His for the Holidays Read online

“Hannah Christy. 4B,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”

  Although the way she said it, that wasn’t quite the truth.

  It didn’t matter that he was incredibly close to completely losing his patience, Gage forced himself to smile as he took off his coat and sat down beside her. “So…looks like you’re getting back from a long trip.” As much as he loathed small talk, it was an excellent distraction–which he desperately needed right now.

  “Not long,” she replied pleasantly. “Just went home for a few days for Thanksgiving.”

  He counted four pieces of luggage, including her purse, and frowned. He’d seen her around the building enough to know that she looked like the least high-maintenance woman he’d ever met. Most of the time she was dressed casually–although not as casually as she was right now–and didn’t seem like the kind of person who would require this much luggage for a short trip.

  “Where’s home?” he asked.

  “Up near Baltimore. That’s where my parents and siblings still are. I’m the only one to move away.” She shrugged. “I flew up on Tuesday and got back in this afternoon. Fortunately, I can work from almost anywhere so I was able to bring my laptop and stuff with me. I was looking forward to getting home and unwinding, but now who knows when I’ll get there.” She munched on another cookie without offering him one, and he wasn’t sure if she was being rude or was just clueless.

  All he did know was that he was hungry and stressed and wouldn’t mind a cookie or two.

  “And your mother sent you home with cookies?” he said with a grin. “That’s very generous of her!”

  Finally taking the hint, Hannah picked up the cookie tin and offered it to him. “Would you like one? They’re very decadent.”

  “Thanks.” He took one bite and almost moaned with pleasure. “Damn. These are fantastic!”

  She nodded with a smile. “Yeah. My mother is an amazing baker. Dad cooks, Mom bakes. They make a great team.”

  “You’re lucky. My mother likes to think she can cook, but trust me, she can’t. And her baking is even worse. She likes to joke it’s why my father left, but…” he shrugged with a small laugh. “We never starved, so there’s that.”

  “Does she live close by?”

  Shaking his head, he took another bite of the cookie. “Not really. I grew up just outside of Chimney Rock in a little town called Evergreen Valley. She’s still there. All of my sisters moved away after college–primarily to Charlotte and Greensboro. I lived in Greensboro for a few years, but then my job recently brought me to Raleigh. It’s an easy drive to go and visit her–and my sisters–but I get a lot of grief for moving so far away. Although…I try to go and see her at least one weekend a month.”

  “She must enjoy that. I know if I still lived in the area, I’d be expected for dinner at least once a week. I love my family and I do miss them, but I enjoy having my own space and privacy.” With a soft sigh, she leaned back against the wall. “Normally I go home for both Thanksgiving and Christmas, but I had to break it to them that I won’t be able to do Christmas this year.”

  “How come?”

  There was a small hesitation before she closed her laptop and looked at him. “Well, I’m about to be named the lead on a big project at work. It’s going to be very time-consuming and I just can’t spare the time to be away. I’ve been building up to this for months and once everything is secured, I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize it. I need to be hyper-focused.”

  “And what is it that you do?”

  “I’m an interior designer with LLH Interiors here in Raleigh. We work with a lot of architects and commercial construction companies,” she explained before taking another bite of her cookie. “This project I’m going to be starting is a massive medical complex going up just a little west of the city. I’ve busted my butt on this thing and the final presentation is in the morning.” She smiled before adding, “But it’s just a formality. My boss told me I’m a shoo-in for it so…” Another smile. “What about you? What do you do?”

  “I’m a communications analyst specializing in cyber security.” When she just blinked at him, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, it’s as boring as it sounds.”

  “So you’re kind of like a tech geek?”

  Gage had been called a lot of things in his life, but certainly not a geek–not in any capacity. “You know, that is really insulting. I mean…who says that to someone?”

  Hannah laughed and reached out, resting her hand on his arm. “Oh my goodness, no! I was just…I don’t know. I didn’t mean it in a bad way! I swear! I guess I figured you to be a lawyer or something.”

