Kiss Me At Christmas: Marry Me at Christmas. Сьюзен Мэллери
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She paused. “Oh, hello. You’re Jonny Blaze. Taryn Crawford. You met my husband earlier. Angel—with the bodyguard school.”
“As far as I know, everything is on track for the toy drive,” Madeline assured her.
Taryn, ever fashionable in a dark violet dress that matched her eyes, sighed. “We do a toy drive between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Last year I was smart enough to be on vacation. This year, I’m here and feeling the pressure.”
“What kind of toys are you looking for?” Jonny asked.
Both women stared at him.
“What kind do you have?” Taryn asked.
Madeline expected him to say something like he was happy to write a check. Instead, he hesitated.
“I have some carved wooden toys. They’re a little old-fashioned.” He shifted from foot to foot. “There’s a lot of extra time on a movie set and it helps to have a hobby. When I was filming Amish Revenge, we had a couple of Amish men as consultants. One of them taught me how to do wood carving. I do toys.”
Taryn’s gaze sharpened. “Like trains and little animals?”
“Something like that.”
“We’ll take them. Seriously. Kids love to use their imagination. Can I reach you through Madeline?”
He nodded.
“Great. I’ll be in touch.”
Curiouser and curiouser, Madeline thought as she introduced Jonny to more people. The man was nice and good-looking and he loved his sister and he carved wooden toys. Who could resist that? Even if there hadn’t been massive tingles during a simple and not even conscious handholding, she would have been swept away. A regular girl didn’t have a chance.
Two hours later, Jonny stood by the front door. “I had a great time. Thanks for inviting me today.”
“You’re welcome.” She wanted to say more, but couldn’t think of any words. Not when he was lowering his head in a very deliberate way.
Oh, God! He was going to kiss her. Right in her doorway, with her parents and older brother not ten feet away. Okay. She could do this. She could—
He brushed his mouth against her cheek. “I’ll see you soon.”
Disappointment chased away any tingles, leaving her grumpy. On the cheek? Like she was ten? What about a little lip action? Some tongue? She wanted tongue.
As she wasn’t going to get any, she closed the front door and walked into the kitchen to help with the rest of the cleanup. Her mother already had the dishwasher full again and was pouring in soap.
“That went well,” she said as she straightened. “I do enjoy seeing everyone.”
“It was great. I can’t believe how much everyone ate. They had to have been stuffed from their dinner, but still. It’s your amazing recipes, Mom. You do cookie magic.”
“You’re sweet. No magic. Just lots of sugar.” Her mother leaned against the counter. “Jonny was very nice. He fit in well.” Her gaze sharpened. “Any lightning strikes? You know how it is in our family. You’ll know when you’ve found the one by the lightning strikes.”
Madeline did know, and at nearly twenty-nine, she had never even felt the slightest of buzzes. It was kind of depressing. Not counting Jonny, of course. With him there were zips and zings and, yes, lightning.
“Mom, he’s great. But whatever I feel around him isn’t real. It’s star power. Something about having the biggest head in the village.”
Her mother frowned. “What?”
Madeline made a note to talk to Felicia and get clarification on the whole important-in-the-village theory. “Okay, it’s not that, but it’s because he’s famous. I feel like I know him, so when we’re together, I’m reacting to that. Not who he is as a person.”
“You’re judging him on what he does for a living,” Loretta pointed out. “How interesting. You wouldn’t do that if he didn’t have an impressive job.”
“This is different.”
“If you say so.” Her mother hugged her. “Happy Thanksgiving. You’re my favorite daughter. Have I mentioned that?”
Madeline laughed and hugged her back. “Once or twice, and I appreciate it every time.”
* * *
LATE FRIDAY MORNING Jonny was back in town. He’d spent a couple of hours on the internet and had some wedding ideas he wanted to discuss with Madeline. But first he wanted to see the town’s transformation from Thanksgiving to Christmas.
According to the festival schedule that had been part of his welcome packet, the town tree lighting was Saturday at six. As of the parade yesterday, Fool’s Gold had been turkey central. But by eleven on Friday morning, there wasn’t a gourd to be found.
Instead, he saw snowmen and elves and Santas filling store windows. Workers strung lights and the harvest flags were being replaced with celebrations of Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa. A truck carrying a huge Christmas tree rumbled down Frank Lane.
Since Ginger had graduated high school and headed to college, the holidays hadn’t been that big a deal for him. Now he found himself enjoying the anticipation of celebrating the season.
He walked into Brew-haha and waited in line. The cheerful store had already put up a small tree in the corner. There were three different nativities on the shelves and paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling.
When he reached the front of the line, the woman taking orders smiled at him.
“I heard you have toys for the toy drive,” she said. “That’s great. We’re hoping to fill two trucks this year.”
Word traveled fast, he thought. “The toys aren’t ready,” he said. “They need to be painted.”
“That’s okay. You have a couple of weeks. Or you can ask for help. We’re always happy to step in.”
“Thanks.” He placed his order, then went to wait.
He shouldn’t be surprised that someone who hadn’t been at the party last night already knew about his offer. He would guess the sharing had nothing to do with him and everything to do will filling two trucks with toys.
He’d made the right decision to move here, he thought. Maybe the town wasn’t what he was used to but he liked it. He felt comfortable. For a second he allowed himself to believe he could have it all. A wife and a few kids. A normal family. Not that it was really possible. He’d seen what the attention did to those outside of the business. How it ripped families apart. Why would he do that to someone he claimed to love?
But as he took his coffee and headed for Paper Moon, he savored the possibilities. The what-ifs. And unexpectedly, the woman he pictured wasn’t his usual faceless stand-in. It was a pretty blonde with an easy laugh. One who had bluntly told him that when it came to weddings, she had no idea what she was doing.
He found Madeline wielding an industrial-size clothing steamer. When she saw him, she turned off the machine and grinned.
“Thanks for rescuing me. Rosalind had a sudden rush of shoppers Wednesday afternoon. That generally ends with wrinkled samples. They have to be fluffed back to perfection for the next customer, which means steaming. On the bright side, I’m sure the warm, moist air is good for my skin.”
He liked the combination of practicality and optimism. She was, he had to admit, a temptation. Were they on a movie set, with a predetermined time limit and a clear understanding that this wasn’t going anywhere, he would be making his move. But they weren’t. And Madeline was a forever kind of woman. She deserved a man who understood that. A man who could believe in forever.
She led the way to her office. “What’s up?”
“I