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Christmas with the Marine Page 2


  “Are you there?”

  “I’m here,” she said as she left the parking lot, her mind still on the Marine. “And, yes, I know I’m running late. I got caught up doing some charity work. I’ll drop Bob’s presents off for you to wrap, and then I’ll head out to Clinical South.” The head administrator wanted to discuss gifts for the staff, and for any of the patients who would be stuck in the facility over the holidays.

  This really was their busiest time of year and she’d spent too much of her packed schedule helping the hot guy.

  “That’s why I’m calling. They actually pushed you to tomorrow. I’ve been trying to call for the last hour. Did you leave your phone in the car again?”

  No. She’d been distracted by the glorious man in uniform.

  “I didn’t hear it ring.”

  “I swear I’m going to put ‘The Imperial March’ on your phone so you hear when I call. Anyway, Craig Price at CIM wants to meet with you about gifts for his staff. He had a four o’clock open. Can I tell them you’ll be there?”

  She sighed. Craig was an ex. One of the several narcissists she’d dated, though he hadn’t been as bad as some of the others. He was married to his job, though, and when he thought it was okay to go six months between calling for dates, they parted ways. But his technology company, CIM, had over four hundred employees—that was a pretty tidy commission for her company.

  But Craig. Ugh.

  “I know he’s a prat, but that commission pays the mortgage for a year. I’d go, but I’m meeting with the Funky Monkey folks at three. They have a bunch of new merchandise they’re bringing by.”

  “I wish we could switch,” she said. She loved the boutique called Funky Monkey more than just about any other. The owner, Amy, was one of the most creative people she’d ever met.

  “I promise to nab something shiny for you. Craig specifically asked for you. Maybe he wants to apologize for being such a fool. And hello, we promised ourselves a Christmas bonus this year if we made our goals, and we’re so very close.”

  She had a point. And this was business. In the two years she’d been operating, she’d had to handle much worse. Some of her wealthiest clients, a few of whom were her parents’ friends, felt entitled and had to be treated that way. Even after she’d grown up around that sort of wealth, their attitudes chewed at her gut. But she wasn’t dumb. The client was always right. Even if they were jerks sometimes. Well, as long as they paid their bills.

  “Yep. You’re right. Yes, I can do four. Do you have suggestions? Did they give you a budget?”

  “Yes, on both counts. His assistant gave me the rundown on what type of gifts and how much they wanted to spend for each level from the board on down.”

  Ainsley did love it when they were organized. “Okay, good. That makes our job easier. Can you print out the ideas and put a book together for me?”

  They did most of their presentations on a laptop or tablet, but clients liked to have something they could hold in their hands and peruse. It was a trick she’d learned early on. Folks tended to buy more when they could feel the pages. Weird, but true.

  “Already working on it.”

  “And that, my friend, is why I love you best.”

  “Yes, luv, remember that when it’s time for my raise.” Ainsley smiled. Bebe could give herself a raise whenever she wanted, although they would discuss it first, as they did everything.

  “Yes, ma’am. Okay, so I’ll see you in a bit.”

  That’s what she needed—a reminder of what was most important. Her work. This was their most important time of the year. The last thing she wanted to deal with was a distraction.

  Especially a hot Marine.

  She took another deep breath.

  A very hot, sexy Marine.

  2

  THE HIGH SCHOOL cafeteria buzzed with activity. And it was loud. Really loud. Ben wasn’t a huge fan of big crowds or noise, but this was for a good cause. There were booths with everything from wooden toys to homemade candles to miniature Christmas trees. He’d never seen anything like it.

  “Explain to me again why we’re here and not watching the game? It’s almost the end of football season,” Matt complained.

  “I bought the toys, you guys have to help me haul them in to get them wrapped.” It would have taken him thirty trips from the car and back without his friends.

  He searched the throng of people for the pretty blonde, but he didn’t see her. Dang if he hadn’t thought about her all night.