  “A lawyer? Why?”

  She shrugged. “You dress like a lawyer.”

  Gage looked down at himself and frowned, unsure if that was a compliment or an insult. Clearing his throat, he murmured, “I don’t know about that, but…this is just how I normally dress.”

  “Oh, I know. I’ve never seen you in anything but this whole getup. It’s very nice, but kind of…lawyer-ish.”

  He couldn’t help but look down at himself again and wondered what was so lawyer-ish about a good suit? “Well, we all can’t wear jeans and sweatshirts to work…”

  Now it was Hannah’s turn to frown. “I spend a lot of time on construction sites so it’s pointless to dress up. My job is very hands-on so I pick clothes for functionality rather than fashion.”

  “I didn’t mean to…” But his words were cut off by the sound of an incoming text. Glancing at the screen, he groaned when he saw his mother’s picture.

  Mom: Hey! Did you talk to your bosses about Christmas? Your sisters all already said yes and Sarah’s planning on bringing Irene with her! Won’t that be nice? You know how she’s always had a crush on you!

  Raking a hand through his hair, Gage let out a long breath.

  “Everything okay?” Hannah asked.

  Another groan was out before he could stop it, and he let his head loll back against the wall before answering. “Just…family stuff.”

  Beside him, she nodded. “Like I said, I moved away and enjoy my privacy but I still have to deal with my share of guilt and drama, so…I get it.”

  Maybe talking to her–basically a stranger–would help him figure out how to handle this particular situation. Twisting slightly, he studied her face for a moment. Even in the dim lighting he could see her gently biting her lower lip and the uncertainty in her face. It was enough to make him contemplate changing the subject, but…

  “Can I ask you something?”

  She nodded. “Sure.”

  “What did your parents say when you told them you wouldn’t be home for Christmas?”

  Turning toward him, she shrugged. “The usual guilt: how could I do this? Why do I want to ruin Christmas? It won’t be the same without you here…blah, blah, blah…”

  The laugh was out before he could stop it because that was pretty much the argument his mother gave him on Saturday. “Sounds vaguely familiar.”

  “Oh, I’m sure!” Laughing with him, she asked, “So that’s what the text was? More guilt about the holidays?”

  “Yeah, but…it’s complicated.” He resumed his position with his back and head against the wall.

  “Look, we’ve got nothing but time to kill here, so if you want to talk about it…”

  It was starting to feel a little warm in there so he took off his tie, unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, and rolled up his sleeves a bit. “Is it me or is it a little too quiet out there? Shouldn’t we hear them banging around or something by now?”

  “Nice diversion,” she muttered, reaching for another cookie. “I was trying not to think about that.”

  “Sorry.” And because he felt like he could, he helped himself to another cookie as well. “Okay, so my mother lives in and is the manager of a fifty-five and over community. It’s sort of like this building except everyone there is…well…fifty-five and older.”

  “O-kay…”

  “So she’s gotten a little…shall we say…competitive with some of the other residents.”

  “Competitive how?”

  He inwardly groaned and cursed the fact that he’d even brought this up, but when he looked at Hannah, she seemed genuinely interested. “It seems like there’s a bit of a competition over who has the most grandchildren and whose children visit the most,” he explained carefully. “They’re having this massive Christmas party for all the residents and their families this year and my mother has been after all of us to attend.”

  Hannah blinked. “That’s it? You’re all twitchy over a Christmas party? What’s the big deal?”

  Rather than answer right away, Gage reached for another cookie and took a bite.

  “Do you not like the holidays?” she asked while he chewed. “Hate parties?”

  He swallowed hard and wished he had something to drink. “I love the holidays and am usually on board for a good party. It’s just…this particular party is putting a lot of…awkward pressure on me.” Glancing over at Hannah, he sighed. “I think I left out some important information.”

