AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Shelby isn’t hard to find. Her booth is one of the most extravagantly decorated spots in the area. An arch draped in tinsel and twinkling lights curves overhead, gilding her in a warm glow like she’s a fucking Christmas angel, while yards upon yards of red and green ribbon twine around table and chair legs, wire shelving… Basically, anything that can be bound to death in holiday decor.
But the evidence of her overexuberance for all things Christmas isn’t enough to deter me. Curiosity and lust ride me hard, despite our differing opinions on the holiday.
Approaching the booth, I lay a hand over my heart and ask, “Save a desperate man from his mom’s disappointment?”
CHAPTER THREE
SHELBY
The warm, masculine voice sends a shiver of awareness down my body. Whoa. That’s never happened before. Peering up from my squatted position on the floor, where I’m trying to get this stupid garland to lay right on a shelf, I see the owner of the magical voice is none other than Eli Cooper.
What’s he doing here?
And how come he never sounds like that in his movies?
“Excuse me?” I toss the uncooperative snowflake garland aside and struggle to my feet. Tight spaces and denim do not mix. Especially when you’re a woman with wide hips and a big ass like me. Not that I’m complaining, though I wish some of those extra curves ended up on my chest to make me a nice hourglass shape versus the bottom heavy pear I’m currently rocking.
“I need help picking a gift for my mom,” Eli says, his gray gaze tracing me from head to toe in obvious perusal. I resist the urge to fidget or cringe. Despite being happy in my own skin, there’s no way in hell I stack up against the Hollywood starlets he’s used to working with.
A charming smile plays about his lips, and if I hadn’t witnessed his temper tantrum earlier with the lights, I may be caught in his dangerously attractive web. However, his true colors showed this morning—the man scares volunteers and sneers at all things Christmas. Even if he is here to purportedly buy a gift for his mom.
I absolutely will not find that endearing.
It’s the bare minimum a son could do.
Picking up one of the snow globe ornaments, I force a professional demeanor. “This is our most popular item. Or you could go with—“
“What about that?” Eli points to something behind me.
“Oh, that’s for display. Holiday wreaths are special orders, so I don’t keep them in stock, but—“
“Let’s make this a special order then.”
He cuts me off again, and my jaw tightens, no doubt transforming my pleasant smile into a brittle grimace. Eli is reminiscent of every demanding customer I’ve had in the past, people who expected me to drop everything to fulfill their special needs.
“Sorry, but my schedule is booked already. I stopped accepting special wreath orders for Christmas mid-November. There are lots of other stores you can buy one from, or I can sell you the supplies to make it yourself. Your mom would probably prefer a homemade one, anyway.”
“You must not have been paying attention during the ornament contest because I suck at crafts.” A speculative look enters his eyes. “But you don’t. What if I make the wreath with your help? I’ll pay extra for your time and supplies. Share it on social media to boost your shop.”
Geez, his mom must be super picky about her gifts if Eli’s going through this much trouble for one measly wreath.
Before I can respond, he pulls out his phone and rapidly types out a message before an answering ding sounds. “We’re all set. The event coordinator said we can stay and use the table still set up on Stage B. A security guard will lock up after we leave.”
The Polar Express has nothing on Eli Cooper. He works fast. My eyes are probably huge saucers at this point as I struggle to catch up.
“I haven’t agreed to anything yet. This is a busy weekend for me and—“
“Do you already have plans tonight?” he asks. Those gray eyes dare me to lie as a teasing smirk forms on his utterly too attractive mouth. Framed by a five o-clock shadow, those lips conjure all sorts of fantasies—what they’d feel like against my own, how good the scrape of his beard would be along my inner thighs…
“Well, no… But…”
“Then it’s settled. We’ll order dinner, and you can show me how to make one of those,” he gestures to the giant wreath that started this entire mess, “for my mom. Please? It’s for a good cause and will be mutually beneficial. I promise.”
Men and their promises.
Crossing my arms over my chest, my gaze bounces between Eli and the wreath, contemplating my decision. Though there’s really no contest.
I shouldn’t watch so many Hallmark movies because against my better judgment, I agree with his proposition. In fiction, this would be the start of our charming love story. And my stupid subconscious loves the possibility.
