Free Blame It on the Mistletoe by Nicole Michaels

seriously? You called an hour late.”
    “Okay, damn.” He winced and scratched at his jaw, which was still covered with hair.
    He looked like a surly Paul Bunyan, Brooke couldn’t help but think. A sexy one, darn him. “You’re right, I’m an asshole, and I regret it, okay?”
    Two women entered the shop, and Brooke went around the counter to greet them. If Alex was smart, he’d take this opportunity to scram. He didn’t. He lingered, walking slowly around the store; his eyes seemed to touch everything. And Brooke couldn’t help but notice that her two customers seemed as interested in him as they were the items for sale.
    She rolled her eyes. It was no surprise. Alex was hot. Very hot. Even with a face covered in scruff and what appeared to be bed head, he was still appealing. She wondered what he was dressed up for. His tall frame was clothed in khakis and a fitted button-up that left no doubt he was layered with muscle. Even under the civilized clothing there was something about him. Something that made a woman sit up and pay attention. Whatever that magical thing was, it made it impossible for Brooke to look away while he circled her shop like a predator.
    This time when he caught her watching him he gave her a wicked smile. Her breath caught and her body went warm. She abruptly turned away and asked the closest woman if she needed any help. Luckily she had some questions about the classes, which Brooke was happy to answer, and for a few moments she almost forgot Alex was in the store. Almost. After wrapping up the ladies’ purchases and encouraging them to grab a snack at the bakery down the street, she was left alone with him again.
    “What the hell does a person buy a rusty old bucket for?”
    She sighed and rolled her eyes. “You know what? I’m not answering that question. If you don’t get it, you’re in the wrong store.”
    “I want to get it, though. So tell me.”
    “Look under the tree.”
    He turned. Several old containers, including some rusty buckets, held various items. They looked pretty, rustic, fun. “If you have an eye for things, you can make anything look good. People like taking utilitarian objects, especially ones that are old and have an interesting patina, and incorporating them in their home. Sometimes they don’t know how to do it, so my displays help them visualize it.”
    “Patina, huh? Is that a fancy word for rust?”
    She glared at him.
    “Okay, okay. I get it, it makes sense. And I have to admit, it’s comfortable in here. Homey. It smells good, and the old things look nice.”
    “I like old things. New and shiny is okay I guess, but just because something is old or damaged doesn’t mean it can’t be beautiful or loved.”
    He stared at her through hooded lids for so long she felt like squirming. Or looking away. Instead she spoke. “Are you here for a reason?”
    Alex just continued to stare. “Go out with me tomorrow night. Dinner. We’ll leave Preston, go into the city.”
    “Do you really think I’m going to give you another chance?” She ignored the pounding in her chest and the voice in her head that was saying
yes, yes, yes
. To keep her shaky hands busy, she picked a few ornaments out of one of the rusty buckets and began to hang them on the tree. He needed to take the hint: she was a very busy girl.
    He didn’t. Instead he followed her lead and grabbed a few ornaments of his own before carefully hooking one onto a high branch.
    “Stop helping me. I’m very annoyed with you.”
    “What if I say please?” He was now holding an ornament she’d made. It was similar to her jewelry in that there was some old fabric held between glass, and soldered around the edges. This particular design featured a tiny print of mistletoe on a red gingham background. Red and green beads and a charm hung from a jump ring soldered onto the bottom. It was very cute if she did say so herself. He fingered the hand-stamped metal charm. It said “kiss me.”
    He grinned.