The 6'1" Grinch (8 page)

“It does to me.”

“Then I like it. I'd buy it myself if I could afford it, okay?”

“What was your favorite thing about the house?”

“The French doors leading from the master bedroom to the pool.”

“Umm… a romantic touch, I agree.”

Was he thinking the same thing she was? That it would be convenient for a late-night swim that would lead to skinny-dipping that would lead to—

“It's been a long day and neither of us had lunch. Why don't I take you out to dinner and then we'll go back to your place?”

It was her. She'd been thinking of seduction and he'd been thinking of food. “We can't go out to dinner tonight, because I've got plans.”

He was very quiet, then he sighed. “Oh, you've got a date, then.”

She nodded and pulled onto the service road to the highway. “Yes, with a four-year-old. Elena's spending the night. I'm going to have to swing by now and pick her up because Sarah's got a date.”

“So I'll take you both out to dinner. I'll even let Elena choose.”

“No, you won't, unless you'd actually enjoy going to Honey Bear's Pizza Cave to watch the dancing costumed bears.”

“I'm thinking letting her choose is not cool.”

Both had figured without the princess of whine. Elena had pestered them until they wound up at Honey Bear's. It worked out okay because they were hungry and the food was fast and tasty, if a tad juvenile. The pizzas were shaped in bear claws and beehives. They even had a dessert pizza, which made Noel look a little green when it passed by on its way to another table.

When they left, Elena shoved all her paper goodies into her teddy bear backpack. In the car on the ride back to Hollie's she was a chatterbox, happy at having gotten her way.

Hollie was going to be just as happy if she, too, got her way tonight and Noel made an offer on the house on Mistletoe Lane.

“Are we going to make a gingerbread house?” Elena, asked when they were back at Hollie's.

Hollie ruffled Elena's hair. “There's been a little change in plans, sugarpie. We're going to make snowflakes, instead, because Noel and I spent too much time looking at houses.”

“Snowflakes?”

“Yes, they're these pretty powdered-sugar, snowflake-shaped cookies. I've got a snowman tin we can put some in and you can give them to your mom for Christmas, okay?”

“Yeah.” Elena scampered off to put her teddy bear on the bed.

Noel took Hollie's hand, tugging playfully. “Hi, remember me. You were going to show me the house.”

“Right. But we have to be careful. I don't want Elena getting upset about me moving again. Why don't I let Elena show you the house?” she suggested just as the little girl came down the hall.

“Elena, would you give Noel a tour of the house while I get everything ready to make the snowflakes?”

“Sure,” Elena agreed, taking Noel's hand and leading him back to the room she'd just come from.

“This is my room when I stay over with Auntie Hollie.” Elena went to the bed, sat on it and bounced up and down. “I helped her paint it my favorite color. She said it's called straw color.”

Noel studied the pale yellow room. A full-length mirror leaned against one wall, and hats and purses and shoes with heels were scattered all around it.

“Those are Hollie's old things she lets me dress up in when I come over. Do you like my new dress?” Elena tucked her fingers beneath the red-and-white gingham pinafore she wore with white long underwear. On her feet were hiking boots that lace-edged socks peeked over.

“I like your dress. Are those your favorite books?” he asked, nodding to a stack beside the bed.

“Uh-huh, these two are my very favorites,” she explained, handing him
Gilly, the Seasick Fish
by Susann Batson and
Snickerdoodle Is Not a Cookie
by Bonnie Jeanne Perry. “Will you read them to me?”

“Why don't you show me the rest of the house and I'll read them to you later, after you've made the snow-flake cookies with Hollie?” He had to get this kid to sleep.

“Okay. Come on, I'll show you Hollie's bedroom.”

Good, Noel thought, relishing finally seeing Hollie's bedroom. Elena was a glitch in his plan for the evening, but the child had to go to sleep sometime. And then he'd have Auntie Hollie's undivided attention.

Elena tucked her hand in Noel's and tugged him along the hall until they reached Hollie's bedroom. “It's really pretty,” she declared.

The child was right. It was decorated in soft ice-cream shades. He chuckled when he saw the miniature Christmas tree with lights and tinsel on the night table by her bed.

Elena went over to it and plugged it in, her eyes lighting up. “Auntie Hollie has her very own bedroom tree. I'm going to have one, too, when I get big.”

