Seven.
Joy
“This is the first ever Davis Sporting Goods,” Nick tells me as he parks outside in the snow-covered lot. The building is smaller than the grand, spacious stores I’ve been to, and it doesn’t quite match the fresh, clean-cut atmosphere of the brand now. There’s something…different about this store. It’s warmer, welcoming.
I climb out to head inside, huddling into my boss’ coat that smells like crisp winter air and warm cedar. I inhale deeply. No man’s coat has any business smelling this dang delicious.
Trudging through the snow, Nick walks beside me, trying to block the icy wind. He’s chivalrous, I’ll give him that.
He just wants you to ‘play along’ like a good little assistant . I frown at the thought .
He gave me the opportunity to say no twice now. His plan is…insane, honestly, but I understand why he’s doing it. I’d do the same, wouldn’t I? There are some things you just can’t let slide.
Like your brother ditching you for Christmas.
Or an estranged relative coming in and demanding their dues.
It’s off-putting, the idea of lying to his family. They’ve already welcomed me with such kind, open arms, and with his father’s health status… The least I can do is be here for him and his family. Even if that means pretending to be someone I’m not. And if we’re being truthful with ourselves, the thought of enjoying Christmas as a family—even if it’s not my own—is more than enough compensation.
A quaint bell above the door chimes as we walk inside. The interior matches the exterior: original and wholesome. “Welcome to Davis Sporting Goods,” an older gentleman announces as the door closes behind us with a bitter whistle from the wind.
Nick smiles at the sight of the man behind the register. “Hello, Jerry. How’s business?”
The man lifts his gaze and beams. “Nick!” he hoots, shuffling around the counter and engulfing him in a sure embrace. “What a pleasant surprise seeing you here. How’s the family?”
“Everyone’s well, Jer,” he replies. “And yours?”
“Good, good.” Jerry’s gaze slides to me. “And who might this pretty young lady be? What are you doing walking around with this overworked lug?” He chuckles .
Nick’s arm circles my waist as I extend a hand, adding, “I’m Joy. Nick’s fiancée.” The words taste funny on my tongue even as my chest heats and my stomach flip-flops.
My announced fiancé tugs me closer.
“My, my. Congratulations, you two.” He whistles. “Meredith is going to be scuffed she missed you both.”
“We’ll see you both on Tuesday, won’t we?” Nick asks.
“Of course.” Jerry nods. “We wouldn’t miss a traditional Davis Christmas Eve for the world,” he says, gesturing between us. “Now, what can I help you lovebirds find this evening? Ice skates for tomorrow, I assume?”
There’s ice skating?
“Not today,” Nick says. “We lost some of the missus’ luggage, so we need a pair of boots and a suitable coat for this weather we’re having.”
“Ah.” Jerry waves us to follow. “We don’t have much left in stock, but I’m sure you’ll find something. Doesn’t need to be pretty, right?” He laughs. “The snow just keeps coming, I’m telling you.” He leads us to the winter coats, pointing out which racks are on sale before making a joke they’ll be on the house when the front door chimes with another customer. “Holler if you kids need anything. Boots are along the far wall.”
A moment later, we’re alone for the third time in the last twenty-four hours—or has it been less than that? I don’t know. Time feels like an illusion at the current moment.
I snort to myself, flipping through the fluffy hoods .
“For someone who claims to not be good at lying, I’d say that went rather smoothly,” Nick says quietly, pushing his hands in his jeans’ pockets.
I give him a subtle side-eye. “Was that a test, honey ?”
He grins, shrugging. “If it was, you passed with flying sleigh bells.”
I laugh, plucking a long down coat from the rack for closer inspection. “So, should we do a little…preliminary prep for this week?”
“Like what?”
“Well, you don’t know much about me,” I say, shimmying off his jacket and handing it to him. “I mean, I’d like to think I know the basics about you.”
He folds it over his forearm, eyeing me. “Really now. And what would that be?”
I proceed to rattle off his entire work schedule, favorite breakfast, lunch, and dinner spots, workout routine, how he hates an under -toasted bagel, his birthday, that he’s thirty-five, his blood type, all the way down to his regular bathroom breaks—all of which causes his face to flame a cute shade of pink.
“Point taken,” he mutters.
I shrug, batting my lashes. “I know my boss.”
He crosses his arms, eyeing me as I try the coat on for size and promptly place it back for a different color. “It seems I called the right woman for the job then,” he says .
I’m not necessarily looking for his praise, but…it is nice to be acknowledged for being good at something. “I’m, um, glad you did,” I add, trying on the deep red version of the lengthy coat that falls below my knees. I check myself out in the mirror and do a turn to the left and right before glancing at Nick. “What do you think?”
He looks me over from head to toe. He takes one long stride toward me and reaches to tug the faux fur-lined hood up. The rough backs of his hands graze over my jaw and my body temperature rises ten degrees.
Could be the coat? Could be the man? We may never know.
The fuzzy, multi-brown shaded fur tickles my cheeks as I tilt my head to peer up at him. He’s gazing down at me with a crooked grin and a glint in his eye. “I think you look…” he hesitates, his grin faltering, “…warm.”
I push down the disappointed feeling that overcomes me at his choice of adjective.
This isn’t a whimsical Christmas love story, Joy, control yourself .
I decide on the coat and we head toward the boots. “So, what should I know about you, then?” he asks as I hunt for my size in a sea of boxes. “Say…things I wouldn’t know from your HR file.”
I spin on him. “You pulled my HR file? When?”
He makes a face that screams caught . “A few hours ago.”
Before he knew I’d say yes? “That was awfully presumptuous of you.”
“I was hopeful,” he says, adding with a smirk, “So, what’s on the cheat sheet for getting to know the future Mrs. Joy Davis? ”
He’s joking. He’s joking .
Damn him and that perfect cheeky grin .
I control my racing thoughts by considering what information could come up this week that may put us in a corner. I decide to tell him the equivalent of what I know about him: my favorite restaurants, how I take my tea since I don’t drink coffee, my top five reality TV shows, and a basic rundown of my daily routine outside of working for him. I opt not to go into detail about my depressing family dynamics.
“Oh, and I’m allergic to penicillin,” I tell him.
“Penicillin. Got it.” He nods.
We walk toward the front with my new boots and coat in hand. “Did you kids find everything you need?” Jerry asks when we reach the register.
“We did,” Nick replies as he removes the security tags from the items. I tug on my new gear when Nick grabs a rusty orange knit hat with a matching pompom on the top and hands it to me. “This too, Jer.”
I take my hair down and quickly pull the hat over my head. I’m warm from head to toe and I can’t help smiling at him. “Good call… babe .” I try out the pet name for fun, and to gauge his reaction.
The rugged, handsome grin he sends my way feels like a gift in itself.