  “I’m all ears,” she eagerly replied.

  “I have four older sisters. They’re all married and have kids. Lots and lots of kids,” he added wearily.

  “Oh…I get it. Now everyone’s looking to you to add to the list of grandkids so your mom can show off a bit to the other residents.”

  Nodding, he took another bite. “Basically.”

  “How many grandkids does she already have?”

  “Twelve,” he murmured. “My oldest sister Christina has five. Stephanie has three–she’s the next oldest. My other two sisters are twins–Sarah and Amy–and they each have two kids. Actually, Sarah gave birth to twins eight months ago. You’d think it would be enough to keep everyon
e happy, right?”

  “I would think so…”

  “Now they’re all banding together with my mother and making me their holiday project. Finding me a wife so I can have kids and help my mother’s cause is now some sort of family sport. Every time I’m with any of them, they’re throwing single women at me. It’s exhausting.” Leaning his head back against the wall, he let out a long breath as he closed his eyes–fairly certain Hannah was looking at him as if he were crazy.

  And maybe he was. After all, it wasn’t the worst thing a guy could go through, right?

  He continued, “Here’s a perfect example for you. We had Thanksgiving dinner at Steph’s this year. Everything was going great. I was totally relaxed, and then suddenly two of her single friends showed up unexpectedly to join us for dinner.” He snorted with disgust. “Like I didn’t see right through that.”

  Shaking his head, Gage wondered why his family thought he was a complete idiot who didn’t know what was going on.

  “Let me guess,” Hannah said, interrupting his thoughts. “You have zero interest in getting married and having kids.”

  Gage shook his head. “That’s not it at all. I can’t wait to get married and have a couple of kids. Hell, I’d love to have all those things but…I haven’t met the woman to do that with yet and I don’t think having random women thrown at me is going to make it happen either.”

  “Well…you can’t really know that. Do you get out and socialize a lot?”

  “No, but…”

  “Do you date a lot?”

  “Not really, but…”

  “Have you tried online dating?”

  “That’s not my thing, but…”

  “Then how do you expect to find this perfect woman if you’re not willing to actively look for her?” Hannah demanded.

  “There really wasn’t a big push for it to happen until recently,” he argued. “And the more they push…”

  “The more you want to resist. Got it.” Then she turned her head and muttered, “Typical man.”

  “Excuse me?”

  The lights flickered briefly and they both glanced around before looking at each other again.

  “All I’m saying is…” she began and then let out a small scream as the elevator lurched slightly right before the sound of creaking metal split the air. The next thing he knew, she was pressed up against him, her hands fisting his shirt as she burrowed her face against his neck. “This is not the way I want to die!”

  Gage wrapped his arms around her, held his breath, and had to agree.

  Chapter Two

  Abject terror was Hannah’s first response, but once the elevator stopped, she immediately honed in on how good Gage smelled.

  It wasn’t logical to be thinking of something like that when they were about to plummet to their deaths, but…there it was.

  They stayed locked together for a solid minute before slowly separating. Hannah looked up and saw the same wariness she knew he was seeing on her face. “Do you think…?” Before she could finish that thought, the lights flickered again, followed by the same grinding metal sound and Gage simply reached for her and held her tight.

  With her eyes squeezed shut, she mentally chanted, “Please don’t drop, please don’t drop, please don’t drop…” and she held her breath so long that there was no choice but to let it out and breathe.

  “It’s quiet again,” Gage whispered.

  “I really wish someone would call and tell us what’s going on,” she quietly responded. “Was that noise because they’re working on the elevator or is something going wrong?”

  “Honestly? I have no idea.” Again, they slowly separated, and it took several minutes to relax. “I wish I had something to drink. All those cookies…”

  Hannah was about to agree when she remembered the gift Shawna had given her. Twisting, she pulled the gift bag out of her purse. “It’s not water, but I think it may help in this situation.”

  “Wine?” he asked with a small laugh.

