Heating up the Holidays

He’s not merely attractive, her suddenly alert hormones informed her. He is steaming hot.

Okay, fine. Steaming hot. Lots of men were steaming hot. Didn’t they litter those men’s cologne ads? Yes, they did. So what was it about this one that got under her skin? Maybe she was allergic to him. She instantly brightened. That’s all this was-a pesky allergy. One antihistamine and she’d be cured.

It’ll take more than an allergy pill to purge this guy from your system, her talkative hormones whispered. And he hasn’t even touched you. Or kissed you.

Touched her…kissed her…

An image popped into her mind, of him walking toward her. Not stopping or slowing down, just wrapping those strong arms around her, picking her up and still walking, until her back hit the wall. Settling his beautiful mouth on hers. His tongue slipping past her lips. His hard, muscular body pressing against her-

“’Morning, gorgeous.”

The deep masculine voice yanked Toni from her sensual reverie and she blinked. And realized he’d walked to the counter. And that now only the three-foot-wide slab of granite-and a dozen centerpieces-separated them. Three feet and a bunch of flowers she could easily reach across. Or jump over.

Heat rushed into her face and she inwardly winced. Great. Now she’d look blotchy. Annoyance-at herself for her runaway thoughts and at him for looking so damn tempting-skittered through her. A good dose of irritation followed, thanks to the way her heart sped up because he’d called her gorgeous. He undoubtedly called every woman that. It irked her no end that she wasn’t as immune to such meaningless flattery as she’d thought.

“Good morning,” she said, looking down, partly to keep from staring at him, partly to hide the flame scorching her cheeks. She stabbed pine into the centerpiece in front of her with far more force than necessary.

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. “You look sorta…flushed.”

Her head jerked up at that. Their gazes collided and she found herself staring into his beautiful, ocean-colored eyes, the sort you could drown in while trying to figure out if they were more green or blue.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice laced with a hint of challenge, daring him to disagree.

Instead he nodded. Then grinned. “You sure are.”

That damn grin crinkled the corners of those beautiful eyes and annoyingly seemed to peel away several layers of muscle from her legs.

“It’s just the reflection of all these red leaves and decorations and lights,” she said, waving her hand to encompass the store.

His gaze followed her hand, pausing on the Christmas tree set in the window. “Pretty tree,” he said. “Is that a new addition?”

“It’s been there for the past two weeks.”

He returned his attention to her and smiled. Whoa. The grin was pretty damn great, but the full smile was potent with a capital P. Warm, flirty and intimate all at the same time. Another few layers of strength fled her knees without a backward glance. She stabbed in another piece of pine and pretended she didn’t feel it.

“Guess I was too busy looking at you to notice,” he said. “What are all those little red envelopes hanging on it?”

For an answer she handed him a flyer from the pile on the end of the counter. “The Twelve Steamy Nights of Christmas,” he read. His gaze flicked back up to hers. “Sounds promising.”

“It’s for charity,” she said quickly, groaning inwardly as the words poured from her like a flood-a curse that occurred whenever she was nervous. And dammit, he made her nervous. “Each envelope contains a gift for a… sensual night out.” Crap. Her tongue had tripped on the word sensual. “Local restaurants have donated meal cards, shops in the area gave gift cards, that sort of thing. For a twenty-five-dollar donation, you can pick any envelope you want. All the proceeds go to local charities.”

He nodded. “Very nice. Your idea?”

“Yes. It seemed a good way to introduce myself and Blooming Pails to the community and do some good at the same time.” Which was absolutely true-although the full truth was that after six months with zero sex, the idea was also inspired by her own deep desire for a steamy, sensual Christmas gift. But since nothing remotely resembling sexy, steamy, sensual-all those lovely S words-hovered in her immediate future, she’d just live vicariously through her customers.

“Great idea. Lots of folks need help, especially this time of year. A fire last night in Ocean Harbor Beach left a family homeless.”

Toni’s stomach clenched. “I’m sorry to hear that. Anyone hurt?”

“No, but they lost everything.”

“If they’re still alive, they didn’t lose anything that really matters.”

“True,” he agreed. “But it’s still a tough situation. The guys at all the stations in the county participate in a toy drive every Christmas. It’s really hard to think of kids not having a present from Santa to open.”

Toni nodded. She recalled the faces of such children, such families, who’d lost everything. Even now, three years later, with that life behind her, the images still haunted her. To this day she still jumped at the sound of a fire alarm, and adrenaline pumped at the sight of a fire truck. She blinked away the heart-wrenching memories and said, “The toy drive’s a great idea. Even as we speak, my assistant is dropping off our donation at the Santa Rey station.” An errand Toni had thought she was so smart sending Jayne off on so she wouldn’t have to visit the firehouse. Little had she known Brad would show up here while Jayne was gone.

“On behalf of all of us, I thank you.” He glanced back down at the flyer. “It says if you bring your little red envelope here the day you’re using the contents, Blooming Pails will provide a free rose for the date.” He looked at her and zoom went her pulse. “Pretty romantic.”

Was he laughing at her? It was impossible to tell, just something else annoying about him. She could usually read people very well, but Bradley Griffin and his unwanted sex appeal kept clogging up her receptors. “You have something against romance? Or roses?”

“Heck no. And to prove it, I’ll buy one of the red envelopes.” He reached into the back pocket of his jeans and she absolutely didn’t notice the fascinating play of muscles beneath his snug black T-shirt. Or the way his jeans clung to his lean hips and long muscular legs. Nope. Didn’t notice a thing. Besides, what was the big deal? She knew damn well what great shape firefighters had to be in. Just because his shape looked better than most didn’t mean she had to stare.

He pulled out his wallet and handed her twenty-five dollars. Their fingers brushed as the money exchanged hands, shooting a tingle straight up her arm. “Which envelope should I pick?”

Any one. Then take your tempting, sexy self out of here and don’t come back. She shrugged. “Your choice.”

He leaned a bit closer and she pulled in a quick breath, one that filled her head with his scent. God, he smelled good. Clean. Like sunshine and freshly showered man. She had to lock her knees and grip the edge of the counter to keep from giving in to the temptation to bury her nose against his neck and simply breathe him in.

“What if I said you were my choice?” he asked softly.

She forced her gaze to remain steady on his-his gaze that was filled with unmistakable interest. And heat. Enough heat to make her feel as if someone had just set a match to her skin. “I’d say you were trying to pick something off the wrong tree.”

For an answer he just smiled-which was bad enough on her already weakened knees, but then he winked.

Oh, God. Why did he have to wink? A man that good-looking shouldn’t be allowed to wink. Especially at her-a woman who harbored a freakish weakness for winking. And what this man could do with one wink…good lord, she needed to ring up his purchase and send him on his way.

She turned and headed toward the cash register. From the corner of her eye, she watched him peruse the tree, as if choosing a card was a monumental decision. Finally, he plucked one from an upper branch then walked toward her waggling the envelope between his long, strong fingers. “Wanna see what I got?”

God, do I ever. I wanna see everything you’ve got. She firmly told her inner voice to shut the hell up then picked up several roses and resumed her work. “If you want to