the tree is crawlin’ with bugs. His mom got them at Dalton’s. Can we get some of those lights?”
Holly swallowed hard. “Bugs?”
“Oh, I think a bug tree would be perfect,” Alex said. “How does the song go? Twelve crickets chirping, eleven spiders crawling, ten worms a-wiggling.”
Holly glanced over at him and caught him staring at her, his eyes bright, his jaw twitching with humor. “I thought you didn’t want anything to do with my plans.” Their gazes locked for a moment and Holly felt her breath catch in her throat. Though at first his expression seemed benign, when she looked into his eyes she saw something there, intense, magnetic, almost predatory. She quickly looked away, hoping that he couldn’t see the flush heating her cheeks.
“Eric wants the bugs,” he said with a grin.
He really was a handsome man when he smiled. Strong and vital, and oh-so sexy. At times so serious and then downright silly. What woman in her right mind would choose to leave a man like Alex Marrin?
“I can work with bugs,” she murmured, outvoted two to one. “I’m flexible.” Though Holly preferred to do things her own way to insure that everything fit in with an overall theme, she’d done a few bizarre themes in the past. A trout fishing tree for a dyed-in-the-wool sportsman and a tree decorated with little plastic internal organs for a doctor’s home. She gnawed on her lower lip. Horses probably had bugs of some sort, horse cooties. She could work it in.
As she mulled over her plans, her gaze dropped to her leg, to the spot where it pressed against Alex’s thigh in the cramped confines of the truck. Even through her coat, she could feel his warmth, warmth that slowly seeped through her bloodstream until the chill had been banished from her fingers and toes. How easy it would be to reach over and run her palm along the faded fabric of his jeans, to feel the hard muscle and warm flesh beneath. To let it slide higher and higher until—
She gulped convulsively. “We’ll have to have two trees,” Holly said. “A very nice formal tree in the living room and a…a bug tree in the family room. And the library could use a tree, too.”
“Cool,” Eric said. “We never had three trees before! Santa’s gonna love our house.”
Holly turned to Alex but his gaze was fixed on the street ahead. The pretty homes had given way to businesses as they approached the town square. A few minutes later, the truck pulled up in front of Dalton’s Department Store. “I’ll pick you up in three hours,” Alex said. He reached behind Holly and gave Eric’s head a tousle. “Be good for Miss Bennett, Scout. Stay right with her and don’t wander off.”
He turned his attention to Holly and she wondered when he’d remove his arm from around her shoulders. He was so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her cold cheek. She let her head tip back slightly, amazed at how perfectly her nape felt in the crook of his arm. “Maybe you could buy some new clothes,” he suggested. “And a sturdy pair of boots while you’re at it.”
He pulled his arm out from around her shoulders. Holly forced a smile, then slid across the seat and hopped out of the truck right after Eric. Before she could say another word to Alex, Eric grabbed her hand and dragged her to the wide glass windows, pushing through the crowds that had gathered there.
“Look at the trains!” he cried, pressing his face against the glass like the rest of the kids lining the windows. He drew her to the next window. “And these bears play in a band! See how they move?”
As Eric pulled her to the next window, she glanced over her shoulder and found Alex watching them. He’d stepped out of the truck and now stood with his arms braced on the hood, his gaze following them both. From this distance, she couldn’t read his expression, only that he wasn’t smiling. For such a seemingly unaffected man, he was endlessly complicated, his mood shifting in the blink of an eye.
When she looked for him again a moment later, the truck was gone and Holly felt strangely disappointed. It had been so long since a man had looked at her with anything more than mild interest. And so long since she’d even bothered to care. With a soft laugh, she pulled Eric away from the windows. “Come on, we have shopping to do!”
They hurried through the revolving door, then stopped inside the grand entryway of Dalton’s. Holly felt as if she’d been instantly transported back in time. This was the way shopping used to be, with smiling salesclerks who called you by name and uniformed doormen who welcomed you with a nod. The terrazzo floors shone and the smell of lemon oil drifted off the rich mahogany paneling.
As they strolled past the perfume counter, she noticed the huge Christmas tree set in the center of the store. Slowly her eyes rose, higher and higher, up through a soaring atrium three stories high. Above her, shoppers rested along the railings, staring out at the twinkling lights and shiny ornaments. A tiny thrill raced through her and, for a moment, she felt like a young girl again, full of the excitement of the season.
“It’s magical,” Holly murmured. “And a real tree. I wonder how they got it in here?”
“They always have a big tree.” Eric pulled her along toward the escalator. “First, we have to go see Santa. Then we can look at the tree.”
“I thought you already talked to Santa,” Holly said, hurrying to match his pace.
“I have to thank him,” Eric said.
“For what?”
“For you!”
Holly’s heart warmed at his innocent compliment. She’d only been a Christmas angel for a few days, but she already knew it was the best job she’d ever had. Devoting herself to the happiness of a sweet boy like Eric Marrin could hardly be called work.
They stepped onto the old escalator and ascended to the second floor, then joined the long line of children waiting at the gate to a cute little gingerbread village. The place was lined with aisles of toys, but Eric didn’t even notice, his gaze fixed squarely on the entrance to Santa’s kingdom.
As they waited, Holly was reminded of her childhood, how resolute she’d been in her own belief in Santa, and how she had challenged anyone who told her differently. Here, with Eric’s hand clutching hers, she could almost believe again in the pure magic of Christmas, and the warmth and security of a family to share it with.
“Hey, kid! What are you doing back here?”
They both turned to see one of Santa’s elves approaching—Twinkie, by her name tag. Holly felt Eric’s hand squeeze hers a little tighter. “Hi, Twinkie! Look what I brought. It’s my Christmas angel.”
The elf stared down at Eric, her hands braced on her hips. “Your what?”
“My angel. Her name is Holly and Santa sent her to me. She’s going to make my Christmas perfect. I came back here to thank him.”
The elf’s gaze rose to Holly’s face and she stared at her shrewdly, her pretty features pensive, curious. A bit too curious for Holly’s liking. “Santa sent you?” she asked. “That’s not true, is it?”
Holly glanced over her shoulder, uneasy with the elf’s sudden interest in private matters. “I—I’m really not at liberty to say,” she replied. “Come on, Eric, we’ll come back a little later and thank Santa. We’ve got a lot of shopping to do.” She tugged on his hand and led him away.
“Wait,”
