Gift Wrapped (2 page)

He didn’t even bother to look at the stuff. Just kept his gaze on her. “Do you like it?”

“I do. I have the same ones at home…slightly stretched out from my
curviness
.”

This time, he was smart enough not to laugh. Might as well have, though, given the smile that spread across his face. “I bet it looks fantastic on you.”

Uh-huh. Nice recovery.

“Can you pick a top to go with these?” he asked.

“Sure.” One full-price t-shirt coming right up. “Accessories to match?”

“Go for it.”

Yes, he was charming. Really good-looking too. But he was still getting a shopping bag full of add-ons for that “curvy” comment, and more so, for laughing about it.

Socks—check. A multi-pack, of course. Brinn paused with one hand on the hair accessories. “Does she have long hair?”

“Very.”

“Great.” Probably sleek and naturally blonde, unlike Brinn’s defiantly wavy, chemically highlighted version. She gave him a false smile and added the obligatory black hairband. Then a second one in white. And a pair of earrings for the finish, the cheesiest ones left in stock. “How about these?”

He studied the three-inch danglers hanging from her fingertips. “No idea. I’m a guy, remember?”

As if she’d forget that. “Does she wear this type?”

“I’ve never noticed. If you think they’re good, throw them in. I trust your judgment.”

Dammit. Caught by the conscience clause. Back to the rack they went, to be replaced by medium-sized, silver hoops with a filigree pattern.

He caught her hand as she added them to the lot. “Those I like.”

“Me too. I have the same pair.”

“Yeah?” His thumb swept across her fingers, inciting a riot of electricity throughout her body.

She swallowed and nodded. “Ready for the damage?”

“Hit me.” He let her hand slide free. Pressed his palms to the countertop and leaned in as close as the slab of heavily lacquered wood allowed.

She’d logged a lot of cash-register time in her years. Her current district manager called her “Fingers McIntyre” because of her speed and accuracy at the till. Except for now.

The weight of his gaze made her shaky, caused her fingers to bumble on the keys. A curse slipped out, under her breath, and he smiled again. Her cheeks burned like coals in a cozy Christmas fire, but she smiled back.

“Sorry about the language,” she said. “I’m not used to making mistakes.”

“Lucky you—I make them all the time.”

“Like forgetting to buy Alicia a gift until closing time on Christmas Eve?”

“I didn’t forget.”

“Just lost track of time for the past few weeks?” Ouch, that came out snotty. Hopefully he’d think she was tired and eager to get home, not pick up on the wholly unjustified jealousy working its way through her system. “Sorry. Long day. Week, month…” She centered her attention on the enter button, jabbing it harder than necessary. “One hundred, fifty-six dollars and ninety-seven cents.”

“Shit.” He pulled the wallet from his back pocket. “More than I planned on spending. Hope I have that much cash.”

“We take Interac and all the major credit cards.” She sighed when he stopped poking through the bills and nailed her with a look. “Yes, I fibbed. I haven’t closed off the debit machine yet. I’m severely behind schedule tonight.”

He extended a Visa card, not relinquishing it until she gave in and met his eyes. “I apologize for holding you up. I’m keeping you from someone on an important night, I realize, but I really do appreciate you doing this for me. And Alicia.”

“Nope, I’m flying solo in the sled this year.” Oversharing in progress…check.

“I assume that’s by choice. A beautiful woman with a generous spirit and sense of humor could have her pick of Santas.” The twinkle in his eyes matched the suggestive comment. Probably just the way he was with people. He couldn’t really be hitting on her—not while he was shopping for somebody else, and somebody significant, obviously.

The sound of technology doing its thing pulled her focus from his face. Paper scrolled from the machine, meaning her time was almost up. She slid the receipt across the counter with a pen and watched him sign with a dramatic scrawl. Strong hands to go with the ultra-masculine everything else. A girl couldn’t help but swoon a little.

“I hope Alicia realizes how lucky she is, having you as her Santa.” There, she’d done it. Flirted with him. On purpose this time, even if he
was
presently signing the bill for another woman’s gift.

A straight line replaced his smile. “I doubt she’ll see it that way.”

“Then she’s crazy.”

“No, she’s not.”