  Jake grinned and tightened his grip on the bags he was carrying. It was as if his buddy could read his thoughts.

  Mari, Brody’s wife and mother of his child, bustled up next to him.

  “I think it’s sweet that you’re doing this,” Mari said to Ben. “You’re helping the Toys for Tots program and the fund-raiser for the drill team. You’re my hero.”

  Brody cleared his throat. “I thought I was your hero.”

  “Oh, honey, always. Always.” She kissed him, and Ben had to look away. Sometimes their intimacy bothered him. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because he’d never been that close to another person. He’d dated a lot of women, but none that made him feel the way that Brody talked about his wife. And his friend Matt was a goner, as well, with his fiancée, Chelly. His buddies were so wrapped up in their women, and Ben just didn’t get it.

  He was attracted to the women he dated, but his interest waned after a short while. The guys on the base where he taught helicopter maintenance classes, tested the machines and helped out with training missions called him Casanova because he had a different girl every week.

  There was one woman he definitely wanted to spend time with, but he had a feeling she was far beyond his reach.

  It took a few minutes but they finally found the booth set up for gift wrapping. It was staffed by a bunch of young girls, with ponytails, in stretch pants and T-shirts that read Dance with Me.

  “You want us to wrap how many?” one of the young girls asked. She had her hair piled so high on her head it almost added another foot.

  She gave him a once-over, and it was all he could do not to laugh. Where was Ainsley?

  “Yes, and I’ll donate two dollars a package, which is a dollar more than you guys usually ask for,” Ben said. Even at this young age, money talked.

  The girl’s smile grew, and then a woman came up behind her. She held out her hand. “Hi, I’m Coach Kaylie. That’s very generous of you. May I ask who these toys are for? There are a lot of them.” She didn’t look much older than the girl giving him a tough time.

  “Toys for Tots,” Jake said, as he patted Ben on the back. “Our boy here picked them all out, but we need help wrapping them.”

  “Terrific,” Kaylie said. “That’s so kind that you’re doing this for kids. Of course we’ll help you. And we really appreciate the donation. We’re trying to get to three different dance competitions this year, so every penny counts.” She batted her eyelashes at Jake.

  This time Ben did chuckle. Jake had that effect on women. Never failed.

  “Wonderful,” a woman’s voice said. He glanced down to see Ainsley. She was here, and she looked every bit as beautiful as she had the day before. He’d been sure his imagination had been playing tricks on him.

  Today, she wore jeans and boots that came up to her knees. But it was the tight white sweater that nearly did him in. Her body was the stuff of fantasies. His fantasies.

  Once again he found himself clearing his throat, and he positioned the bag he was carrying so no one would see the sudden tent in his pants.

  Crap. Sad puppies. Old, crinkly people. He had to think of something that was not the beautiful woman beside him.

  “Hi,” he said. Well, that was brilliant.

  She beamed up at him. “I’ve brought the rest of your gifts. Got
them first thing this morning. Since they’re for the nursing home, I asked the girls to put them in bags with tissue so it would be easier for those arthritic hands to open,” she said sweetly. “They should be just about finished with those.”

  “You really do think of everything.”

  “Part of the job.”

  “Oh,” Kaylie said. “This is the guy you were talking about?”

  “Yes,” Ainsley, said waving a hand to the group of kids wrapping at the tables behind the coach. There was now a bunch of boys, as well. “I’m glad you picked up some more volunteers.”

  “Yeah, I never seem to have a hard time getting the football and basketball teams to help out the dancers. Though, keeping a constant eye on them isn’t always the easiest.” Kaylie laughed. “We should be done in about thirty minutes with the seniors’ gifts, and we’ll need a few hours for the tots.”

  Brody groaned behind him.

  “It’s okay, guys, if you want to go on home.” He turned back to Kaylie. “Can some of those players help me load the truck later?”

  “Absolutely,” she said.

