  Ben’s fingers stiffened on his strap. Petey had shown him pictures from the day before. He still wasn’t positive it was his brother, but damn, it had been a mess. “C’mon, Darcy. We need to go over what’s happening the rest of the day anyway. Can’t let me go unsupervised, can you?”

  Darcy sighed. “No, I suppose I can’t.”

  Man alive, this woman didn’t know the meaning of the word teasing. He pulled his bag over his head. “I’ve got a meatball grinder. Darcy, eat me,” he said in a faux Muppet voice as he wagged the flap.

  She huffed out a laugh. “All right.” She slid her tablet into her hip holster. “Call me if you need anything, Jaime.”

  “Go.” When Darcy hesitated, Jaime shooed her. “Go and leave me be. I’ll call Henry.”

  “I’m going.”

  Darcy rounded the counter and snatched the bag out of his hand. “I could eat the bag I’m so hungry.”

  “Lunch room?”

  She nodded to the back. “Near receiving. We have a little employee room.”

  He followed her and again she outstrided him. He picked up his pace and caught up to her. “Racing?”

  She slowed down. “Sorry. I should probably get one of those fitness watches. I have to walk a dozen miles in here a day.”

  “Who needs the gym?”

  She smiled. “The day I get a desk job is the day my butt goes to the gym.”

  “Do you want to do something different?”

  “No. I’ve been here since I was seventeen. I love it.” She tapped a code on the door. “Most of the time.” She backed into the door, swinging it open for him.

  “What about you? I mean I know where you work, but do you love it?”

  “I own my own place and don’t answer to anyone. Works for me.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me.”

  Two round tables and an old picnic table filled the room. A pair of vending machines and an ancient fridge lined the back wall. She set his bag down and went to a small locker tucked behind the door. “Soda?”

  “Yeah, diet whatever.” She pulled out money, crossed to the machines and set two bottles of Diet Coke on the scarred table. “What doesn’t surprise you?”

  “You don’t seem like you’re a rules kinda guy.” She hooked her leg through the b
ench-style seat of the picnic table.

  He unloaded their food. “I tried the employee thing. I even apprenticed for five years at a studio, but Chuck wasn’t interested in doing anything but the tats in the books.” He peeled back the paper and, finding sauce, slid it her way. “None of his own art. I was getting more clientele than him by the end.” He shrugged. “It was easier to leave than ruin a friendship.”

  She unrolled her grinder carefully, her eyes closing as the scents of garlic and sweet marinara sauce floated up between them. “Jealousy has a nasty side effect.”

  He grunted. Both for her visceral reaction to the food and his past. A reputation was all an artist had in the tattoo business. He did the trade shows, even inked a few celebrities when he’d lived in Boston. But he liked having his own place. Close enough to go into the city for conferences but far away enough that he could take it easy and hone his craft. He’d built up a good name, but his space was small. Just him and Cesar.

  She tore off a quarter of the sandwich and lifted it to her mouth just as a chime came from her hip. “Dammit.” She put it down, licking the tips of her fingers. “Just five minutes, that’s all I ask.”

  “You’re allowed a break, Darcy.”

  “Yeah, tell that to Gary.”

  “I will.”

  She looked up, her deep green eyes wide with surprise. She glanced back down at her tablet and tapped something before tucking it back into the bag at her side.

  “Staying?”

  “He can handle it. We have things to discuss.”

  He tried to hide his smile.

  “No smirking. I did it for work.”

  “Of course.”

  She took a big bite and muffled what sounded like an ode to Lou before swallowing. “So, tell me what’s going on for the rest of the day. Miriam’s bugging me hourly for an update.”

  “I got what I needed from a few stores. Once I’m done with the gear and program the lights, we’ll be in business.”

  She pulled a little notebook out of her pocket, this time with a pen. “How do the music and the lights work?”

  “I can program the lights with most songs. It works with the beats. I hardwire it into the music that plays on the overhead and tell it only to recognize certain songs.”

  “Really?” She picked at a meatball and wrapped it in a string of cheese before popping it in her mouth.

  He grinned, rubbing at the corner of his mouth that mirrored where extra sauce settled on her.

  She blushed and picked up a wad of napkins.

  Too bad.

  He would have liked to brush it away for her.

  More dangerous ground.

  Her little tether to the store chimed four more times during their meal. Each time, the idiot Gary couldn’t make a decision without her. If Ben wasn’t mistaken, Gary was checking up on her. On the last ring she finally stood up. “Evidently a half hour is too much to ask for.”

  He tucked the remnants of his sandwich into the wrappers and collected hers. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “The world is obviously going to fall apart without you.”

  She sighed. “I do actually have two days off. Most of the time.”

  “Tell me you don’t come in on your days off.”

  “Sometimes it can’t be helped.”

  “Delegating is an art form. They need to learn about it.”

  “Yeah well, until that magical day happens I’m the It girl. Especially with Black Friday coming so fast.”

  “I’ll make sure the store is ready for that crazy holiday. I promise.”

  She stopped beside him and leaned down, brushing a kiss along his cheek. “You don’t even know what a lifesaver you are.”

  He turned his cheek until their mouths lined up. She sucked in a breath, her eyes such a deep green it didn’t seem natural. Everything inside him said take. The soft sweater that hugged her, the pale hair that kept sliding from its bindings, her lower lip that she couldn’t stop licking—all those textures lured. Add in the ocean-fresh scent of her and he couldn’t resist. He leaned in but she drew back, tucked her hands into her sleeves and hurried to the door. “I’ll just let Miriam know the plan.”