Whoever Alicia was, she’d stolen the amazing smile from his face, therefore, she was an idiot. He’d said he wasn’t shopping for a girlfriend, but that didn’t mean he didn’t wish otherwise. What kind of bitch must Alicia be, keeping a man like this on a string?

Brinn wanted to follow him home so she could give this Alicia person a slap. Having somebody toy with your heart sucked. Massively. Exhibit A in that category—Liam. The bastard. He never went out of his way for anybody. His own selfish desires always took priority.

Yet she’d been blind to it. Naively looked the other way because she wanted the relationship to last. When he’d suggested she request a transfer and move out here to be with him, she’d believed he’d changed, that he wanted the same thing.

The joke was still on her about that one. He’d proven his level of commitment when moving day had rolled around—by going to a ball game with a buddy rather than help her unload the van. The guy currently returning her pen wouldn’t do something like that. She felt it in her soul.

“I hope Alicia likes the outfit,” she said, sliding the bag across the counter. “But I put a gift receipt in there just in case. She has sixty days if she needs to exchange or return anything.”

“I’ll let her know.”

“Have a great holiday.” The words came out flatter than a week-old can of cola.

“Yeah, you too.” His voice gave hers a run for first place in the lack-of-enthusiasm department.

She turned the key in the register and started the end-of-day process, then followed him to the front of the store, where she rolled the door into place for the second time today. If the past twenty minutes had done one thing, it was convince her there were still quality men out there. As soon as head office finalized her transfer request and she settled in a different city, she’d start searching for one. Again. Next Christmas, maybe she’d have a Santa to call her own. For good.

Her favorite customer of
this
holiday season stopped before he got six feet away. He turned quickly, meeting her wistful gaze. Shit. Busted. Thank goodness she’d likely never see him again.

“Did you forget something?” she asked, doing her best to sound like a store manager, not president of the local lonely-hearts club.

“I know it’s Christmas Eve, but do you want to do something tonight?”

“What about Alicia? Don’t you have plans with her?”

“Yeah, but that’ll only take five minutes.”

“Ouch. Is improving your stamina on your list of New Year’s resolutions?”

His gut-deep laugh echoed through the empty mall corridor. Then, alpha as hell, he stalked back to the door. The metal separating them would probably bend if he touched it, the man was so damn hot.

“I don’t do resolutions, but if I did, improving my stamina wouldn’t need to be one of them.”

She believed him with every sexually charged cell in her body. She still wasn’t falling for another player’s games, regardless of his considerable charm. “Alicia might argue that claim, given the five-minutes thing.”

“Alicia’s my fourteen-year-old neighbor.”

“Oh. Sorry. I assumed…oh crap.”

He smiled again, this one complete with creases at the corners of his eyes and a twinkle in his hazel irises. “Don’t worry about it. I like your fiery comebacks.”

“You’d love me when I have PMS, I’m extra fiery then.” Yes, she’d just suggested he
love
her. And she’d mentioned her period. To a sexy stranger. Dear god. He should be running away in three, two—

“How much longer ’til you’re free of this cage?” he asked, curling his fingers around the metal rungs.

“Mall security will come along to kick me out at six o’clock.”

“And after that—any plans?”

“Fuzzy pajamas, canned soup and an animated snowman.”

“Any chance you’d be willing to make substitutions?”

Brinn resisted the urge to jump up and down while making excited, squealing-type noises. “There’s a possibility, yes. What did you have in mind?”

“A late dinner at my house. I’ll cook and clean up. You just sit there and give me something pretty to look at. After that, a non-animated Netflix movie of your choice.”

Oh wow. He was good. Too good to be true, probably. And hopefully not an ax murderer disguised as a handsome last-minute shopper. Well, she’d leave a note in her apartment just in case. So the cops knew where to find her sexy bald killer if she failed to show up for Christmas dinner tomorrow. Tonight, she was taking a leap of faith.

“What about my fuzzy pajamas? You don’t have any substitutions to suggest for those?”

His gaze slid down her body, nice and slow. When his eyes returned to her face, they’d deepened to a rich golden-brown. “Plenty of suggestions. But I’ll take you however you’re dressed.”

