Chapter 5
MERRY
Merry wrapped her hands around the hot chocolate, soaking in its warmth as she sat at a corner table, still shivering from the cold.
Her hair dripped steadily on to her shoulders, but she was too tired to care.
Why did it always have to be hail and sleet in New York?
Where were the fairy-tale drifts of snow that fell on Central Park in the movies?
Fairy tales aren’t real , she told herself. And neither are handsome princes.
Or are they? She smiled into her cup. She’d met one earlier that evening and she was going to get to work with him too.
A stranger who could have stepped straight from the pages of a storybook.
Handsome, kind, actually listened when she spoke, hands that could do hard work.
She giggled into her drink at the heat creeping up her neck.
When she finally looked up, still smiling to herself, a jolt shot through her, just like someone had plucked a string inside her chest.
Christian was standing there like Prince Charming, tall and steady, watching her with eyes the exact rich, warm colour of her hot chocolate.
He lifted a hand in greeting, his mouth tipping into a small smile, and he made a questioning gesture towards her cup, miming a refill.
Merry shook her head quickly, hugging her drink closer.
She watched as he crossed to the counter to order his own drink, moving with an easy, unhurried confidence that made something inside her spin.
She wanted to bottle the moment and keep it for ever.
Because somehow, impossibly, his being here felt a little bit like magic.
Christian crossed the café towards her, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Merry’s gaze caught on it, finding the way his bottom lip was slightly fuller than the top, softer, completely distracting. She dragged her eyes back to his.
“You ordered a hot chocolate too?” Christian said as he reached her table. “You obviously have great taste.”
“I would have put you down as a scotch guy,” she said, hoping he didn’t hear the scratch in her voice.
“Sometimes,” he replied. “But on a day like today, and this close to Christmas, nothing beats a bit of liquid heaven.”
“Amen to that,” Merry said. She brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes, trying to ignore the drumming beat of her heart behind her ribs.
He nodded towards the empty chair across from her. “Mind if I join you while I wait?”
“Not at all,” she said, a little too quickly, and his smile deepened into two of the cutest dimples she’d ever laid eyes on.
“So, you come here a lot?” he asked, chuckling to himself at the awful chat-up line.
“Sometimes.” She smiled. “It’s close, and the staff are nice, and the hot chocolates are the nicest I’ve ever tasted.”
As if on cue the waitress returned, placing a steaming mug on the table in front of Christian.
“Here’s one for your man, too,” she said, flashing a smile at Merry.
“Oh, he’s not my—” Merry started, then she caught sight of Christian shrugging off his lumberjack coat and her insides turned to heat. Somehow, he looked even hotter in a sweater. Even the waitress had fallen silent at the way his biceps moved through the fabric.
Christian, oblivious to the effect he was having, took a long sip of his drink and sighed deeply, licking the cream from his top lip in a way that made Merry want to jump over the table and help him.
The waitress took her leave with a flustered shake of her hands and Merry took a sip of her drink to spare her some time.
“Oh, boy,” Christian said, as he licked the spoon from the mug clean. “I have missed these.”
“You’ve been away?” Merry squeaked.
“Yeah, for a while now,” he replied. “Nearly five years, to be exact. In Southeast Asia, mainly the Philippines.”
“Oh, wow,” said Merry. “That’s amazing. Don’t they have hot chocolate over there?”
“Not like this,” he replied, taking a sip. “You get some amazing coffee. I’ve practically survived on Kapeng Barako.”
Merry raised an eyebrow.
“It literally translates as ‘manly strong coffee’,” he said with a laugh.
“But hey, they let me drink it anyway. There’s salabat, too, which is crushed ginger and brown sugar in hot water.
Tastes like Lysol, if you ask me, but it’s great for a bad stomach.
” He rubbed his stomach, shaking his head.
“Which was every day for about a year, until I stopped eating the oxtail stew.”
Merry laughed, feeling herself relax a bit more. It had been a long time since a conversation had come this easily. Christian was bright and funny and quick to laugh at himself. Not to mention the kind of gorgeous that made it hard to think straight. Did he have no flaws?
“What were you doing over there?” she asked, just so that he wouldn’t think she was staring absently at him.
He opened his mouth to answer, then paused. “This and that,” he said, and the way he looked to the side, rather than meet her eye, set off an alarm bell. Had he been doing something bad out there? Maybe even something illegal?
That’s the flaw , she told herself. He’s been in prison, and now he’s on the run, hunted by crime lords from Asia.
Christian cleared his throat. “Mostly the same as here — kind of keeping stuff clean, building work, odds and ends, you know.”
“Like a caretaker?” she asked, genuinely curious and slightly relieved. “What took you over there in the first place?”
