Chapter Seven
W hen she came downstairs the next morning, she had a half hour before Reese was supposed to be over for breakfast. She made a pot of coffee then was rummaging around in the fridge trying to find something to feed him, when she heard a loud banging from the front of her condo. She rushed out to see what on earth was going on.
From her position on her covered porch, she saw a pair of Levi’s wrapped around powerful thighs and pulled taut against a perfect male ass. Walking to the rail, she leaned over and looked up.
Reese had already reattached her gutter and was currently working on hanging the last section of her lights. What in the world?
“Hey, Mr. Fix-It!”
He glanced down at her and winked, the mouthful of nails preventing him from speaking. A few whacks of the hammer later, he was moving down the shiny new-looking aluminum ladder and gathering up his tools.
“You’re all set. The gutter is good as new, but we’ll have to watch for leaks after the next rain, just in case.”
“Thank you for doing that, Reese. A repairman would have been expensive.”
“Think nothing of it. I’m rather good with my hands.” His grin told her he was referring to more than gutter repairs, and she smiled shyly remembering the night before. She had awoken that morning surprised to find not one blemish on her behind or the least bit of discomfort. She didn’t think that would have been the case if he’d used the spoon.
Clearing her throat, she decided it was safest to change the subject. “I see you changed your mind about the lights. How did you get the condo board’s approval so quickly?”
Folding the ladder, he propped it on one broad shoulder and grabbed his toolbox. “I didn’t.”
“What happened to following the rules? Won’t they have a fit? I really can’t afford another fine, Reese.”
“No worries, honey. As the current president, I made an executive decision. White icicle lights only. I’ll just put this stuff up and be back in a sec.”
Without waiting for a reply, he walked off, setting a brisk pace toward his garage as she stared after him. Gone was the gruff, grouch, ticket-writing neighbor and in his place, the sweet, charming Reese she was falling hard for. He smiled more readily and was definitely less intense. In fact, she could have sworn she heard him humming “Jingle Bells” albeit a little off key as he walked away. Maybe he wasn’t a Scrooge after all.
Laughing delightedly, she hurried inside to start breakfast; bacon and eggs and toast.
Merry had the table set and bread in the toaster when Reese returned, iPad in hand. After they ate, him wolfing down three fried eggs, six slices of bacon, two pieces of toast, and some berries she washed and capped when she was afraid she didn’t fix enough to fill him up, they put their heads together and scrolled through auto dealer inventories online.
Reese found several used cars all above her price range.
“Don’t worry. I’ll haggle ’em down. Another perk, I’m a good negotiator.”
She was grateful for his assistance. He knew to check engine specs, gas mileage, and safety features, along with a vehicle history. By 11 when it was time for her to leave for work, they had appts to test-drive a low-mileage Toyota Camry and a Honda civic.
“Both models are dependable, and I won’t have to worry about you breaking down on the side of the road like with your old heap.”
“Thank you for helping me and in advance for test-driving tomorrow. There are certain businesses that still, in 2023, talk down to women—car dealers, construction and home repairs, and bankers—they all seem to be cut from the same cloth.”
“There are just some things that men are better at.” He glanced at her sheepishly. “Makes me sound like a dick, huh?”
Merry burst out laughing. She had been thinking exactly that but wouldn’t have dared say it. “At least you can recognize your faults.” She saw him stifle a yawn. “You need to go to bed. You worked all night, fixed my gutter and lights then spent all morning searching for cars for me. You must be exhausted.”
He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him. “I’m heading that way after I get a kiss goodbye.”
Merry went up on her toes, only too happy to comply.
***
W ITH ONLY THREE WEEKENDS before Christmas, her shop was a madhouse all afternoon. After ringing up one of her high-end pre-lit trees and all the trimmings, the woman wanted to recreate the blue-and-silver tree she had on display exactly, Merry was hoping for a lull, just to take a deep breath when her phone rang for the millionth time.
