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  The band was good, really good. He leaned back in his chair, pretending not to notice when Kaley moved a little closer, but not close enough to touch. He glanced at her, but she seemed totally engrossed with the music—with the drummer in particular. He lowered his guard and relaxed.

  He’d gotten downright mellow, and then he spotted her at the door. Katarina. What made him look behind himself, anyway?

  Maybe she hadn’t seen him. He wanted to wave, but then he’d have to ask her to join them. She and Kaley would be like chimney soot and the white fur trim on Santa’s suit.

  Something about her posture changed. From the distance, he couldn’t see her expression but he knew her body language enough to know a glare accompanied that stance.

  Before he could make a decision on what he should do, she gave him a little wave, more like a mock salute. Then she turned and walked toward the exit.

  ****

  Merry freakin’ great. How in the North Pole had Hunter hooked up with Kaley?

  Dumb question. Kaley would be on a new man like snow on a Merryvale street. She wouldn’t let go until spring, either. Worse, she’d tell Hunter…

  Marley’s ghost. The things she’d tell Hunter.

  Katarina’s mouth grew dry and she experienced an odd weepy sensation. “Butch up,” she said aloud, getting a snowflake on her tongue in the process. Wasn’t like she had a thing for Hunter. Still, of all the women in Merryvale, did he have to hang out with Kaley?

  Chapter Eleven

  Winter Wonderland—Except for the Snowballs

  Katarina hadn’t mentioned seeing him at Jingle Bells, nor had she treated him in her typically snarky manner—not even when Hunter bellyached for a full ten minutes after she informed him she did not have a theme for her tree yet.

  “The creative process doesn’t adhere to a timeline,” she’d said, making it clear no further theme conversation would be forthcoming. After that, she’d again donned her armor of professionalism, with the minor exception being the short skirt that had him noticing her legs far too often. “But I’ll see what I can come up with by closing time.”

  Hell, he might have been one of her customers. And he didn’t like it. Not one little bit.

  Nor did he like the instant coffee he’d been forced to drink since he’d avoided the Brew Mistress. He didn’t know exactly why, but he’d rather not encounter Kaley today. Didn’t make sense because he’d had a great time with her the night before, especially when her friends finally joined them, Tripp among them. Only Kaley hadn’t been very nice to the soap star.

  He spent the afternoon on the website—Katrina had finished the design in a mere two days. Impressive, when Hunter didn’t want to be impressed. Too bad the work wasn’t more complicated. Katarina and her skirt proved too easy a distraction.

  He glanced at the clock. Four o’clock—almost closing time. “Still don’t have any ideas?” he asked, his voice seeming to boom in the too-quiet office.

  She shook her head, without so much as a glance at him.

  “Since you don’t have a theme yet,” he said, tired of the silence in Katarina’s office, “you know you have to work tomorrow.”

  She frowned at him. “The florist is open until noon. Since Leo’s visiting his grandmother, I have to cover the store.”

  He blinked, not sure he’d heard correctly. “Noon? You close that early? On a Saturday?”

  She gave him the Katarina stink-eye, the first time in two days she’d shown a chink in her professional armor. “That can’t be a surprise for a genius like you. The hours are posted on the door. You know, that door you walked through this morning. And yesterday. And the day before.”

  He watched her try to hide her smile. Katarina succeeded, but he’d noticed. For some reason, that made his spirts rise.

  “What kind of business closes early on the busiest shopping day of the week?” he countered, hoping for a total shedding of her professionalism. He wanted the snarky, adversarial Katrina back. Only to counteract his boredom, of course.

  “The Merryvale kind. In case you didn’t notice, we place a lot of importance on living in our little holiday-loving town.”

  He’d noticed all right. Apparently nothing but the touristy places—restaurants, bars, holiday-related retailers, and the town hall—would be open on Saturday afternoon or Sunday. Hell, even the grocery store hours were a throwback to the 1960s. Just as well, he supposed.

  At least he’d have the office to himself. If he could finish the website, he’d have one thing off his list and be closer to getting back home. “You don’t mind if I work in here tomorrow, do you?”

