Holiday for HIre(3)
She let out a frustrated sigh, and leaned back on the dock. It was more comfortable to recline after all those cakes anyway .
Her gaze turned again to the attractive man she’d spotted earlier, wondering briefly what it would be like to have a “compatibility test” with the likes of him. Or anyone, for that matter. She hadn’t been “compatibility tested” with a man in longer than she was willing to admit to the ladies who lunched .
Not that they would discuss such things anyways. It was a genteel bunch who met for tea sandwiches and chardonnay. Also most of them were card-carrying AARP members. Not that the surgeries allowed them to look anything but ageless and sort of weirdly shiny .
Jane was perfectly happy accepting their fates as her future. Just...she’d always assumed the most difficult part of her thirty-year plan would be deciding which snooty private school would serve her two point five children. She certainly never thought she’d be approaching thirty and still be a single woman .
She was getting riled up all over again, and her palms were starting to chafe against the boards. Now that the panacea of the water and the comfort from the mini-cakes was wearing off, the cold was setting in. Clambering to her feet, Jane sighed again. If she took off her heels, she could walk a while before having to catch a cab .
It was purely coincidental that the scruffy hottie had chosen the moment before to make his own departure from the dock. She followed behind him and was both stunned and impressed when he bent to drop some cash into the hand of a vagabond who then took off excitedly in the opposite direction, presumably to spend his newfound fortune .
As the Colin Farrell twin set off again, Jane noticed something sticking out of his pocket flutter to the ground. It was probably just a receipt or another equally unimportant paper, but litter was litter, so she wandered over to pick it up and inspect it. She was immediately glad she had when she realized the paper was a folded up check from a temporary employment agency. An uncashed check .
Her first thought was that her assumptions had been right when she’d pegged him as under-qualified for any sort of relationship—the alumni ladies would rip him apart. Her second thought was that as down-as-his-luck as he might be, he’d still given to someone less off than himself. Admirable .
Her third thought was to realize the poor fellow very likely couldn’t afford to lose this particular piece of paper. Sure, it could be reissued, but the hassle. What if he lived paycheck to paycheck? He might need that money now .
With that particular thought in mind, she jogged after him. “Excuse me?” she called as she neared him. “Sir? I think you dropped something !”
She was already breathless from the sprint, but there was still enough air remaining in her lungs to feel it rush out of her as he turned to face her. He was even more handsome close up—his lips full, his brows severe, his eyes so muddy and brown she could swim in them the same way she could swim in the chocolate fondue that Miriam Vanderholt featured at her annual Christmas party. Her inferior party .
Damn. She could stare at him for hours .
“Yes?” His voice was low with a delicious scratch that scraped at her usual decorum. Even despite the thickness of his South Boston dialect, the sound of it made her dizzy .
In fact, she’d very nearly forgotten why she’d chased him down .
She glanced down at the folded rectangular paper in her grip. “Oh. This. I think you dropped this,” she said, extending her hand in his direction. “It’s yours, isn’t it ?”
His brow furrowed momentarily, then cleared as he recognized the item in her grasp. “It is. Thank you. It must have fallen from my pocket .”
His hand brushed against hers as he took the paycheck from her—probably because she extended her index finger so that contact was practically inevitable—and she shivered .
“You’re welcome. It seemed important.” Was she grinning too widely? Suddenly she couldn’t remember the proper amount of upturn that was appropriate for a smile at a stranger .
“I woulda been upset if I’d lost it,” he said, shoving the check into an inside pocket of his coat this time. “Thanks again .”
She nodded, too distracted by his attractive appearance to remember how words worked. How would it feel to run her fingers across the scruff on his jaw? She had to concentrate to keep her hand from reaching up and finding out .
“‘Twas the Shop Before Christmas ” the man said, breaking her awkward staring. “One of my favorite spots .”
She looked down to the bag in her hands, the name of the store was written in bold letters on the white paper. He was probably just saying it was a favorite spot to be nice, but she responded eagerly. “Mine too .”
“What did you get, may I ask ?”
“It’s silly really.” But Jane never missed an opportunity to talk about Christmas décor. “It’s a garland with miniature nutcrackers and ballerinas amongst the greenery .”
“That doesn’t sound silly .”
“I ordered an outdoor version with white twinkling lights as well. It will look great with the wreath I bought last year, and the red of the nutcracker’s uniforms will coordinate with the skirt I have planned for the foyer tree.” Not that she knew how she’d put the garland up—she was more than a little fearful of ladders. She’d have to hire the teenager from down the block like she did last year. He’d been terribly disrespectful of her more precious decorations, but she’d lectured him afterward and she was sure he’d learned his lesson, she hoped .