Читать книгу Christmas With The Marine - Candace Havens - Страница 10

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MARINE MAJOR BEN HAWTHORNE had served three tours in the Middle East. He’d survived being shot and a near-fatal helicopter crash. But this... This was beyond his capabilities. This is what happened when people gambled.

They ended up in giant toy stores in the Barbie aisle, trying to find the right one for a six-year-old orphan.

He’d rather go on another tour. Not that he didn’t want the child to have her toy, it was just difficult. There were so many. Doctor ones and scientists, and an underwater one. And they came in all sizes. But all the child had listed was “Barbie.” And Ben had lost a bet with his friends, so he was on his own buying more than one hundred gifts for the Toys for Tots program.

And he’d do it. As a kid, he’d lived through more than one Christmas without much under the tree. He understood how it felt to wake up with next to nothing there, not that it had bothered him much back then. He’d tried to make sure his little sister always had at least a couple of toys, even if they weren’t exactly what she wanted. Seeing that smile of hers was something he’d sorely missed while being out of the country for the past ten years.

So he felt a lot of responsibility to get this right. That was one of the reasons he hadn’t thrown much of a fit when he’d lost the bet.

Still, a Barbie was not his forte. GI Joe maybe, even Superman, but these dolls were beyond him.

“Hey, are you okay?” He glanced down to see a pair of light blue eyes staring back at him. They reminded him of the color of the sky on a clear day and were framed by a heart-shaped face and beautiful long strawberry-blond hair.

“What?”

Well, that was cool. Beautiful woman talking. Pay attention.

“You keep looking at the list and then the shelf. Do you need help? Are you buying something for your daughter?”

Her voice was soft and she didn’t have a drawl like most of the people who lived in Corpus Christi. Even a lot of the guys on the base where he taught had a Texas accent. He’d grown used to it.

“Do you work here?” Of course she didn’t work here. She was dressed in an expensive leather jacket and jeans and carrying one of those purses that probably cost more than his truck. The last woman he’d dated had treated that same kind of purse like it was her child. She’d definitely liked the purse more than she had him.

This lady laughed and heat warmed his lower regions. Come on, he told himself, she’s trying to help you.

“No, but thanks to my twin nieces I’m well versed in everything Barbie. If you tell me a bit more about the little girl, I can probably help you.”

She was beautiful, but more than that, he was desperate. If she could just point him in the right direction, he’d be her love slave for life.

Where the heck did that come from? Dude, chill.

He handed her the list. “It says she wants to be a vet when she grows up,” he said. “Each kid has a short, one-line description about them.”

Her eyebrow went up as she scanned the page. He pointed to the name of Jolie, the little girl in question. “She also likes puppies.”

“This is a long list of kids. Your family must be huge.” She frowned as her chin dropped and then she flipped to the next page and then the next. “There’s more than fifty names here.”

“Oh, no.” He laughed. “I kind of lost a bet and I’m having to get the gifts for the Toys for Tots program. I’m from the Marine base.” He pulled the other list out of his back pocket. “I also have a list of elderly patients from a nursing home facility who also need gifts.” It was the last time he’d be playing poker with his friends Brody and Matt. They’d been in charge of the Christmas event, and now it was all on him.

“Wow. That must have been some bet.”

He grunted. “Yep. Anyway, we have a fund everyone on the base donates to throughout the year, and then the first week of December we try to buy as many items as the money allows.”

“This, my friend, is your lucky day.” She grinned again, and then actually winked one of those beautiful blue eyes. It did all kinds of crazy things to his body.

Funny, he was thinking the same thing—about it being his lucky day. He’d practically been sent an angel for his very own Christmas present. He cleared his throat. “How’s that?”

“Well, I happen to be a professional shopper.”

His brows drew together. “So you like to shop?”

“More than that, it’s my business. I shop for busy professionals. That’s why I’m here. On the hunt for a few gifts for a CEO’s kids.”

“Wait. People pay you to shop for them?”

She smirked. “Yes. It’s a real profession, and I do just fine, thank you.”

He’d offended her, and held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry. I’ve just never heard of anything like that. But it’s cool. I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m the guy standing here staring at a million dolls without a clue what to do.”

She shrugged. “I’m used to the attitude. My family feels that way about my chosen profession. Since you’re doing this for charity, and I think it’s sweet you’re taking this so seriously, trying to find the right gift for each child, I’ll help for free.”

“Oh, I don’t mind paying for your services.” That sounded really wrong. A woman walked past them and gave them a dirty look. “I mean, uh, I’d be grateful. So much so that I’ll pay the fee.”

She started laughing. “Sweet. But you can’t afford me.”

Another woman walked by, yanking her kids along, giving them more dirty looks. They would get arrested if they kept this up.

“Before we get thrown out, maybe I should hurry up and say thanks. And can I buy you dinner, at least?”

She laughed nervously. “Hmm. We’ll see.” She held out her hand. “I’m Ainsley Garrett.”

He shook her hand and her skin was so smooth. “I’m Ben Hawthorne, and thanks again.”

“Go get two more carts. I’ll start on your list.”

* * *

TWO HOURS AND six carts of toys later, he had everything he was supposed to buy. He and one of the store clerks were piling the bags in the back of his SUV when Ainsley walked out carrying a couple of large bags of her own.

“Hey,” he called to her and waved. “I really would like to thank you. Let me take you to dinner.”

“It isn’t necessary. Besides, I have plans.” And just like that she shot him down. Figured. Someone as beautiful as she was wouldn’t be alone. But at least he’d tried.