  She blinked. “I guess not, but I’d planned to start your tour as soon as the store closes.”

  “Tour?” His turn to blink. Then he remembered. The town. “You’re still going to make me do that? After I did you a favor last night?”

  “I’m not going to make you do anything. And just what do you mean, you did me a favor?”

  He grinned, glad he finally had a chance to brag about doing her a good deed. “Did Tripp call yet?”

  She nodded, her expression filled with suspicion. “Yes. How did you know that?”

  He nodded, wanting to grin full-out but restraining his enthusiasm. “I told him I thought you were hot and was thinking about asking you out Saturday night.”

  “You did what?” Her suspicion had turned into anger, tempered with disbelief.

  “Don’t worry, Grinch-Face. You’re not stuck with me. I just figured if I acted interested, he’d react. He did ask you out, right?”

  Her face flushed red, whether from full-out annoyance or plain old embarrassment, he didn’t know. “So that’s why… You can’t seriously think he asked me only because he thought you would?”

  He shrugged. That was exactly what he thought, but he wasn’t stupid enough to say that. What did Katarina see in Tripp, anyway? “No, Kat. But I thought a little competition might nudge him in your direction quicker.

  She frowned. “I’d appreciate it if you stayed out of my personal business in the future. When did you talk to Tripp?”

  Not the question he expected. “At the Jingle Bells. Just after you left.”

  “Tripp was at Jingle Bells? I doubt he sat at your table.”

  Hunter guessed that was as close as she’d come to mentioning Kaley. “Most of the night. Why?”

  She blinked again. “He sat at a table with you and Kaley?”

  Hunter nodded. “Actually, he sat in the chair next to her. Why?”

  Katarina shook her head, her expression similar to a child who’d been told there’s no Santa. “But she hates… Never mind. I promised you a tour of Merryvale. If you want to go, be ready at noon. Otherwise, enjoy your non-life.”

  ****

  “Admit it, Montgomery. You’re having fun.”

  He smiled at Katarina, grudgingly acknowledging—to himself, anyway—she was right. He hadn’t had fun in…well, far too long. Not even at the Jingle Bells last night.

  He also admitted Katarina might be the reason for the revival of his holiday spirit. Hunter tried to reconcile the woman making funny footprints in the snow with the witchy Katarina he’d first met. He actually couldn’t even remember that Katarina.

  She certainly looked like an angel in her fur-lined hood, but there was something more. In addition to her sexy exterior, her very essence affected him, making it impossible not to enjoy the day. He needed to be careful. This Katrina could make a man do foolish things, think foolish thoughts. He definitely didn’t have time to play in that eggnog.

  Bring it back to earth. “I’d be having more fun,” he declared, “if you’d decide on a tree design already.” He tried to sound all sanctimonious, but his grin probably ruined the effect. He’d been grinning like a drunken elf all afternoon. That needed to stop. He couldn’t have Katarina, not now. And later would be too late. She needed a man devoted to her and he wasn’t that guy.

  She made a weird tsk’ing sound. “It’s always work with
you, isn’t it, Montgomery? Can’t you just take a break and enjoy all this beauty?”

  He stared at her face, her lovely skin slightly flushed from the cold. He could definitely enjoy her beauty. That was the problem.

  “You’re saying I need to stop and smell the roses?” he asked, knowing that was exactly what he wanted to do. Too bad the timing sucked. “Hey, maybe that could be your theme.”

  Katarina looked at him, for once without a quick comeback. She looked…he wasn’t sure, but he wanted her smiling again.

  “Look, Katty. I was just joking. I promise, no more shop talk until after the tour.”

  She gave her head a little shake, still looking a tad despondent. “No, it’s okay. That idea just might work.”

  What the snow-devil was she talking about? “Come on, Katty. I said I was kidding.”

  She shook her head again. “That could actually win.” Clearly, her mind was elsewhere.

  “What could win?” Hunter repeated. “Stop and smell the roses? Don’t think so.”

  “Not that,” she said, finally smiling. “But I have the roses. We’ll add more flowers. ‘Christmas in the Florist Shop.’”