Or undressed, as she bet the case would be. She was one syllable away from agreeing to what could be the sexiest Christmas Eve of her life…with a total stranger. “I don’t even know your name.”

His eyebrows rose. “Aren’t you supposed to verify my signature against the name on my credit card, Manager Brinn?”

Fire raced to her cheeks. Shit. How many times was he going to catch her off her game?

He winked while tapping his watch. “It’s Davis. Davis Rourke. You’d better go finish up in there,” he nodded toward her store, “you’re running down the clock.”

Chapter Two

To hang around or head out—good question. He’d written his phone number on the credit card receipt. If she didn’t see it in her scramble to finish up, this opportunity might slip on by. Not a chance Davis was willing to take. Too much shit in the world fell into the can’t-be-controlled column. Getting to know the cute store manager wasn’t going to be one of those things.

So he sat. And waited. Far enough down the empty corridor not to creep her out. Close enough to keep an eye on the front of her store. If she came out looking for him, he’d step up. If it seemed as if she was making a break for it, he’d chalk it up to a worthy attempt and spend Christmas Eve alone. Same as always.

Brinn had disappeared from his view for fifteen minutes. Since returning to the front section of the store, she’d kept busy folding and tidying merchandise. Every time she leaned over, a section of curly, dirty-blonde hair that’d escaped her clip fell over her eye. She’d huff at it and tuck it behind her ear, just to have it fall again the next time she leaned over. Very cute.

She looked pretty with her hair up. Didn’t mean he couldn’t wait to see it down, loose and tumbling around her shoulders, where he could comb his fingers through it until she sighed in relaxation, or wrap it around his fist while he made her moan.

He shifted on the slatted metal bench, opening his legs wider to accommodate his growing situation. She’d be out in less than ten minutes—still plenty of time to things under control. If he stopped watching her. Yeah, as if that was going to happen.

Pretty face with expressive, blue eyes and a smile that fried every nerve ending in his body. A long, slender neck with wisps of hair curling at the nape, begging to be swept aside so he could lick his way up and down the creamy skin. And those legs…Jesus. The shape of her calves, the curve of her thighs where they disappeared under the short, tight skirt. Her legs were what’d caught his attention first, what he’d been staring at when she noticed him standing outside her store. He’d almost forgotten about buying a gift.

Time to think about something other than how good she’d smelled when he’d gotten close. Or the way her pupils had dilated and the pink that’d spread across her cheeks when she’d flirted with him, intentionally and otherwise.

Shit, more blood heading south. He cracked his neck side to side. Didn’t help. Even with half the blood in his body now residing in his cock, his brain still worked, and it wouldn’t stop tormenting him with scenarios. How her lips would part when he kissed her. How her skin would taste when he explored every inch.

If he didn’t get his mind out of the bedroom immediately, he’d be walking bowlegged when he escorted her from the mall.

She spent the remaining minutes buzzing around the store at a speed that would’ve given a cyclone a run for its money. She’d probably been on her feet all day—hell, for weeks on end, given the time of year—yet she worked her way through the store with more energy than most people had on a good day. Energy like that could certainly be put to more pleasurable use.

A security guard approached Brinn’s store at an agitated clip, his pasty face screwed into a scowl. The sight of Brinn leaning over a table of sweaters had him changing gears, though. He came to a full stop outside the roll-down door, cocked his head and zeroed in on Brinn’s ass. The fucker even grabbed his junk and did a couple of quick passes over top of his gray uniform pants.

Call him a hypocrite or whatever, Davis didn’t care. No cop-wannabe was going to sneak up on Brinn and objectify her that way. Not while he was around.

He was on his feet and practically on top of the idiot in about three seconds. “Hey.” He used his getting-shit-done voice to make his presence known to both the guard and Brinn. From her—a surprised smile. The dude, on the other hand, clenched his jaw. Even puffed his chest out. Bold move. Stupid, but bold.

Davis narrowed his eyes.
Bring it, jackoff.

“Mall’s closed. I’ll show you to the nearest exit.” The toy cop’s gaze slid back to Brinn, taking a long, lewd look before returning to Davis. “Then I’ll come back for her.”

Like hell. Not in this guy’s wildest dreams was that happening.