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“You’re not taking the hint,” she hissed. “I want you to distract that man, not take him to Grandma.”
“Why?”
“It’s Burton.” Krista obviously expected him to know who that was. He shrugged to convey that he didn’t. “Come on! Burton! The man she met online and told he could stop by the shop.”
Oh, yeah. Now Alex remembered. “So what’s the problem?”
“Charlie Crosby’s here,” Krista said. “I need to get Charlie out of the store before he sees Burton.”
Her logic still didn’t compute. “What’s the big deal if the two men run into each other?”
Krista settled her hands on her hips, in the place where the hem of the elf dress started to flare. She shook her head, and her long brown hair swung. “Burton could mess things up for Grandma with Charlie.”
“Or he could start a healthy competition,” Alex countered. “Maybe Grandma Novak even arranged to have both men here at the same time.”
“Charlie told me he came by to surprise her. Besides, Grandma hasn’t dated in twenty years! Believe me, the woman doesn’t know what she’s doing.” Krista narrowed her eyes. “Now are you going to help me or not?”
The fire in her expression warned Alex what she’d think of him if he refused. “Okay. I’ll distract Burton.”
“Thank you.” She smiled at him and bustled off, taking a circuitous path, probably so Burton wouldn’t gaze in the direction of the cashier’s station.
Alex adopted a helpful expression. He rejoined Burton, whose face was pinched underneath his wild mop of white hair.
“Don’t you dare try to show me any trees,” Burton said.
“Hey, I’m Santa Claus,” Alex tried reminding him. “I aim to please.”
Burton seemed to relax. “Between you and me, I met this Leona Novak on the internet. Didn’t realize how old she was ’til after I put on my reading glasses. By then, I’d already emailed her.”
“Excuse me?” Alex injected his tone with heavy disapproval.
Burton kept on talking. “Would’ve canceled but I figured why disappoint the old gal.”
“That old gal is younger than you,” Alex said. “What makes you think she won’t be disappointed in you?”
“It’s different for men,” Burton said. “Everybody knows we get better looking with age.”
Grandma Novak would see right through this guy, Alex thought. Krista was across the store, ushering Charlie Crosby toward the exit. Showing Burton the door would have been the better move.
“Go ahead and share that theory with Leona,” Alex suggested. “She’ll enjoy it.”
Burton perked up. “You think so?”
“Sure do,” Alex said. “She’s behind the cash register. You can’t miss her.”
“Got it.” Burton strutted off, a lamb to the slaughter.
Alex spotted Krista the instant she reentered the store. She looked well pleased with herself, her smile lighting up her eyes as she walked toward him. He was proud of himself for noticing her eyes, considering how much willpower it took not to let his gaze dip to the rest of her.
“Mission accomplished,” she said. “I think Charlie’s a keeper.”
“Burton’s not.” Alex gestured to the cashier’s desk in the distance where the elderly man was talking to Grandma Novak. “Your grandmother’s sure to send him packing any moment now.”
No sooner had Alex uttered the words than Grandma Novak shook a finger in Burton’s face. He reeled back, pivoted and walked quickly toward the exit with his head down.
“How did you know she was going to do that?” Krista asked.
“Lucky guess,” Alex said. “I’m gonna grab a quick lunch. There are sandwiches, chips and drinks in the back room. Want to join me?”
“I can’t,” she said. “I’m going to relieve my mom at the ball crawl. She needs the break more than I do.”
“Good luck convincing her of that,” Alex said.
“Oh, I’ll do it,” Krista vowed. “I can be very persuasive. It’s a Novak family trait.”
She sashayed away from him, her elf dress swishing as she walked. He watched her until she rounded an aisle and was out of sight, helpless to look away.
If she carried through on her threat to proposition him, he wasn’t entirely certain he’d be able to resist.
Especially if she added persuasion into the mix.
RAYNA NOVAK HURRIED through the parking lot to the flat gray building, her scarf shielding her face from the wind. She pushed through one of the double glass doors, expecting to be enveloped in warmth. Then she remembered.