“I bet you are,” Noel agreed.

There was a scurry on the roof and Elena's eyes got very big. “Do you think it's Santa's reindeer already?”

Noel laughed. “No, I don't think they make a practice run. Christmas Eve is pretty much it, as far as I know.”

“Oh.” She went to bounce on Hollie's bed, seeming to find it impossible to pass a bed without bouncing on it.

“Auntie Hollie's bed is the softest bed ever.”

It looked it, he thought. It was covered with a pale pink comforter, and at the head of the bed were mounds of plump white pillows with pastel embroidered borders. The old-fashioned bed sat high off the floor. Elena had climbed up a little set of stairs beside the bed to reach it.

Done bouncing, Elena climbed back down and went to the big pine dresser. “Auntie Hollie has lots of pretties. Want to see?” The little girl pulled open the drawer and displayed a jumble of pastel satins, silks and lace dainties. “She says I have to wait till I'm big to wear these.” The child pulled out some of the lingerie and dreamily laid her head against the soft materials.

Noel wanted to do the same thing.

But Hollie chased such thoughts from his mind when she called out, “It's not that big a house. Come on, you two. Time to make snowflakes.”

He
was making snowflakes? He'd rather make love. Had plans along that line by morning if Elena ever went to bed.

He was, Hollie informed him when he and Elena returned to the kitchen.

“We'll get these in the oven and then we'll write up an offer, if you've made up your mind,” she said, grating a lemon rind.

They spent the next hour making snowflakes, with Hollie frying the dough-covered iron in hot oil until the snowflakes were cooked, then Noel and Elena sprinkling the snowflakes with powdered sugar.

When they were finished, Noel and Elena were dusted with powdered sugar and looked like snowflakes themselves.

When at last the cookies had cooled it was time for Elena to go to bed. She cajoled Noel into reading her a story from one of her favorite books while Hollie cleaned up the mess.

Hollie was just hanging up a dish towel when Noel returned with the news that Elena was asleep. Finally they were alone.

“At least for now,” Hollie acknowledged. “So what have you decided? Are you ready to make an offer on the house on Mistletoe Lane?”

“You sure you won't sell me this one?” he asked, taking a seat at the counter, where Hollie had brought out the papers to draw up the offer. “And I'm not certain about the street name now…”

“I'm sure.”

“And you really liked the house we saw—you weren't just saying you liked it to make a sale?”

“I told you—I'd buy it myself. I don't know how to say I liked it any better than that. It's a great house at a fair price. If you want a house by Christmas, it's the one to buy.”

“Okay, let's make an offer,” he said. “I can even live with the street name.” He frowned.

Hollie was relieved, excited and sad all at once. Relieved that Noel had given up on buying her house. Excited about the commission the sale would bring her. Sad that she would no longer be seeing Noel every day. Because as much as he drove her crazy, she'd grown used to the look of him, the smell of him, his company.

And there was still the matter of that kiss.

He could have given her a peck on the cheek. He could have buzzed her lips briefly. He could even have refused.

But he hadn't. Instead he'd given her a real kiss. A very real, romantic kiss. The kind that led to… something. It hadn't been a perfunctory kiss between real estate agent and client, happily sealing a closed deal.

However, the kiss hadn't led to anything.

True, their relationship had grown more relaxed… less formal and more teasing… but it hadn't developed beyond that.

Now it was over as quickly as it had begun. She would show Noel's offer. The seller would haggle a little, maybe make one or two counteroffers before accepting Noel's price, and then Noel would be off to the islands for Christmas.

“How long do you think it's going to take to close the deal?” Noel asked, interrupting her thoughts as she filled out the offer. His romantic plans didn't fit her plan to close the deal. He was hot and she was all business.

“Why? Did you want to use the phone to call the airline and make your reservations?” He was really in a hurry to get away.

“There's that,” he agreed, disappointed at his thwarted plans for the evening.

“Go ahead and call,” she said, not looking at him. “With any luck, we can settle everything tomorrow. And if need be, you can finish up by phone from your island.”

Without much effort, he'd managed to ruin her hope of a very Merry Christmas.

This time her daydreams had been way too fanciful.

The ones she hadn't even admitted to herself.

Till now.