  “I’ll stay,” Jake offered. “I don’t mind volunteering if you need help,” he said to Kaylie. “I’m not much good at wrapping, but I’m good at other things.”

  Kaylie and Ainsley both roared with laughter.

  “What?” Jake asked innocently. “I meant I can keep an eye on the players to make sure they aren’t trying to put the moves on these lovely young ladies.”

  The dancers giggled and whispered to one another.

  “I might take you up on that,” Kaylie said. “You two,” she called out, pointing to Ainsley and Ben, “go look around and come back in a couple of hours. We’ll have everything ready.”

  “That sounds like a good plan,” Brody said. “I’m going to search for Mari. Make sure she doesn’t need help with anything. Matt, I can give you a ride back.”

  They waved goodbye and then left.

  Ainsley crooked her arm through his. “Come on, Marine. I’ll buy you lunch and we can check out the booths. I have a few homemade gifts on my list. I might find them here.”

  He’d walk across hot coals to spend a little time with her, so he could easily handle the loud noise of the craft fair a little longer. “Only if you let me buy,” he said.

  “Sure. If you really want to.”

  “Hey, you’ve donated a lot of time and like I said, I owe you a meal at the very least.”

  “Whatever. Come on.”

  He thought they’d head back to the parking lot. He planned on taking her somewhere nice. Instead, she pulled him through a maze of booths to reach the other end of the cafeteria.

  “Hold up, you want to eat here?”

  “Yes,” she said. “This booth has the best chili pies.”

  She walked up to the window. “Who made the chili today?” she asked the elderly woman manning the cash box.

  “Frank,” the woman replied. “He doesn’t let anyone else touch it. Doesn’t want to ruin his reputation. What can I get for you?”

  “You are in for a treat,” Ainsley said to Ben. “Frank is an award-winning chili star. His daughter, Amber, is on the drill team. He’s pretty much the best thing about coming to the craft fair.”

  She turned to the woman. “We need two chili pies and a Coke. And what do you want to drink?” she said to him.

  “Water is good.” He didn’t drink a lot of soda. He tried to avoid sugar and he was careful about what he ate, too. Not that he had a lot of choice when he was deployed. You ate what the mess hall gave you or what was in your pack. But when he was stateside he ate fresh food whenever he could. He’d learned to cook when he was kid. It’d helped out his mom because she had to work so much of the time.

  “You okay?” Ainsley was handing him a bottle of water.

  “What? Yeah. Sorry. I’ve never had a chili pie.”

  “No way. Fritos and chili and cheese. Best things ever. Are you some kind of health nut? Is that how you have that hot bod?” Her eyes flashed as if she’d realized what she’d just said.

  “You think I’m hot?”

  “Marine, everyone here thinks you’re hot.”

  A grin spread across his face. “Uh, thanks. But I don’t think everyone’s looking at me, I have a feeling all eyes are on you. How could they not be? You’re gorgeous.”

  She snorted. “You’re so polite.”

  “You don’t know how beautiful you are, do you?”

  She shrugged. “Don’t really think about it. Let’s go sit. Can’t believe I’m hanging out with a chili pie virgin. This is going to be fun.”

  He nearly tripped when she said the word virgin. He picked up their drinks, so she could grab the cardboard containers with their food. The chili didn’t smell too bad, and he was hungry. She led him to an orange table with matching plastic chairs. Been a long time since he’d eaten in a high school cafeteria.

  “Make sure you get some Fritos in that first bite. It’s the salty mixed with the chili spices that makes it worthy of worship.”

  He did what she’d told him and it was...good. Really good. “I had no idea corn chips could taste like this.”

  “I know, right? So amazing.” She took a swig of her drink. “How long have you been in the Marines?”

  “Joined up the week I graduated from high school. Best way I could think of to take care of my mom and little sister. It was decent pay, and I didn’t have to worry about living expenses so I could send them just about everything I made.”

