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CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER

2

“I

don’t hate people, Adam. I just don’t see the point of all this.” Dillon divested himself of the red apron covered in snowflakes and watched as Adam wrapped it around himself with the smooth movements of someone who had done it a thousand times.

“All this, as you so eloquently put it, is called Christmas, Dillon. A celebration, not a funeral. It won’t hurt you to say the word.” He shifted the first heavy insulated container into place on the counter and bent down for another one. “Or to look a little bit like you might be having fun.”

Dillon shook his head. “Hanging around a bunch of emotionally fraught people buying stuff they don’t want or need for family members they’d rather not spend time with is not my idea of fun.” As soon as he was done with his brother, he was going home, watching a movie where lots of things blow up, and passing out at the first possible opportunity.

“You’re an old, grumpy soul, Dillon Clarke. Where is the kid, anyways?”

“No idea. The little punk’s an hour late already, and he’s not responding to my texts. He’s seventeen, going on twelve.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Ah, the driving years. No energy for anything that doesn’t have four wheels or boobs. Good times. Bring him to the open house later tonight. Show him what he has to look forward to when he’s all grown up.”

Dillon laughed. “Yeah, right. You couldn’t pay me to come to that. If you’re all done restocking, I’m gonna take off.”

Adam sighed. “How many customers did you scare off with that party pooper mood of yours?”

“Hey, I’m a carpenter, not a barista. You get what you pay for.” Dillon made his way to the door. “And none. At least none that I know of.”

As he was about to step down from the food cart, he noticed a familiar face across the crowd. There was Super Santa Girl. The one who called him Mr. Grinch. “Okay, maybe one. If that chick comes back, you might want to hook her up. She made a donation earlier and let some old lady cut in front of her—and then I ran out of hot chocolate right as it was her turn.”

Adam spun his head in the direction Dillon pointed. “Which one? The hotties over there all look like they’re auditioning for roles as Santa’s sexy helpers.”

Sure enough, when Dillon looked again there were half a dozen women standing together in a group. “The shorter one—red jacket, short dark hair, really great ass.”

“Ah. Merry. Yeah, she’s a regular. The eggnog hot chocolate is her favourite.”

Adam filled a cup with hot chocolate, stuck it in a tray, and proceeded to fill up the remaining four spaces.

“Does she live here?”

“Yeah,” Adam said. “That’s one of the Tremayne girls. I went to school with them, but I think Merry’s a couple years younger than me. Their family has a huge reunion every Christmas. I think all the girls there are related in some way. Why? Interested? You’d have the new-guy-in-town advantage.”

Dillon snorted and shook his head. “Yeah, right. Ms. Christmas would be the perfect match for Mr. Grinch, as she called me.”

“Ouch. Maybe this will help you get back on her nice list.” Adam shoved the tray in Dillon’s hand and filled his other hand with a single cup. “Holly—the one with the blonde curls—likes cider better. I’m not sure about the rest, but you can’t go wrong with hot chocolate. You can deliver these to the ladies on your way out. And try to be polite, okay? It’s good for business when extremely attractive women hang around my restaurant.”

Dillon made his way carefully down the steps and through the crowds towards the cluster of Santa hats. He couldn’t wait to find his brother, get home, and cozy up in his place. Next year, if Braden wanted to meet up at the Christmas festival to bum money for presents, he’d tell him to get a job and save himself the hassle.

“He could easily win

the grinchiest vendor of the festival award. His heart is at least

five

sizes too small.” Merry shook her head. “I’m still bummed about missing out on the hot chocolate.”

“Maybe this will help?”

She knew that voice. Merry gasped and spun around—right into the full tray of hot chocolates. The arm of her jacket caught the tray on the way up, and she overcompensated by grabbing for it instinctively with her magic at the same time that Dillon reached for it. She also felt a push of power from behind her as at least one of her cousins tried to stop the catastrophe. Too many cooks in the kitchen—or too many witches in the spell—completely backfired.