Meanwhile, back at the North Pole…

“H
OW COULD
C
LAUDIA GO
away and leave me nothing to eat but a freezer full of Lean Cuisines,” Santa muttered, pushing away his second empty container.

Santa hated how people who reformed their bad habits lost their senses of humor. Or was his workaholic schedule the reason Claudia didn't laugh anymore the way she used to?

He went back to the test in one of Claudia's glossy women's magazines he'd been checking for a hint to what spa she might be at. The test was to see if your marriage was in trouble.

He finished tallying his answers and found out what Claudia's absence had already told him.

He was going to have to make some changes.

A diamond tennis bracelet might be a good way to start. And an indoor tennis court.

Claudia would look sexy in one of those short white tennis skirts… if she came back.

December 23

“S
O HOW WAS
your date with the fireman last night?” Hollie asked, sitting on Sarah's striped sofa with her stocking feet up on the oak coffee table.

“He's coming over tomorrow night to celebrate Christmas Eve with us. Why don't you bring Noel?” Sarah hinted.

“Because Noel will be long gone.”

“You didn't sell him your house, Hollie, did you?”

“No, but I finally found one he liked. We put in an offer early this morning and I'm waiting to hear,” she said, patting the beeper she was never without. “It's weird. One minute he's gung ho for my house—the next minute he's buying another one. Not that I'm not thrilled to get a big commission and to keep my house… but still…”

Sarah took a sip of the honey-and-lemon tea she'd made them. “Here's some dime-store analysis—for what it's worth. Have you ever considered the fact that Noel was attracted to your house because he's attracted to you? Maybe it was his way of getting you in his life—symbolically, that is.”

Hollie laughed nervously. “Thanks, Ms. Freud.
If
I believe your analysis, why has he decided to buy another house?”

Sarah shrugged. “Got me there. Maybe…” She paused and gave Hollie a mischievous look. “Because he wants a house big enough for the both of you.”

Hollie blushed. “Go on! I hardly know the man. He hardly knows me.”

“Yeah, right.” Sarah harrumphed. “You've spent day in and day out with him for over a week. What don't you know about each other? And besides… let me tell you, there's some heavy-duty intensity and spark-flying going on between the two of you. Why don't you see where it can go? Maybe it you ask real nice Noel will stay for Christmas.”

“Not a chance. He's a grinch, remember? And furthermore, he can't wait to get away to a hot Caribbean island.”

“Come on, Hollie. Give it a chance. And give Noel a chance. Surely a Christmas freak like you can convert him. Make him want to celebrate with us. I know Elena would like him to be there. She came home all chirpy about how Noel read her stories from the books you're constantly collecting for her.”

“Did he ever read her stories!” Hollie said, with a laugh. “She kept getting up when we thought she was asleep and begging Noel to read to her. We were both falling asleep by the time she did.”

“Aha, so there was
courting
going on. He lingered after you wrote up the offer. I'm sorry about Elena putting the damper on things for you two.” Sarah's laugh was husky and girlish. “Well, not that sorry. Otherwise Rick and I wouldn't have been necking—”

“Sarah! It was your second date!”

“Well, I had a child with me on the first one. I couldn't very well lock lips at the
Nutcracker.”

“That's not what I meant and you know it, you hussy. You're not supposed to neck until the third date.”

“Midnight, get down,” Sarah scolded as the little dog snitched a snowflake cookie from the open snowman tin on the coffee table. “Tell me where it says you're not supposed to neck until the third date, Hollie.”

“I know I heard it somewhere.” Hollie sniffed. “Besides, Noel wasn't courting me. He was just lonely and didn't want to go back to his room. I think he gets a charge out of Elena's antics. He certainly did try to get her to sleep.”

“I'll bet,” Sarah said beneath her breath. “Well, I think you should at least ask him if he'll come Christmas Eve. Maybe if he has somewhere to go, he won't leave St. Louis at all.”

Hollie folded up her list of things to do and put on her shoes to head out and finish her last-minute errands. “Think about it, Sarah. A sunny beach, warm sand, ocean breezes…he's not staying. And neither am I. As much as I'd like to laze away the day with you, I've places to go, crowds to shoulder through. Want me to pick up anything for you now that I'm finally officially on vacation and don't have to show Noel any more houses?”

“I'm all set. All the catering is done for now, and by the way, the Witmers were very complimentary about the dinner, thanks.”

