Page 38 of Holiday Sparks

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Excitement pushed away any misgivings she had. She’d be running this store soon. She’d been preparing for years for this moment. And she had Ben to thank. She’d make sure she did so tonight.

Ben stalked to the front of the store. He was expecting her to be uptight—Darcy was uptight by nature. But he’d almost slipped and told her about John. He didn’t even know if it had been his brother who took out the Christmas display, but he had a bad feeling. And his brother wasn’t returning his texts.

And he didn’t know—not for sure—he just wanted to bring a little hope, a little laughter into her pretty Christmas-colored eyes. He didn’t even know why. Before yesterday she was less than a blip on his radar.

Now…

Now he didn’t know what she was to him. He still wanted to coax a smile out of her, wanted to watch the slow bloom of pleasure take her over, and he wanted to hear her smart mouth.

Maybe he was being stupid about the whole damn thing. It was really extraordinary sex, but it was just sex. He had to remember that.

He ducked behind the customer service counter. Thank fuck Jaime was too busy with the madness that was Mr. and Mrs. Blackstone’s visit to notice him. She was far too observant for her own good and he just didn’t have it in him to make excuses right now.

He opened up his laptop and double-checked the code he’d hardwired into the music loop they ran every three hours. He ticked off a few extra songs to make sure they tripped the system while the owners were there.

O Holy Night came on and he rubbed his neck. The wonder and complete happiness in her eyes last night had been worth all the work. Knowing that his idea had worked so well was simply a bonus.

Darcy and her boss walked into the jewelry department. They were in deep conversation. Darcy was at her buttoned-up best. Her hair was trapped in a braid that didn’t let a single strand loose around her face. She looked icy cool in her pearl-colored jacket and black pants. Her baby-blue blouse did nothing to dispel the untouchable aura around her.

He was fairly certain that no one in the store knew what burned under all that unflappable efficiency. She didn’t look up at him once. All of her focus was on Miriam and whatever they were talking about.

“Stop snacking on her with your eyes, Benjamin.”

His fingers flew over the keys. “Give me a break, Jaime.”

“Yesterday I wasn’t sure if you were good for her. Now I’m worried the reverse might be true.”

His gaze shot to hers. “Why?”

“Darcy’s got an innate ability to run this store.”

He nodded. After just one day with her, he could agree with that statement. Multitasking and planning were second nature to her. “What does that have to do with me?”

“This store is her life. The only way she’d be more obsessed with it is if she actually owned it.”

“I’m not a dumbshit Neanderthal that needs his woman’s total focus, Jaime.”

“Ah, but you’re already thinking of her in terms of your woman. Darcy’s not single because she’s pining for the perfect man, she’s single because this store is her man.”

“A store isn’t going to keep her warm at night.”

“Maybe, but she keeps herself so busy she doesn’t look at it that way.”

Ben crossed his arms and leaned back on the counter. “Aren’t you supposed to be the supportive best friend that gives me tips?”

She reached up and patted his cheek. “I am giving you a tip. You’re a clever guy.”

He frowned but didn’t have more time to ask questions. Darcy waved to him. With a flick of two keys, he turned on the program. The lights hummed, brightened once and the trailing ants feature he’d added started at the registers and flowed to the podium, then spiraled its way up the tree in an explosion of twinkling lights.

Darcy’s attention finally averted to his display. The quick and bright smile followed by more arm waving at him got him moving. The joy dimmed on her face as professionalism slammed down like a shield.

An older couple intercepted Darcy and Miriam. They were well into their sixties, with the stately demeanor of old money. Definitely the Blackstones. If the body language on the tall, white-haired gentleman and perfectly coiffed brunette didn’t give it away, Darcy’s sure did.

He slowed his pace, dipping his hands in his pockets. He was proud of his work, but he certainly wasn’t going to come to heel for a bunch of blue bloods.

Miriam smiled. “Ah, there’s our designer now. I was just telling my parents about your stunning lighting display.”

Ben nodded and held out his hand to Mr. Blackstone. He was tall, but still a few inches shorter than himself. “Ben Hartley. I’m glad I could step in and help out.”


Tags: Taryn Quinn Romance