Chapter 5
Jewel
The bell over the counter chimes again, and there he is—flirty dragon guy. I have to fight the smile threatening to take over my face.
“Welcome back,” I say, keeping my tone light as I reached for the next roll of glossy wrapping paper. “Let me guess—another present for your future wife?”
He holds up a stunning handbag in a deep, rich emerald green. My heart skips a beat. That color. My favorite color. His color, now that I think about it. If I could afford it, I’d carry something exactly like it instead of my old, beat-up tote. It costs thousands, though.
“Yep.” His golden eyes twinkle as he sets the bag on the counter. “Plaid, please.”
I pull out the right size box and start wrapping, but I can’t help myself. “Are you taking applications?” I joke.
His lips curve into a slow smile, eyes locked on mine. “No.” He pauses, just long enough to make my pulse flutter. “I think found her already.”
Heat rises to my cheeks. He doesn’t mean me. He can’t mean me. I don’t even know his name. My hands, usually steady as I wrap package after package, fumble with the ribbon. The box slides a little too far, and I have to catch it before it hits the floor.
“Wow, congrats to both of you.” It takes all my concentration to keep my voice steady as my fingers resume their work on autopilot.
“She doesn’t know yet.” He winks.
He’s just flirting. He probably has the same thing going with the coffee shop barista and the fruit girl at the bodega. He can’t mean me.
Someone clears their throat, reminding me I have a line of people waiting behind him. I force myself to glance up, offering a quick smile to the next customer. “I’ll be right with you.”
I finish the dragon guy’s gift with more care than I probably should, smoothing the edges and trimming the ends of the ribbons into perfect points.
“Happy Holidays,” I say automatically, sliding the box across the counter toward him.
He doesn’t take it right away. Instead, he hovers. “When is your shift over?”
My brain screams not to tell him—it isn’t exactly wise to go around giving strangers my schedule. But I also want more time with him. Time where I can be myself and not just a Hoardstrom’s employee with a pre-written script.
“Nine,” I answer before I second-guess myself. It’s a long shift, and he might be gone by then anyway.
His smile deepens. “Good to know.” He picks up his gorgeously wrapped gift, giving me one last lingering glance before he walks away.
For the rest of my shift, I replay the conversation over and over in my mind, wondering if I imagined the spark in his eyes or the subtle, inviting tone in his voice. I tell myself not to be ridiculous. He’s not going to be there tonight. People don’t wait hours for someone they barely know.
But when I finally clock out, all wrapped up in my coat and scarf, I find him just outside the employee exit, leaning casually against the wall, steam rising from his nostrils into the frozen air.
A grin lights up his face when he sees me. “How was your day?”
“Good,” I say, meaning it. “Even better now that you’re here.”