He took another sip of his drink, licking cream off his lip. Merry absentmindedly licked hers, too, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth, her heart fluttering up into her neck.
“I’m sorry,” she said, catching his eye and feeling him draw her in. “I ask too many questions.”
“No, not at all.” His gaze darkened. “It’s just been a while since I’ve sat down face to face with .
. . with anyone, really. It was a lonely life over there, nothing but work.
To be honest, I moved out so long ago I can barely remember.
I just wanted to get away, find a space to do my own thing without my family crowding around me and judging my every move. Does that make sense?”
Merry nodded, taking a beat before replying, the hot chocolate finally cool enough for her to take a sip. “It’s why I ended up in New York, all alone. I’m from Nebraska originally.”
“Lincoln?”
“Omaha,” she said. “My folks are still out there looking after my sister. We get on fine, but there just wasn’t enough there to keep me excited.
I moved here three years ago after I left university — the local university, I should add.
Now there’s loads to keep me entertained, but I can’t afford to do any of it. ”
“That’s New York for you,” he said. “How long have you been at Carroll’s?”
“Just a few months,” she replied. “I was looking for a change. I graduated in media from Nebraska — go Huskers! — and figured I’d get a job out East, but then nothing really happened and I ran out of cash working badly paid newspaper jobs, and here I am.
It’s an okay place to work, I guess. Most of the people are nice. ”
“Except for that woman,” Christian said, playing with his half-empty cup with hands that kept drawing Merry’s attention. “The dragon lady.”
Merry laughed. “Mrs Cradley, yeah.” She shook her head. “She has seriously got it in for me.”
“She’s just jealous,” said Christian.
“Oh, pffft.” Merry waved his words away, her heart beating faster.
“Oh, come on,” he said. “She’s seen how hot you look in a Santa hat. Not everyone could pull that off.”
Merry’s cheeks exploded, and so did Christian’s, turning a wicked shade of Christmas robin red. He twisted his fingers around his cup and Merry wished she could swap places with it.
“Uh . . .” His brows furrowed. “Sorry, that probably came out more intense than I meant it to.”
“It’s really okay,” she replied, croakily. “It’s been a long time since anybody called me hot. I didn’t dislike it, though.”
She really didn’t dislike it. And if Christian fancied telling her she was hot on repeat then it wasn’t something she would ever get tired of hearing.
He looked at her, studying her, and although his mouth opened again, showing off his perfectly imperfect front teeth, nothing came out.
Merry gave him a quick grin as the waitress appeared.
“Can I get you folks anything else?” she asked, winking at Merry. “Or are you both heading home?”
I wish , Merry almost said. She shook her head, and so did Christian, and the woman retreated with a knowing smile.
Merry reached for the last of her drink, the warmth of the cup radiating through her fingers.
The last thing she’d expected when she’d peeled her frozen backside from her window this morning, was to think about going home with someone tonight.
But the way Christian had landed in her lap three times in one day was addictive.
“So,” he said, “apart from Mrs Cradley, the staff are okay, yeah? What about the management, the ones right at the top?”
“At the top?” Merry asked, glad of the change of direction.
“There are only two people in head office. Lewis Carroll is . . . Well, he seems okay. He’s pretty much Santa Claus, right?
But he’s mostly in the office. Pops down to the shop floor to say hi regularly, though.
” She frowned. “Actually, I haven’t seen him at all recently, now that I think about it, which is unusual.
Most of the jobs he used to do are carried out by Margot Miller.
She’s the other person in the head office and she’s pretty much running the place now.
You’ll meet her. She’s nice, so long as you do what you’re told. ”
Christian nodded, his eyes clouding over. It took him a moment to look at her again.
“This is probably a weird question,” he asked. “But have you noticed anything odd about the store, anything out of place? Recently, this is.”
That was a weird question , Merry thought.
She shook her head. “Odd in what way?”
“Just somebody told me something was going wrong at Carroll’s,” he said, waving the question away. “Warned me about taking a job there in case the company suddenly went under. I just wondered if you’d noticed anything.”
“No,” she said, suddenly worried about her own job. “It’s been busy, really busy, like people queuing to get in the door busy. Everything seems okay. But I’ve only really known the Christmas rush, remember, fellow newbie.”
“Okay, good,” Christian said. “I’m glad.”
He took a deep sip of his hot chocolate, smiling at her over his cup.
It hit her low and deep, sending a pulse of heat straight to her core.
God, she wanted to take him home, but she knew herself too well.
A one-night stand with a new colleague, no matter how good his hands looked wrapped around his cup, was a disaster waiting to happen.
So she pushed back her chair, gave him a smile that she hoped didn’t look as hungry as it felt, and stood up.