“Okay, but I feel guilty about not paying you for your time.”

“No worries. It was fun.”

If she said so. Even though the toys were for a good cause, shopping gave him a headache.

She turned and walked away, and he wanted to say something. Pull her back into his orbit. Even though he understood she was way out of his league—from her designer shoes to those sunglasses perched on top of her head—he was sad their time together was up.

Pathetic. Yeah, but it had been a long time since he’d met a woman like her. Maybe never. He hadn’t seen a ring, but she might have a boyfriend or be engaged, and he didn’t poach.

He’d seen too many of his fellow Marines cheated on by lonely spouses left back home. So he was wary of that sort of thing. And it was one of many reasons he wasn’t big on long-term anything. He was married to his job and planned to stay that way for the foreseeable future.

He turned to finish helping the clerk with the last of the bags.

“Hey,” she said.

He glanced back.

“So, do you have to wrap all those gifts by yourself?”

Shoot. He hadn’t even thought of that. He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Man, that didn’t even occur to me.” It was the truth. He’d have to buy paper, and he was the world’s worst gift-wrapper, not that he’d done it that often. A few times, he’d sent things home while he was overseas, but he never wrapped them.

“Give me your phone.”

Was she giving him her phone number? Things were looking up.

She typed into his phone and then handed it back to him. It was an address.

Even better.

“Tomorrow, meet me there at twelve forty-five. The drill team is holding their annual craft fair.”

“Drill team?” What was she talking about?

“They have a gift-wrapping service. For a dollar donation per gift they’ll wrap it and do a beautiful job.”

“Thank you. I’ll definitely do that. Wait? Did you say meet you there?”

She nodded. “Yes. Give me your list for the nursing home.”

He pulled the paper out of his back pocket. She perused it again.

“What’s your budget?”

“We have eleven hundred dollars, but I was going to add a little more if we needed it.”

“I think that should be plenty. I’ll pick these gifts up for you and meet you at the high school tomorrow. See ya.”

“Hold on. Don’t you need money for the gifts?”

“Not yet. You can give it to me tomorrow. How gullible are you giving your money to a stranger?”

“You just helped me buy a couple thousand dollars’ worth of toys for children. I’m pretty sure I can trust you.” She didn’t bother to turn around.

What kind of person went and bought all those gifts without taking the cash?

Look on the bright side, he told himself, at least you’ll see her the next day. That idea for the gift wrapping was awesome. The whirlwind that was Ainsley had saved him. Again.

“Thanks,” he said belatedly. But it was to air. He hadn’t even seen where she’d gone.

Hmm. She was so beautiful and kind. Hard combination to find sometimes.

But so out of his league.

Yes, she was. And he had a feeling she was going to fuel a whole lot of fantasies for a while.

Yep. Enjoy your dreams. Since that was about the only way a guy like him was going to get a woman like her.

* * *

AS HARD AS she tried not to, Ainsley stole a look in her rearview mirror at Ben. That man was too gorgeous for words with his muscles, chiseled jaw and close-cut Marine haircut. Her mouth had gone dry when she’d seen the big muscled man in a uniform searching for dolls, of all things. He’d been so serious, trying to find the right gifts for kids, as if he was on the mission of a lifetime. He’d been so enthusiastic about making sure those children had a great Christmas that it had been contagious. It had been the most fun she’d had in a really long time.

He had a heart.

It was something she was pretty sure had been missing from the last three guys she’d dated, two of whom her parents had picked out for her. She’d never trust them again. The men they pointed out to her were all narcissistic jerks, every one of them. And she couldn’t imagine any of them, losing a bet or not, shopping for gifts for a bunch of kids and the elderly.

That tugged at her in a way she couldn’t ignore.

No. No more men. The next two years I’ll be focused on growing my business.

Ben lifted his arms to close the back of his SUV and his shirt pulled loose from his jeans. Those abs. Chiseled was the only word that came to mind. Like they’d been carved in stone.

She sucked in a breath.

Oh, my. She fanned herself and waited for him to pull out of the parking lot before backing out her hybrid. That was a M-A-N.

Though it had been work she’d had a good time today. She and Ben had laughed as they questioned some of the toys’ characteristics. Like a doll that pooped, and one that had the creepiest voice as it called for its mama. It made them both shiver, and then chuckle out loud.

After they’d picked up the gifts for the girls on the list, they’d been to the aisle with all the Matchbox cars.

“I bet you had a ton of these when you were a kid,” she’d said.

He’d held one of the sports cars with reverence. “No...” His voice had been a whisper and then he’d frowned. And that’s when she’d noticed he didn’t have a lot of experience with toys...at all. Everything seemed new to him.

What kind of childhood had he had?

It made her feel selfish because she’d never wanted for anything. Ever. She’d wanted to ask him about his past, but it didn’t seem right. And she had the sense that it might make him sad. They only had a few hours together and she hadn’t wanted to ruin it.

It also felt good to help someone in need. Okay, she did that every day. Her job gave her the greatest joy, as she helped her clients find the perfect gifts for their loved ones, employees and friends. But making kids and old people happy—that was a different level of giving.

Her phone rang. “Accept call,” she said.

“Hello?” Bebe said. Her trusty partner’s British accent came through loud and clear. Ainsley wasn’t sure what she’d do without her best friend—the woman was a master scheduler and kept their finances in order. She also wasn’t afraid to talk to a client about a bill, which was something that made Ainsley really uncomfortable. Talking about money always did. Bebe had started as an assistant, but had quickly become her partner in crime.

“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.