Wicked Christmas Nights: It Happened One Christmas. Leslie Kelly
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middle of a sidewalk, earning glares from a dozen people who streamed past them.
She nodded. “I’m fine, really. Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather hold onto this for a while.”
She’d probably like to find a quiet place where she could open her gift, but that wasn’t going to happen here.
Taking her arm as they were nearly barreled into by a power broker yammering into his cell phone, he led her down Broadway. Manhattan at Christmastime was a world of mad colors, sounds, and crowds, and this area felt like the pulsing center of everything. It might not have all the high-end shop windows up on Park or Fifth, with their fancy displays that dripped jewels and overpriced designer clothes. But it had a million little electronics stores with huge Sale signs in their windows, kitschy tourist shops, street performers, barkers, camera crews and vendors selling everything from scarves to hot dogs.
It also had so much life. Walking one block up Broadway brought words from a half-dozen languages to his ears. While the city often got a bad rap for being unfriendly, Ross had never heard so many Merry Christmases. Even Lucy, who’d sworn she was a Scrooge about the holidays, seemed caught up in it.
“This is the worst place in the world to be today, you do realize that, right?” she said, laughing as they wove through a crowd of Japanese tourists loaded for bear with shopping bags.
They’d just headed down into a subway station, Ross having suddenly realized exactly where he wanted to go. “Nah. Maybe the second worst. Just wait till we get to our destination—that’s number one.”
“Uh-oh. Dare I ask?”
Grinning, he remained silent as they crammed into the subway car. Despite her pleas for clues, he didn’t say anything, not until they were actually across the street from the store he most wanted to visit. Then he pointed. “We’re here.”
Her jaw unhinged. “You’ve got to be kidding! You seriously want to go into the biggest toy store in the universe today?”
“Come on, it’ll be fun.”
She took a step back. “It’ll be insane. There will be a gazillion kids in there.”
“Nah. Just their frenzied parents.”
“Who are worse than the kids!”
“You’ll like this, I promise. Come on, Miss Cranky Ass.”
She gaped.
“Look, I need to get a present for my nephew. I know he’d love this walking, roaring dinosaur toy I’ve seen commercials for. My sister told me he’s spent the last month with his arms hidden inside his shirt, waving his little hands and roaring at all his preschool classmates.”
“Velociraptor?”
“Yup.”
“Okay, at least he’s got good taste in dinosaurs. They’re my favorite, too.”
“I always preferred the T-rex, myself.”
“Not bad,” she said with a shrug. “So I guess that means we’re a couple of carnivores.”
He nodded, liking the banter, especially liking that the bad mood her ex had caused appeared to have completely disappeared. “I guess so. Though, I don’t suspect it would take a whole pack of you to bring me to my knees.” No, he suspected Lucy would be quite capable of that all on her own.
He didn’t elaborate, letting her figure out what he meant. When she lowered her lashes and looked away, he figured she had.
What could he say? He was affected by her, had been at first sight. The feelings had grown every minute they’d spent together. Not that she was probably ready to hear that from a guy she’d met a few hours ago. Nor, honestly, was he ready to say it. Knowing she was amazing, fantastic—and that he wanted her, badly—was one thing. Admitting it this soon was another.
So he went back to safer ground. “Anyway, that store’s probably the only place I’m going to find the dino-toy I’m looking for today. It walks, it roars, he’ll love it!”
“Preschool-age appropriate?” she asked, sounding dubious.
“Hell, no.” He grinned. “But that’s for his parents to deal with. I’m just the cool uncle who buys it.”
Considering the present might be late, he wanted to make it a good one. No internet gift card could ever satisfy a four-year-old, and since Ross was the boy’s godfather, and his only uncle, he had to do right by him.
“So, what do you say?”
“I dunno…”
“We’re talking about going into FAO Schwarz, not Mount Doom and the fires of Mordor.”
She rolled her eyes. “At least there are no screaming little ones on Mount Doom, unless you count the Hobbits.”
He liked that she got the reference. He wasn’t a total geek but couldn’t deny being a LOTR fan. “None in there, either. They’re all home being extra-good, hoping Santa will notice.”
“How about I wait outside?” she offered, looking horrified by the idea of going in, but also a bit saddened by it.
Lucy was obviously serious about that not-liking-Christmas thing. Though, he wondered if it was the holiday she didn’t like, or the memories that were attached to it. Given the few things she’d said about her parents, and the happy childhood she’d had before she’d lost them, he suspected that might be it.
Well, bad memories never truly went away, but they could certainly be smacked into the background by good ones.
“Your call,” he replied, tsking. “But remember, you don’t have to shop. Don’t you think you’d have fun watching the crazed parents fighting over the last Suzy Pees Herself doll, or the My Kid Ain’t Gonna Be Gay Monster Truck playset?”
Lucy laughed out loud, as he’d hoped she would. “When you put it that way, how could I possibly refuse?”
“You can’t. Anyone with an ounce of schadenfreude in their soul—which I suspect you have, at least when it comes to Christmas and oddly-penised exes—would race me to the door.”
Mischief danced on her face and a dimple appeared in her cheek as she offered a self-deprecating grin. She didn’t deny it. That was something else he liked about her. Most other women he knew kept up that I-love-puppies-and-kitties-and-everyone front, at least at the beginning of a relationship. Lucy hadn’t bothered. Hell, she freely admitted she hated Christmas, and had been fantasizing about cutting off a guy’s dick when they’d met. Talk about not putting on some kind of nice-girl act. Was it any wonder he already liked her so much?
“Okay, Mount Doom, here we come,” she said, taking his hand.
It was cold out—very cold—yet neither of them wore gloves. His were tucked in his pocket, and he knew she had some, too, since she’d worn them when they’d first left the coffee shop. But neither of them had put them on once they’d left her ex’s place…once she’d taken his hand. Her fingers were icy cold, and he suspected his were too. But it was worth it.
Slowly making their way through the crowds outside, they ventured into the hell that was called a toy store the day before Christmas Eve. The moment they entered, they were assaulted with heat and noise and color. Any kid would have thought they’d entered wonderland—the whole place was set up to inspire thoughts of childhood fantasy. Well, if your fantasy included being pressed jaw-to-jaw with strangers. Oh, and getting into the spirit of the season by elbowing each other to get closer to the front of the long lines at the cashier stations.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she said when she realized it was worse than she’d predicted. Not a square foot of floor space seemed to be unoccupied. The merriment from outside hadn’t worked its way in here. These people were shopping like they were on a mission: Nobody gets between me and my Bratz dolls.
“I