An ice hockey rink was not the place to go in the winter if you wanted to be cozy. She unwrapped her scarf, slipped off her gloves and followed the sounds of men’s voices and blades sliding on ice.
Peering through the glass that partitioned off the rink to the scoreboard, she determined the ice hockey game was tied at two goals a piece in the third period.
A team of men in mismatched dark hockey sweaters, some with numbers affixed with masking tape, skated against players wearing white.
The swiftest of them wore the number seven because he claimed it was lucky. He stole the puck at the center line and streaked toward the goal with two much slower defenders in pursuit. He faked left, shot right and missed the goal entirely.
He swore, loud enough that Rayna heard from off the ice.
“Showing off for your girl doesn’t count unless you finish, Trey,” one of his teammates yelled.
Trey ignored him and narrowly lost out to an opposing player as they both chased down the puck.
Trey Farina’s girl.
Rayna supposed that was who she was. They’d been dating for about a year even though neither she nor Trey had ever discussed where their relationship was headed. They hadn’t agreed to be exclusive, either. They just were.
Rayna shivered. She hugged herself, not sure whether her tremble was from the cold or from what she had to tell Trey. Rayna had only found out herself that morning, a few minutes before her absentee sister woke up. The revelation had consumed Rayna so that she’d barely been able to perform her duties at the dentist’s office today.
In an alternate universe, she would have confided in Krista. An alternate universe where her sister was a friend rather than a stranger she hadn’t seen in eight years.
“Rayna, over here.” A petite woman in her twenties with a mass of curly red hair motioned to Rayna from mostly empty silver bleachers. Her name was Mimi. She moved over, patting the metal surface beside her.
“Trey’s having a good game,” Mimi told Rayna as she sat down. “He scored one of the goals and assisted on the other.”
“How about Bob?” Rayna asked, referring to the woman’s husband.
Mimi laughed. “Scoreless, the same as always. What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were too busy at the dentist’s office to come to the games.”
Rayna wouldn’t be here today, either, if she didn’t need to get Trey alone, a nearly impossible feat. He lived in a house with three other guys, one of whom was always around.
“The office closed early today,” Rayna said. “I stopped by to remind Trey he’s supposed to come Christmas caroling tonight with my family.”
“Smart girl,” Mimi said. “There’s already talk of going drinking after the game. You’ve got to keep your guy in check. That’s why I’m here.”
A tremendous shout erupted from the ice. Arms up-raised, Trey stood in front of the net and a sprawling goalie. The referee signaled a good goal with a tomahawk chop of his arm. Trey’s teammates on the ice mobbed him with hugs.
“Applaud,” Mimi told her. “That way Trey will think you saw him score the winning goal.”
Less than a minute remained in the game. The trailing team pulled its goalie to get an extra skater on the ice, but this was low-level ice hockey. The offensive players weren’t skilled enough to keep control of the puck. The buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game.
Trey let out a victory whoop. He skated past Rayna, stick raised in the air. She smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. While Trey went through the postgame handshake line, Rayna walked to the spot where the players came off the ice.
Trey finished shaking hands with the opposing team members first and skated full tilt toward her, executing a hockey stop before he reached the exit. Ice shards sprayed in the air.
“Woooo-hoooo!” he cried.
He stepped onto the threadbare carpet. Trey wasn’t the best-looking man Rayna had ever dated, but his looks were compelling. Thick brown hair, blue eyes that danced with excitement, well-shaped lips that were almost always smiling.
Rayna thought she’d fallen in love the first time she’d seen him, when he’d sauntered into the dentist’s office for a checkup.
“Did you see that goal?” Trey yelled.
Before she could answer, Trey bent down, swept her into his arms and kissed her. She had to stand on tiptoe because in his skates, he was about three inches taller than normal. His cool lips sent hot sensation sweeping through her—nothing new. She always reacted to him that way. She never wanted his kisses to stop, either, though they inevitably did.