As Hollie stood to leave, her beeper went off.

“So much for the best-laid plans. It's the offer. Can I use your phone?”

“Like you have to ask. Go, girl.”

S
ARAH RANG
the doorbell on the Victorian gingerbread house. She felt Hollie could use all the help she could get, so she'd decided to pay Hollie's visionary a little visit as soon as Hollie left and while Miss Nosy Elena was still playing at a neighborhood chum's.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now she felt a little foolish.

The woman who answered the door banished her reservations. Ms. Claudia was completely charming as she ushered Sarah into the living room, urging her to be seated near the fireplace.

“What is it you'd like to know?” Ms. Claudia asked, taking Sarah's hand. “Do you want to find out how your catering business is going to go, or if that sweet little Elena is going to have brothers and sisters?”

“Well, I ah—” Sarah supposed she shouldn't be surprised Ms. Claudia knew so much… she was a psychic.

“Oh, you want to find out about that fireman of yours, I bet, from the way you're blushing.”

“He's not mine. I mean—”

“Oh, he's yours for the taking, honey.” Ms. Claudia patted Sarah's hand.

“Really?”

Ms. Claudia nodded. “You do like him, don't you?”

“Yes, but he's a little…”

“You need someone younger to keep up with you and Elena. Besides, with all his brothers and sisters, he's a very mature young man.”

“He does seem to be. But that's not really why I stopped by. I wanted to ask you about my friend Hollie. Hollie Winslow. She came to see you and you told her Santa was going to bring her a six-foot-one-inch beau for Christmas.”

“I know she doesn't believe it, does she?”

“I believe it. I think she's already met him, but she's too stubborn to act.”

Ms. Claudia leaned forward and smiled. “They're both too stubborn.”

“Then how—”

“I know you want to help your friend, Sarah,” Ms. Claudia interrupted. “But they have to work it out for themselves. Hollie will have to come to understand that Noel needs what she has to offer.”

“There's nothing I can do?” Sarah asked, wanting to bring her friend the happiness she deserved.

“They'll work it out,” Ms. Claudia assured her.

Sarah smiled. “In that case, how
is
my catering business going to do?”

“I think if your fireman has his way, you're going to be catering to him and…”

“More children!”

“If you want them.”

“Elena will be thrilled. She's been pestering me for a little sister. Oh, by the way, you wouldn't know where I could get a Barbie in a pink dress, would you?”

“It's on its way.”

“You mean Santa is bringing it?”

“With a little help from a courier.”

Sarah looked down at her watch. “Oops, I've got to run. Elena will wonder what's happened to me.”

“Merry Christmas,” Ms. Claudia said, walking Sarah to the door. She smiled, knowing that Sarah's unselfish act of adopting Elena was going to pay off in the dividend of twin boys. Elena had better enjoy being a spoiled princess while she could!

As Claudia went to the kitchen to warm up some soup, she wondered what Santa was doing.

Wondered if he missed her as much as she missed him.

“C
ONGRATULATIONS
, you've got yourself a house,” Hollie said, clinking her champagne glass with Noel's.

“And without any quibbling from the owners. They took my first offer.”

“You got lucky,” she said, pouring him some more champagne from the bottle he'd brought with him when he arrived at her house to celebrate closing the deal.

“You're pretty gussied up,” she commented, taking in his double-breasted suit and his silk tie. “You sure you didn't already start work? You haven't changed your mind about leaving town for Christmas, have you?” She tried to keep the note of hope from her voice.

“I bought a ticket for a flight that leaves tomorrow afternoon at two. I'm dressed up because I thought maybe we could go to dinner to celebrate. I've given you a pretty hard time and you deserve a good meal on me.”

“Dinner?”

He nodded. “Anywhere but Honey Bear's Pizza Cave.”

“I'll have to shower and change…” She knew most men hated to wait for women.

“Go ahead—we've got time. Just tell me where you want to eat and I'll call and make reservations while you get ready.”

Hollie took a sip of champagne, and felt giddy from the bubbly wine. It was the champagne, wasn't it, and not the man who looked as though he'd walked off the cover of
Gentlemen's Quarterly?
She remembered Sarah talking about an elegant restaurant in Clayton with a funny name. What was the name—Crazy something? “Crazy Fish,” she said. “I've been wanting to try it.”