“Everything Christmas, how many I help you?”
“Have dinner with me.”
“Reese!” She glanced at the clock. She’d left him only six hours ago. “Couldn’t you sleep?”
“If I get five hours while working nights, I’m happy. It’s just a good thing it’s only a week out of a six-week rotation, or I’d be a zombie.”
“That doesn’t sound safe to me.”
“I’m used to it and espresso helps. About dinner. Can you take a break?”
The store had cleared out mostly with the dinner hour. “I think so.”
“Great. I’ll be there in ten.”
It was more like fifteen when he strode through the door of her shop in uniform.
“Let me grab my purse from the back.” After giving a few last-minute instructions to Jerry, who had just finished loading the 8ft balsam with all the trimmings into the back of the customer’s SUV, she returned to Reese. “I’m ready.”
“And I’m impressed. I’ve never been in here before. It’s amazing.” He said this while staring up at the thirty-foot tree in the center of her two-story shop. It was covered with thousands of lights and ornaments, and around the bottom were stacks of colorfully wrapped gifts—for display only—and an electric train that chugged and whistled around the track that encircled the huge tree. There was a large staircase at the far end that led up to an open second story where decorated trees lined a railing decked with lights and garland.
“Pretty cool, huh? And I get to work here every day.” Her store was her pride and joy and she beamed at his approval.
“I feel like I’ve walked into Santa’s workshop at the North Pole.”
“Yeah, sometimes I say it looks like Christmas threw up in here.” She was busy watching a woman at a glass display counter looking around as if she needed some help. “Excuse me for a minute, but duty calls.”
While helping one shopper, she was interrupted several times by other customers or employees. She adeptly handled everything calmly and efficiently, multitasking.
Finally, she was able to break away and came back to him. “Sorry about that. I’ve got a great crew, but when I’m here, they like to defer to me. I’m trying to get them out of that habit.”
“I’m really proud of you. This seems like a huge enterprise and you handle it all by yourself like a pro.”
“Not at all like the woman you’ve been bailing out of one tough spot after another.”
“That isn’t what I was implying at all. But with all you’re juggling here, at this time of year, I can see where it would be easy to let things like auto maintenance slide. Fortunately, you have me to help pitch in, now.” He draped an arm around her and hugged her close, kissing her temple affectionately. “Ready to grab something to eat? I’m starved.”
“Didn’t we just eat breakfast?”
“Hours ago. It’s almost six o’clock,” he said as he opened the door and let her precede him.
“Time sure does fly when people are buying $300 trees one after another.”
“I imagine so, but my breakfast has worn off and I’m a growing boy.”
“Still?” She eyed his broad shoulders and six feet and then some frame. “Maybe you should cut back on the fertilizer.”
“Yep, that’s definitely sass, and here I am without a wooden spoon.”
When he opened his passenger door and she moved to slide in, he swatted her backside, playfully.
“I couldn’t help it, sir. You set me up for that one.”
“I did indeed, imp.” When he got in on his side, he reached over to squeeze her hand. “You don’t have to call me sir. Although I kind of like the sound of it. Very respectful.”
“Hmph! Force of habit, I guess. My parents taught me to use sir and ma’am when talking to my elders.”
Slapping a hand over his chest, he groaned. “Ouch! You really know how to hurt a man.” Abruptly, he turned serious and gave her a sidelong glance as he started the truck. “Does the age difference really bother you?”
“Not at all. Although you often talk like you’re ancient, I was just teasing, big guy.” Merry leaned over and squeezed his rock-hard forearm. “Men my age are immature idiots. I’m really not into video games, beer pong, or belching contests.”
He snickered at that. “Reserve judgement about maturity eliminating idiocy until you meet my friends. When they come over it’s the same thing, except it’s football instead of video games and beer without the pong.”
“And the belching contests?” She laughed when he shook his head in regret. “That settles it, then, when they come over, remind me to go shopping.”