“Mimi said you had two goals today,” Rayna said.
“It was a good day at the office!” Trey didn’t actually work at an office. He was twenty-two, a year older than Rayna but not as sure what to do with his life. He was currently working as a manager at a trendy clothing store and talking about going to bartending school. Sometimes when Alex and his father were particularly busy, Trey helped out at Costas Landscaping.
“I’ll shower and change clothes,” Trey said. “Wait for me, okay?”
“Sure.” Rayna moved toward the now-empty bleachers and took a seat. She wasn’t sure where Mimi was but Trey had stopped outside the locker room to drink at the water fountain.
Trey’s teammates skated off the ice, laughing and talking. None of them looked toward the bleachers, probably because they typically had so few fans in attendance.
“You’re really not coming with us, Bob?” the stockiest player asked Mimi’s husband.
“Can’t,” Bob said. “Mimi has plans.”
“Cancel ’em,” the stocky guy said. “A guy should do what a guy wants to do.”
“Unless he’s married. Then he’s screwed,” another of the players joked as they duck-walked on their ice skates to the locker room. Trey held the door open for them. “You’re coming with us, right, Trey?”
“Damn straight,” Trey answered.
“Your girlfriend won’t mind?”
“She’s cool,” Trey said as he disappeared inside the locker room. Rayna could just make out his next words. “We’re not serious or anything.”
“But—” Rayna started to protest but nobody could hear her. She probably wouldn’t have finished the sentence anyway. If Trey didn’t want to go caroling tonight, she wouldn’t force him.
Not after finding out he wasn’t serious about her.
Rayna got up and headed for the exit, vaguely crossing paths with Mimi. She called to her friend to let Trey know she’d had to leave, then rushed out of the arena, tears already streaming down her face.
She wouldn’t tell Trey she was pregnant, either.
CHAPTER FOUR
IN ALL HER YEARS OF caroling, Krista had never heard a more off-key rendition of “Silent Night.”
Not everybody in their group of eight was hitting sour notes. Krista, her mother and her grandmother could sing a little. Charlie Crosby had a pleasing baritone, Milo Costas was more or less on key and the neighbors who’d joined them were mainstays in the church choir.
That left Alex.
He was singing about sleeping in heavenly peace, confidently belting out the word peace so it sounded as though it had two syllables.
The elderly man and woman just inside the threshold had been smiling since they opened the door to a care basket and a choir. The man’s smile grew. He laughed. The woman poked him in the side with her elbow.
Mirth rose from Krista’s diaphragm, begging for release. She stopped singing and clamped her hand over her mouth. Her chest rose and fell in silent guffaws.
The song ended, and the couple applauded. The elderly man caught Krista’s eye and winked.
Alex was standing next to Krista at the rear of the group. He edged closer and whispered, “Are you and that man laughing at me?”
Krista removed her gloved hand from her mouth to issue a denial, leaving nothing to hold back the laughter. It burst forth, like a car horn. She swallowed it back, only half-successfully.
“No,” she said on a half giggle.
“Yes, you were.” Alex placed a hand over his heart. “I’m wounded.”
“You sounded like it when you were singing,” Krista quipped in a voice only loud enough for Alex to hear and broke into more laughter.
The flat line of Alex’s lips crinkled. Then he laughed, too.
“Shall we sing another carol?” Krista’s mother sent Krista and Alex a withering look. “Mr. and Mrs. Dombrowski enjoy the religious ones.”
Krista clamped her lips together. So did Alex. They exchanged a guilty look, and Krista felt about ten years old. She giggled again. Her mother looked more stern.
“Let’s do ‘Angels We Have Heard on High,’” Grandma Novak suggested.
Krista caught Alex’s eye and placed a shushing finger to her lips. “Not as loud this time. It’s okay to hear the angels, but not you,” she whispered.
“Smart aleck,” he said without heat.
