12 Gifts for Christmas. Джулия Кеннер
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pulled into her mother’s driveway, glad to find Declan still hard at work across the street. She bounded out of her Jeep, ignoring the bags of decorations and supplies, and hurried over. She told herself it was to pitch her idea, not because she was becoming addicted to the zing of sexual excitement that he incited.
“Here to pay off your bet early?” Declan asked from his perch on a ladder. He’d finished the stage and was now adding touches of holiday glitz. It looked great. But hers was going to be better, she promised herself.
“I stopped by the town hall to enter the contest and got to visiting,” she responded. Mostly she’d been scoping out possible customers. Even though she’d rented her salon space, she wasn’t starting work until after the first of the year. But it never hurt to promote the business a little.
And, she admitted to herself, to see if people were still talking about her, Declan and her mother.
Which they were. She squared her shoulders, knowing she needed to use that as motivation to win this contest instead of pouting over the unfairness of it all.
“Get any good gossip?” Declan taunted good-naturedly.
She wasn’t about to tell him that they were still good fodder for the rumor mill. She wished people would move on. And they would, once Declan confessed.
“The guy who was supposed to work on the gazebo in the town square got hurt last week,” she said instead. “Now the council needs a carpenter. You interested?”
“No.”
“C’mon. You’d be great. They could really use help.” And if she saved the day by hauling Declan in, she’d be one step closer to regaining her golden-girl status with the town. That meant good cheer, friendly faces … and paying customers.
“Nah. They don’t need me,” he said, going back to screwing some doodad into another thingamabob.
Mari frowned. “Really, they do. And I’ll do my part. I’m not so great with a hammer, but you can teach me.”
“Let’s put it this way,” he countered, still playing with his screwdriver, “they might want help, but they won’t want mine.”
Mari huffed, sending a puff of chilled air around her head like smoke. She was fully aware that the town had treated him like crap. But if he’d just put in some time with them, everyone would see what a great guy he was and quit judging him by his past.
“How do you know that?” she asked in exasperation.
“If they wanted my skills, they’d ask me.”
His words were reasonable. His tone was mellow. So why did she think this was a huge deal for him?
“I’m asking you to help.”
“Not a good idea. Don’t you remember what happened the last time you ended up associated with me? If I recall, you are still trying to wash that stain away.”
Mari rolled her eyes.
“You should quit being so stubborn,” she warned. “Don’t forget, Santa keeps track of whether you’ve been naughty or nice.”
Declan’s laugh filled her with a lusty sort of joy. The kind that said he’d make her laugh just before he sent her screaming over that delicious edge of ecstasy.
“Darlin’, haven’t you heard? Naughty is nice.”
CHAPTER TEN
WITH a real smile on his face for the first time since he’d pulled into town, Declan backed his truck out of his father’s driveway, waving to the elderly neighbor, Mr. Roberts, as he went. The old guy gave him a suspicious look, but lifted his hand in return.
Was the town over his past indiscretions? Mari said they were—she was pushing him to donate an hour or two of swinging his hammer, and encouraged him to ask around about jobs and feel out the possibilities of sticking around. For a girl who was still running from rumors, she sure had a lot of faith in his ability to face them down.
Then again, maybe she just wanted to hang with him. He liked that idea. Especially since he wanted to spend a whole lot of time with her. The woman made him feel things … incredibly sexy, oddly sentimental and just plain good around her.
He drove into his uncle’s driveway and parked behind his ‘57 Chevy. He hopped out of his truck, excited to get started. And not just on the display.
Then he stopped so fast the coffee in his to-go cup splashed all over his fingers. He ignored the sting, staring in disbelief at the mess that’d been a music stage when he’d left the day before. Puddles of paint had congealed over the splintered wood littered across the lawn.
“I was just gonna call you,” Uncle Eric said as he came around the side of the house, his face set in grim anger. “Looks like someone got here before we did.”
Fury surged through Declan. His fist clenched on his toolbox as he battled the urge to send it flying into what was left of his display.
“Any idea who’d pull something like this?” Eric asked, adding his glare to the mess.
“Just one,” he muttered, his eyes cutting to the cozy little house across the street. Sometime since he’d gone home the evening before, Mari had strung lights around the house and decorated the huge pine in the yard.
She’d said she wanted to win the contest this year… .
Apparently she’d been quite the busy girl last night.
Hot-gluing wrapping paper to the giant empty boxes that’d go under her tree, Mari couldn’t get Declan’s words out of her head. She’d just bet naughty was nice. Especially the way he did it. He’d gotten her all hot and bothered with just a kiss. What could he do with a little naked action? She fanned herself.
She was in the middle of a heat flash when she heard someone stomp up the porch steps to where she was working. She glanced over, her smile sliding away when she noticed how angry Declan was.
“Hello?” she said.
“Want to explain something for me?”
Frowning now, she got to her feet. She had a feeling she’d want to be standing. Or ready to break into a run.
“Explain what?”
He didn’t say a word. He just pointed. Mari stepped over to the porch rail and squinted across the street. It took her a few seconds to realize what she was seeing.
His display was a wreck.
“You think I did that?” she asked in horror.
“Darlin’, you’re the only one with anything to gain.” Looming over her, he blocked the sunlight, his anger enveloping her like a shroud.
“Right,” she snapped, smacking her hands against his chest to push him away. She’d be damned if he’d try and pull that bad-boy intimidation crap on her. “Because nobody else competing in the holiday contest wants to win.”
He narrowed his eyes for a second, as if he were considering her words. Then he shook his head.
“Not as much as you do.”
“How did I get dibs on all that ambition?”
“You’re the one with the most to lose.”
Mari opened her mouth to blast him then closed it again.
“You think I’d go as far as sabotaging your work just to get your confession?”
“No.”
Her shoulders relaxed a little.
“I think you’d sabotage my work to get out of sleeping with me.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and stalked back across the street.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MARI