  She blinked and he wasn’t sure if those were tears in her eyes.

  “Did I say something to upset you?”

  “No. Not at all. You risked your life when you were nothing but a kid to take care of your family?”

  “Yeah. And I’ll admit, it seemed cool at the time. Fighting for my country. But I had no idea what I was getting into. Still, I wouldn’t trade being a Marine for anything.”

  She blinked again.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yep. I’ve just never met a selfless man before. You’re an anomaly.”

  Her compliment made him laugh.

  “I don’t know about that. Maybe you just haven’t met the right guys.”

  “True that.” She wiped some chili from the corner of her mouth with a paper napkin. “I’m so impressed that even that young you were looking after your people. Wow, when I was eighteen, I was an idiot. Partying in college and making bad choices.” She rolled her eyes. “Really bad choices.”

  He chuckled. “Well, if I’d had the opportunity, I probably would have made worse choices, another reason why my mom didn’t fuss too much when I went off to boot camp. She knew I needed the discipline. I was never a bad kid, but I didn’t always make the smart choices, especially in high school. My grades were low.” Of course, a lot of that had to do with being tired from working sometimes as many as two jobs after school. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to help his family.

  It had taken his mom challenging the principal in front of the school board before they finally gave him some grace. His mom was a lot of great things, and fierce was one of them. Never in his life had he won an argument with her, and the principal had learned that the hard way.

  “Still,” she said, “it took me another four years before I figured out what I wanted to do. And another year after that before I finally had the guts to do it. What you do is heroic and dangerous. It takes a special type of person to do that job. To run toward the scary when everyone else is running away.”

  “We don’t really think about it that way.” He wanted to find out more about her, and he’d never been comfortable talking about himself. “I’m curious how you make money shopping for people.”

  She blanched.

  Shoot. He’d done i
t again. “No, no. I mean, I think it’s a cool job. And I’m curious about how it works. Oh, and that reminds me.” He pulled out a wad of cash. “How much do I owe you?”

  “You can pay me later. I have receipts for you in my car. I was able to get some of the stuff donated when I told them what it was for, so I bought twice as much. I hope that’s okay. Maybe these elderly people might enjoy getting more than one gift. It’s small stuff, mostly, to make their lives more comfortable. Only spent a little over half your budget and that’s with the wrapping. I’ll have to look at the receipts but it was right around six hundred.”

  “You are good at this. We can donate the rest to the charity. Are you sure I can’t compensate you in some way?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. And to answer your question, I usually get a commission. A negotiated percentage of the whole budget. A lot of what I do is for corporate clients. Finding the perfect gifts for their staff or for guests they have coming in, or finding giveaways for trade shows. We have a whole division for that last thing, and by division, I mean that’s mostly what my partner, Bebe, handles, where she finds promotional swag for different companies.”

  He swallowed the last bit of chili. “That’s interesting. I didn’t even know a business like that existed.”

  She put down her fork. “Yeah, my grandmother actually helped me figure it out.”

  “Did she have the same kind of business?”

  “Oh, no. She’s a retired professor who lives in Ireland now. But she’s always had a knack for finding the perfect gifts for people. Like an intuitiveness for knowing what’s wanted. I sort of inherited it from her. I know that sounds weird, but I get this gut feeling for what’s right for folks. And after college, I wasn’t quite sure what to do with that awesome philosophy degree I had.”

  “Wow. I didn’t see that one coming,” he said honestly. He figured an MBA or something.

  “What? I can spout Plato and Charles Hartshorne with the best of them.”

  “I know the first, never heard of the second.”

  “Trust me, most people haven’t. But about two months after I graduated, I was working as a personal shopper at Neiman Marcus in Dallas. I really wasn’t qualified to do anything else. I was promoted three times in six months. Grandma said I should take what I was best at and apply it to my career goals. ‘But never work for the man.’ Did I mention Grandma is a bit of a hippie, much to the chagrin of my mom, her daughter?