  “Shawna gave them to me down in the lobby. I’m not usually much of a wine drinker, but…” Pausing, she stared at the bottle in her hand and wanted to cry.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “No corkscrew,” she told him as she fought the urge to stomp her feet in frustration. “I can’t believe I got my hopes up for nothing!”

  “Hannah…”

  “Why can’t something go right here, huh? Isn’t it bad enough that we’re stuck? Is it too much to ask that maybe things could suck just a little less while we’re here?”

  “Um…”

  “And I get that it’s been all of fifteen minutes, but still!” She knew she was getting stupidly riled up and part of her wanted Gage to argue with her, but all he did was turn and reach for his satchel. It was crazy to think he had a corkscrew in there because…well, let’s face it, normal people didn’t carry corkscrews around for wine emergencies.

  Or did they?

  A minute later, he held up his keychain and smiled. “Crisis averted!”

  It wasn’t obvious what he meant so she waited for him to explain.

  “Believe it or not, this used to belong to my grandfather–it’s a Swiss Army knife.” He looked at her again before going on. “This particular one doesn’t have the corkscrew attachment, but we can definitely improvise.”

  Was it wrong that she wanted to kiss him with gratitude? Or that she blurted out, “You’re my hero”?

  All he did was smile at her as he stuck one of the attachments carefully into the cork before slowly twisting to pull it out. Hannah knew she’d never been so happy to hear that little popping sound in her entire life.

  “Wine and cookies. This is just like some of my favorite girls’ nights!” she told him with a chuckle as he handed her the bottle. “Only…no cups.”

  “Not to worry,” he murmured, reaching into his satchel again. “I’ve got my travel mug that I use for my coffee in the morning.” He grinned at her. “And it’s clean.” Pulling the lid off, he tossed it back into the bag. “We can either share the cup or one of us can just swig from the bottle. Your choice.”

  There was a part of her that knew it was a bit unladylike to swig from the bottle, but…

  “You use your cup. I don’t mind the bottle.”

  “Deal,” he said with amusement.

  Hannah poured him a generous portion before putting the bottle down. “If you’re interested, I have another tin of cookies that have a bit more of a variety in them.”

  “I really want to say that I don’t want to eat all the cookies your mother sent with you, but…I have a feeling dinner won’t be happening any time soon.”

  “Please, I don’t even want to think about it.” She reached into her weekender bag and pulled out the second tin she stashed in there earlier. Getting comfortable again, she took the top off and smiled. “Ooh…jackpot!”

  Gage leaned closer and inhaled. “Damn. That smells delicious.”

  And so do you…

  “Okay,” she said a little too loudly, making him move back. “We’ve got some red velvet crinkle cookies, which are pretty good. Then we’ve got hot cocoa cookies with marshmallow–a personal favorite of mine.” She gingerly moved a few cookies aside to see what else was in there. “Peppermint kiss, peanut butter blossoms, and…gingerbread kiss.”

  “Wow, that is a lot of choices.”

  Nodding, she told him, “It’s only the tip of the iceberg. My mother has a Christmas cookie repertoire of about thirty. If I had stayed longer, I would have had an even bigger variety. For all I know, there are different ones in the other two containers she sent with me.”

  “Seriously? She sent you home with four containers of cookies?”

  “I don’t think she wanted to, but I begged and played up the whole how much I was going to miss out by not coming home for Christmas angle.” Picking up a peppermint kiss, she shrugged. “I’m not completely proud of it, but now I’m thankful I have them. For all we know, we can be stuck here all night.”

  Beside her, he groaned. “Maybe we should limit how many cookies we eat from this point on. If we gorge on them and wine, things could turn ugly fast.”

  “Ew…don’t even talk like that,” she teased. “We’re adults. Surely we can tell when we’ve had enough.”

  He simply shrugged and took a red velvet cookie. “Red cookie and red wine. Not quite what I had in mind for dinner.”