The end result was both of them spluttering and covered in sticky, dripping hot chocolate while everyone else shifted away.

Damn, that’s hot.

Some of the liquid had splashed her cheek, and she used one mittened hand to wipe it off while the other hand struggled with her wet scarf. Merry looked up in shock as very male hands unbuttoned her jacket. She tried to back away. “What are you doing?”

“Adam just refilled the Thermoses. If it reaches your skin it’s going to burn you. Just stand still for a minute.”

He got another button undone before she snapped out of it and nodded at his chest. “Look after yourself. I can take my own clothes off just fine, thank you.”

Geez.

He’d been quick with those buttons.

Wonder how handy he’d be with the rest of my clothes?

Merry managed to undo the last button with slightly shaky hands and handed her coat to Ivy, who was hovering beside her. “Are you okay, Merry?”

“It’s all right. I’m wet and sticky, not burned.”

“Holly and Star are on a mission for napkins. They’ll be back any second.”

Merry turned her attention to the source of the problem. Without all these witnesses, she could have cleaned up the mess in seconds. But vanishing the splattered contents of multiple hot chocolates in this crowd would be tantamount to taking out a Main Street billboard that featured her in a black hat, riding a broom. While she wasn’t shy about her powers around her family, it wasn’t something she—or any of her cousins—wanted to be made public.

So when he grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the group, she took the opportunity to distract him so the girls could clean up the mess their own way.

“You don’t have

to buy me anything, Dillon. Seriously. I’m the one who knocked the tray out of your hand.”

“No, I wasn’t paying attention.” He wasn’t going to say it was because he’d been checking out her assets and trying not to mind that she was trashing him to her friends. He deserved what she said. He’d been in a bad mood all day and had taken it out on her.

He lost his train of thought when Merry looked up at him. He reached out to brush back a strand of damp hair that was sticking to her face and swallowed when her eyes went wide at his touch.

Cute. And he liked the way she’d bounced back after their soaking, more surprised than upset. The fire in her eyes had faded quickly once she realized no one was hurt.

He tried to imagine how his ex would have reacted. Hah. She’d have brought the house down and then threatened to sue. Good thing he didn’t have to worry about shit like that anymore.

And that was a perfect reminder why he was going to stay on his own. Especially through the holidays. He let his hand drop to his side. “Umm. Why don’t you pick out a sweater you like, and I’ll go see if I can find something un-Christmassy for me.”

He picked up a sweater with a giant reindeer covering the front and pressed the nose. The Christmas lights on the antlers lit up, and music started playing from... somewhere.

Seriously, Erica?

As the person who had built floor-to-ceiling custom shelving in Erica’s home workshop, he knew what she was capable of. Why she insisted on doing the ugly Christmas sweater thing every year he would never understand.

He glanced up to see if Merry was done getting ready, and got an eyeful of creamy skin. She’d chosen a longer sweater that could double as a dress, and when she wiggled out of her wet jeans, she created a little space between the curtains. He stepped forward, intending to fix the curtain for her, but found himself frozen in place, staring through the crack like a peeping Tom.

The red satin bra was a fun surprise. And she really did have a nice ass. Both in her jeans and out of them. She looked up just at that moment and met his eyes with a flash of heat before the curtain pulled closed.

Busted.

But he couldn’t quite bring himself to mind.

When she emerged from the change room in a sweater dress and the black knee-high boots she’d had on over her jeans, he decided that maybe there was something to these Christmas sweaters after all.

“What do you think?”

Dillon and the antlered beast on Merry’s chest exchanged wide, goofy grins.

“You look great.” And much to his surprise, he meant it. It suited her somehow—the way the shape of the sweater highlighted her curves made up for the garish colours and the ridiculous animal on the front. It seemed happy and full of fun, like she did.

Merry Christmoose, indeed.

Maybe hanging around the River Walk for a bit longer wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Merry pointed at the sweater in his hand. “Okay, Grinchy. You gonna try that on or just stand around all night scowling at it?”

Or maybe he should forget about his brother and run for his truck while he still could.

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