  “Uh-huh.” He had no idea how she got “Christmas in the Florist Shop” from his comment, but he was just glad they finally had a direction. The sooner he got away from Katarina, the better. Wouldn’t do to fall for the woman. Or fall harder. “Just tell me what to program.”

  Katarina did a little skippy step, and then twirled to face him. “Can you do other flowers—daises, mums, orchids, tulips—”

  “Hold on there, Rudolph. I don’t even know what those look like.”

  “Come on, I’ll show you.” She grabbed his hand and reversed directions. Just as abruptly, she turned again, causing him to bump into her. “After the tour. We only have one more stop.”

  She flashed the smile again, and he only begrudged Merryvale a little. He willingly followed her down the salted pathway.

  A few short minutes later, she declared, “Here it is.”

  Hunter stared at the rows of faux tin soldiers—each ten foot tall. He’d seen the plastic figures when he’d first come to town in his rental. The soldiers seemed a little cheesy at the time, but standing on the hill with the mountains as a backdrop, they looked oddly welcoming.

  A weird sensation swirled in his brain, distracting him. He looked beyond the plastic sentinels positioned to welcome folks to Merryvale and stared at Katarina. The woman was truly gorgeous. And clearly loved Merryvale. Maybe showing off the town brought out her beautiful side. Only he’d noticed subtle changes, even before they started the tour.

  “What?” she demanded, stooping a handful of snow from the ground.

  “What do you mean, what?” he’d countered.

  “You’re staring at me. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  Hell, had he been staring? Woman didn’t miss a thing. Hunter supposed she wasn’t completely different.

  Splat!

  His brain screamed at him for ignoring its earlier subconscious warning. Cold bits of frozen ice cooled his nose and blurred his vision. She’d slammed him with a snowball.

  “Why, you little…she-elf.”

  He hadn’t planned to do so, but somehow he was chasing after her, forming a snowball of his own and firing it with the same precision he’d hummed the ball to first base in high school. Only Katarina must have been on the dodgeball team, because she twisted to the right and the snowball missed.

  “Wow,” he whispered. He’d been certain that was a kill shot.

  As he blinked, another ball came toward him, whacking him on the chest. Then the war was on. They might have spent the entire afternoon acting like ten-year-olds, except Katarina ducked to avoid three frozen missiles he fired in rapid succession. She backed into one of the plastic soldiers. The thing came toppling down—pa rum pa pum pum.

  Hunter hesitated, his mind ahead of his limbs. Then he hurled his body forward, knocking Katarina beyond the range of the falling soldier. The Nutcracker wannabe missed him by a mere inch. The three of them lay prone on the snowy ground, him on top of her.

  She blinked, snowflakes in her eyelashes. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Hunter couldn’t move, just gazed at her Silent Night eyes, luminous as moonbeams. She didn’t seem to be able to move, either. They continued to stare, as a child might upon encountering Santa on Christmas Eve.

  The logical side of Hunter’s brain screamed: You’d better watch out.

  That side wasn’t in control. He leaned forward, thinking he had to kiss her or his motor skills would cease to function. Katarina didn’t turn away, just blinked her beautiful eyes again, causing the snowflakes to fall. Her expression softened, beckoning his he-man into in a kiss her frenzy.

  Hunter closed his eyes.

  Whack.

  What the… Son of an elf. She’d smashed a handful of snow in his face.

  Thank the Grinch someone had come to her senses.

  Hunter laughed, mostly to disguise his awkwardness, not pleased he’d lost control. He tugged at his jacket, glad the outer garment reached to mid-thigh. Wouldn’t do for Katarina to see exactly how out of control he’d been.

  Been. Emphasis on past tense. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Too much was at stake with HollyGrams for him to act like an adolescent boy—even over a woman as hot as Katarina. He had a goal and no time for playing spin the bottle.

  The thought made him oddly disheartened. Maybe after HollyGrams posted the first profit, he’d make time. After all, Katarina would be working with him now—full time, even if they were miles apart. Maybe he’d invite her to New York.