  Damn. He lifted a foot out, straddling the bench seat. Was she running because she wasn’t interested? Or because she was just as attracted as he was? “I’ll see you later.”

  “Right. Um, right. I’ll find you later.”

  Then she was gone.

  And he had work to do—a lot of it.

  Chapter Five

  Darcy rubbed the heels of her palms together for the eighth time. Her palms were so itchy she was pretty sure she was going to go insane. Okay, so what if it was only when she had to come up to the front end of the store? It didn’t mean anything.

  She passed the tree stand. Ben wasn’t there. Her heart rate stuttered into an easy rhythm with a side of disappointment. Ri-freaking-diculous. She needed to calm down and stop thinking about him. It was her imagination that he was going to kiss her in the break room. Garlic breath, exhaustion and this sudden surge of attraction were making her crazy.

  That’s all there was to it.

  Period.

  “Hey, Darcy.”

  She stopped. Now she was hearing things.

  “Down here. I’m hiding from Tiffany.”

  She wished she could hide from that particular cashier herself. She crouched down and saw Ben sitting cross-legged against the wall in the shadows of the tree. There was a small storage cubby hole there. He had a string of lights set on the half wall so he could see what he was doing. “What are you doing back there?”

  “I told you. Hiding.” He lifted a small tool that looked like a pen. “And soldering.” He waved her in. “She’ll see you and then she’ll know my spot.”

  She laughed. Ridiculous was the word of the day. She dropped to one knee. There was no way she was crawling under the tree in her wool pants.

  That half grin tipped up his mouth. “I won’t bite. C’mon.”

  “I have work.”

  “No, you’re off shift. You’re mine.”

  She swallowed. “Wh-what?” The way he’d said mine. Not right in any way.

  His grin spread into a smile. Just how flame red were her cheeks? “Your Miriam Blackstone came over. She told me that after three you were all mine for the day. She wants this tree beyond perfection.”

  Of course that’s what he meant. She’d gotten the same orders, but she assumed that just meant she would be required to be in the store. Not helping him. “You don’t really want my help, do you?”

  He crawled forward, caught her hands and dragged her across the slick floor until their knees touched. “I really do.”

  She ducked her head and pushed a branch away. Dust bunnies and pine needles scattered around her. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

  He patted the spot beside him. “The little throwback from Valley Girl is a little too much to take. If she asks me one more question I’m going to strangle her with the pink stripe in her hair.”

  Darcy giggled, stifling it as soon as she started, but it was too late.

  “What? Do I speak the truth or not?”

  The laugh broke free. “Yes. Gosh, yes.” She leaned against the wall. It was cozy and out of the way and so much cooler. A sweater had not been the way to go today. Of course if she’d known she’d be working a twenty-four-hour shift she would have dressed differently.

  PJ’s perhaps?

  What did it matter, she was a wreck already. She slid down the wall until her knees were higher than her eyes. “I’m just going to take a nap. Can you wake me when it’s over?”

  “If you sleep like that you’ll be in traction. I’m good at a back massage, but not that good.”

  “You gotta stop saying stuff like that,” she said on a groan. Then wanted to curl into a ball. Outside voice—that had definitely been her outside voice.

  “Why?”

  “Because.”
She struggled to sit up. “Because, heck. I don’t know why.”

  “Are you seeing someone?” His gaze dropped to her mouth then lifted to her eyes. “Not into guys?”

  She laughed. “I’m into guys.”

  “I’m too tall?”

  She laughed again. He was far too charming. “That’s just mean. Do you know how often I meet a guy that’s taller than me?”

  “Do you know how often I meet a woman I don’t have to crick my neck to kiss?”

  Her palms tingled again, right up to the tips of her fingers. “You want to kiss me?”

  He set the board and the soldering tool aside and spun around until he was facing her. His knee pressed into her thigh as he gripped his crisscrossed ankles. “Oh yeah.”

  “Now?”

  “Definitely now.”

  What if someone saw them? The tree wasn’t that big, was it? “I taste like garlic,” she blurted.

  He leaned closer. “I love garlic.”

  The pads of her fingertips flattened into the cool floor. She moved in until his scent wrapped around her. Spruce from spending the day with the tree and a lingering hint of cinnamon stuck to him. They lined up like puzzle pieces, shifting and turning until they fit. His hand moved beside hers on the floor, not quite touching. His nose bumped her cheek, then nuzzled against hers lightly. Soft as cashmere, his bottom lip brushed hers. Sweet and innocent, the kiss was everything he shouldn’t be.

  Ben was the last man she pictured herself kissing, let alone hiding behind a tree with. But he kept the kiss light in every way. The tip of his tongue flicked along her lower lip and his other hand came up to cup her cheek.

  His thumb coasted along the crest of her cheek as his fingers slid into her hair. She hitched in a shaky breath and opened for him. He sucked her tongue lightly before covering her mouth completely. All the while his fingertips slid through the strands of her hair along the side of her face and gathered them into his hand. He gently stroked her hair and continued the easy and thorough exploration of her mouth.

  Too overwhelmed to do anything but go along for the ride, she curled her forefinger over his on the floor. She rose onto her knees, bumping into his long legs. He tipped his head back to keep the kiss going and she opened her eyes. She pushed away his overlong bangs, coming up for air and a moment of sanity. His long neck was corded and so intrinsically male.