Page 3 of Never Sleigh Never

I roll my eyes while Mrs. Henderson chuckles, reaching to grasp Cara’s outstretched hand. “Always, dear. Though I suspect not quite as much as you.”

I clear my throat, catching sight of a splint on Cara’s wrist and pray Mrs. Henderson doesn’t ask about it. That would no doubt mean another ten minutes before I could get back to work. “I’ll just get those directions—”

“Actually,” Cara interjects, sidling up to the counter and shooting Mrs. Henderson a warm smile, “you wouldn’t mind if I spoke to Thomas here for just a teensy moment, would you? I have a small favor to ask him.”

Before I can protest, Mrs. Henderson sets down her items and takes a step back. “You two go right ahead, dear. I wanted to browse the paint samples while I was here, anyway. I’m thinking of repainting my front porch sleigh. You know the one I—”

“The one you fill with the gorgeous poinsettias? I sure do know what you’re talking about. It’s the talk of the town every December,” Cara gushes as my jaw clenches tighter than a screw stuck in a stripped thread.

I cross my arms as Mrs. Henderson wanders off. I’m still not one bit curious about whatfavorCara wants to ask of me. Because whatever it is, the answer’s no. Cara, catching mystance, takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders as if gearing up for battle.

The move lifts her breasts, stretching her green dress taut against the generous, perfectly shaped mounds. Not a lick of cleavage is visible, and there are no nips poking through as if waving a red flag, but the way her puppies are commanding my attention zips me back to when I was a horny teenager, not now, when I’m too old to fall for such a distraction. Even if it wasn’t intended to be one.

“I’m resurrecting the Main Street Holiday Festival,” Cara announces, her chin tilted up defiantly. “And I need your help.”

I blink, my gaze snapping back up to her face, certain I’ve misheard. “What?”

“I’m bringing back the festival,” she repeats, sliding one of the fliers in her arm across my counter and tapping it with a glittery white fingernail.

“Answer’s no.”

She barrels on as if I didn’t just tell her I’m out.

“It’s going to be magical. Twinkling lights, carolers, sweet treats, kids sitting on Santa’s lap, you know, just like it was when we were little.”

Weweren’t little together. Cara’s at least five years, if not more, younger than me.

“Not a chance,” I say flatly, pushing the flier back toward her without bothering to read it.

Her smile falters for barely a second, but before she can respond, Bobby, one of my regulars, approaches with a handful of coaxial cables and a blister pack of fuses. I turn to help him, grateful for the interruption.

But Cara isn’t deterred. She steps aside but continues her pitch as I ring up the electrician. “Oh, come on, Thomas. Don’t you think Magnolia Point would turn out for a holiday festival?”

When I don’t answer, she turns her megawatt smile on Bobby. “I’m sure you agree, don’t you, Bobby? That folks would love a chance to celebrate the Christmas season together?”

Bobby, clearly not expecting to be put on the spot by one of the most beautiful women in town while he’s grabbing some supplies at the hardware store, nods in agreement. His gaze drops to her chest, where it rests a beat too long. My nostrils flare until he coughs and glances away. “I’m sure they would.”

I roll my eyes. Of course, Bobby would agree to anything Cara asked when she’s batting those long thick eyelashes at him. Good thing I’m immune. “That’ll be $37.83.”

As Bobby taps his credit card, Cara turns her smug expression on me. “See, Thomas? Everyone loves the idea. And think of the kids. They’d love it!”

I still as I load Bobby’s items into a paper sack. She’s got a point. I’m sure the kids of Magnolia Point would love a festival. The old timers, too. My gaze drops to the plastic tub of lollipops I keep by the register for little ones who stop by with their parents. I’ll have to refill it soon. But helping would mean dealing with Cara, and she’s what some might callhigh maintenance.

I hand Bobby his purchase. “See you next time.”

As he leaves, Cara steps closer, her voice softening. “I know you’re not big on the holidays, Thomas. But this isn’t just about Christmas cheer. It’s about community. And you’re always there to pitch in when it comes to Magnolia Point. At least, I thought you were.”

Damn, she’s good, pulling the wholehelping out the communityangle. Because I am there to lend a hand when it comes to this small town that’s supported our family business for generations. I’m obliged to do what I can to give back, having learned that from my dad, who was always happy to donate time or supplies when a request came in. Especially for the MainStreet Holiday Festival, my mother’s favorite event of the entire year.

But running the store and doing handyman repairs around town keeps me more than busy. Plus, I get the sense Cara’s not asking because of the reasons she’s giving. Sure, she’s as much of the fabric of Main Street as the rest of us, but something tells me there’s more to the story I don’t know and I should steer clear.

“I barely have enough time to sleep these days, let alone date or help plan holiday festivals.”

Cara’s smile tightens almost imperceptibly before she smooths it over, but I’m too busy cringing inwardly at the reason I just gave.Why the hell did I bring up dating?Maybe because this gorgeous woman, standing only inches away, reminds me I haven’t had a date in more years than I care to admit.

Not that Cara would be interested in a guy like me even if she didn’t have a boyfriend. Nope, I’m the furthest thing from her type you can get. I mean, the suit she’s seeing now has slicked-back hair and looks as if he couldn’t change a tire to save his life. I’ve seen her climbing into his fancy BMW a handful of times over the past few months, her long legs on display. Hell, you couldn’t name two people in town more opposite than Cara and me.

I turn to face her, ready to shut this down once and for all. “Look, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, and I would help out if I could, but I can’t.”

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