  Assuming she wasn’t with Tripp.

  Of course she’d be with Tripp. He needed to forget about later. The actor might not be an intellectual match for the snarky Katarina Snodgrass, but the man wasn’t an idiot. He’d realize he’d better snap Katarina up.

  The euphoria of the snowball fight drained out of Hunter. He’d lost his taste for the Merryvale tour.

  “What’s going on in that mega-brain of yours?” Katarina’s meaning took a few minutes to register.

  Hunter couldn’t say exactly what he’d been thinking. He wasn’t an idiot, either. “Excuse me. Did you just say I had a mega-brain?” he asked, stalling for time.

  She grinned, gathering another snowball. “A mega-brain just means you have a big head. Doesn’t mean anything’s going on in there.”

  Her gotcha made him feel considerably cheered. Then he eyed the icy sphere in her hand. “Don’t you dare,” he said. “I just saved your life.”

  “From a plastic figurine. Aren’t you the hero.” Her smile faded. “And stop changing the subject. What were you thinking before?” She tossed the snowball, landing the thing at his toes, making it clear that was exactly where she’d aimed.

  “I don’t know exactly how to say this,” he replied, still stalling.

  “Just say it, Montgomery.”

  “You’re different now.” And wasn’t that the truth. “Why aren’t you like this all the time? Tripp would fall in love with you in a reindeer heartbeat.”

  Bringing Tripp into the conversation had been smart. As much as he hated the idea, that would probably be for the best. Mentioning Tripp would also divert her attention away from the almost-kiss.

  “Wow. You just met me, and already you’re trying to change me.” Her smile negated any bite her words might have carried. “Only you’re right. I suppose I am different when I’m out of the office. I’ve been trying so hard to be nice, sometimes I forget to be myself.”

  He wanted to ask her why in the North Pole she thought she needed to change, only he had no right. Getting to know her better would likely make walking away harder.

  She sighed. “I do love showing off the town. It’s been good to me. People—not so much. Except Suzette. And Tripp.”

  That wasn’t exactly what he’d meant, but he could appreciate her difficulty with people all too well. He understood processors far better t
han his fellow man. Maybe that wasn’t completely true. He was starting to understand Katarina. Not enough that he wasn’t surprised to hear she had the same struggle in social situations he did. She seemed like a people-person.

  What he needed to understand—and remember—was that she was in love with Tripp. What a waste.

  Chapter Twelve

  All I Want for Christmas Is You—Or Maybe Not

  Katarina closed her eyes as Tripp leaned closer. The evening had certainly gone well, far better than she’d dreamed. So why couldn’t she find an ounce of holiday cheer? Maybe because she kept thinking Tripp wouldn’t have asked her out if Hunter hadn’t tricked him.

  Nonsense. Tripp cared about her—always had. Hunter might have accelerated the timing, but nothing more.

  She needed to focus on the kiss. Finally, after years and years—and one date instigated by Hunter—Tripp’s lips touched hers. She waited for the magic. For the sensation like snowflakes touching your tongue.

  The magic didn’t come.

  Tripp wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. Surely she’d feel the rapture now that he held her so tight.

  Nope.

  Maybe the problem was the taste of Moscato. She hated Moscato, even more that the cabernet sauvignon. That had to be the problem.

  Damned if she’d let wine ruin her magic moment, no matter how syrupy-sweet. She wrapped her arms around Tripp and poured all the merry-merry she had into the kiss. Still no sizzle. Just lips touching lips.

  Determined, Katarina rubbed her hands over Tripp’s shoulders. Hunter’s were wider, odd considering Tripp worked out and Hunter avoided the gym like a snowdrift.

  Why the hell was she thinking about Hunter? Probably because the jerk ruined everything when he insinuated Tripp only asked her out because he had competition.

  Forcing Hunter’s image out of her mind, she opened her mouth a bit, a symbolic welcome of sorts. Tripp continued to grind against her face with closed lips. Odd, in high school he’d been a good kisser.

  He pulled back, smiling a bit. “That was nice.”