“Crazy Fish, it is. Go ahead and get ready, then,” he said, draining his champagne flute and setting it on the counter.

“The phone book is in the bread drawer,” she informed him, heading off to her bedroom with a wave.

After he made the call and set the reservations for two, he settled on the sofa with a refilled flute of champagne to wait. He'd allotted an hour for her to get ready and a half hour for them to reach the restaurant.

Sitting on the sofa reminded him of the snowy day he'd fallen asleep there and the sexy dream he'd had of Hollie. It had been a very vivid dream, romantic and sensual, and he was getting hot. He set down the champagne flute and walked down the hall to where he'd heard the shower running in Hollie's bathroom.

Another image came to mind.

The dresser drawer Elena had coveted and opened, much like Pandora's box. It tempted him into the bedroom.

The shower was still running, steam drifting out into the bedroom. He caught the scent of Hollie's perfumed soap. It smelled like honeysuckle and musk.

A bold desire overtook him as judgment left him. He slid open the lingerie drawer and began having a look through it. Merely professional curiosity, he told himself. After all, he was in retail.

He picked up a bra in lavish Venetian lace with dainty rosette trim, then discarded it and its matching stretch-mesh pantie in favor of a white teddy detailed with lovely eyelet embroidery and scalloped edging. It was pure and provocative, like Hollie.

Boldly, he laid it on the bed, then went to her closet and sorted through it, stopping first at a lemon pleated crepe suit. Its sunny color pleased him, but it wasn't exactly what he had in mind. Searching further, he came up with the perfect candidate for dinner at Crazy Fish: a sleek little white spandex top with a ballet neck and a midthigh-length black ribbed knit skirt.

He laid those out alongside the teddy. He looked at the ensemble speculatively, then went back to the lingerie drawer for sheer nude panty hose.

The shower was still running, and the escaping steam lent a sultry atmosphere to the room and his clandestine behavior. He was taking a chance, risking blowing the evening.

Shoes! He'd almost forgotten. She had a thing for them, so choosing them would be a real treat. The top shelves of her closet were stacked high with shoe boxes. His task was made easy by her efficient system of taping a snapshot of each pair of shoes to the end of each box.

After a quick inventory, he settled on pretty black pumps with elasticized crisscross straps and about two-inch block heels.

He slipped the shoes from their box and hurried to the bed, where he placed them alongside his other selections for the evening.

His ears perked up at the sound of the shower being turned off and the shower door sliding open. She was getting out to towel off. He lingered a second to visualize her naked, with water droplets on her smooth skin and her curls damp against her neck.

And then he moved silently from the room to wait back in the living room.

How would she react when she saw the clothes laid out on her bed?

It was true he'd invaded her privacy. And what he'd done was very intimate.

Suggestive.

Possessive.

And maybe stupid.

But if she reacted the way he hoped, he'd be able to feast on the memory in the islands over Christmas. And just knowing he'd picked out every intimate detail of her clothing would excite him terribly as he sat across from her during dinner tonight.

He didn't know why he'd done it. He had certainly never done anything like it before. Never revealed himself so recklessly.

The wait seemed forever, although just seconds passed. Had she left the bathroom yet? Had she discovered the clothing?

When she did, what would she think?

What would she do?

It was so quiet he could hear the furnace kick on and the ping against the windows of a light sleet that had begun to fall.

He got up and began pacing absently, his nerves making him restless. There was a bowl of sugared fruit on the piano. He picked a grape and plopped it into his mouth before he knew what he was doing. The sweet-tart taste only heightened his senses.

Sitting down at the piano, he began doodling on the keys, picking out a favorite song by ear. He was no more than an adequate player, but the distraction relaxed him.

He didn't hear Hollie the first time she called his name. Or the next.

The third “Noel” caught his ear.

“Are you calling me?” he asked, leaving the piano and walking down the hall toward her bedroom, hoping like hell he wasn't hearing things. Afraid his overactive imagination had conjured the sound.

“Would you come in here, please?” Hollie said as Noel walked by a framed handprint of Elena's on the wall, next to a picture of her in a ballerina outfit. He passed Elena's “room,” where he'd read her bedtime stories until midnight while Hollie had painted the little girl's toenails cherry red, as promised. She spoiled the child rotten.