Darlene Gardner - The Christmas Gift

“Or he could start a healthy competition,” Alex countered. “Maybe Grandma Novak even arranged to have both men here at the same time.”

“Charlie told me he came by to surprise her. Besides, Grandma hasn’t dated in twenty years! Believe me, the woman doesn’t know what she’s doing.” Krista narrowed her eyes. “Now are you going to help me or not?”

The fire in her expression warned Alex what she’d think of him if he refused. “Okay. I’ll distract Burton.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him and bustled off, taking a circuitous path, probably so Burton wouldn’t gaze in the direction of the cashier’s station.

Alex adopted a helpful expression. He rejoined Burton, whose face was pinched underneath his wild mop of white hair.

“Don’t you dare try to show me any trees,” Burton said.

“Hey, I’m Santa Claus,” Alex tried reminding him. “I aim to please.”

Burton seemed to relax. “Between you and me, I met this Leona Novak on the internet. Didn’t realize how old she was ’til after I put on my reading glasses. By then, I’d already emailed her.”

“Excuse me?” Alex injected his tone with heavy disapproval.

Burton kept on talking. “Would’ve canceled but I figured why disappoint the old gal.”

“That old gal is younger than you,” Alex said. “What makes you think she won’t be disappointed in you?”

“It’s different for men,” Burton said. “Everybody knows we get better looking with age.”

Grandma Novak would see right through this guy, Alex thought. Krista was across the store, ushering Charlie Crosby toward the exit. Showing Burton the door would have been the better move.

“Go ahead and share that theory with Leona,” Alex suggested. “She’ll enjoy it.”

Burton perked up. “You think so?”

“Sure do,” Alex said. “She’s behind the cash register. You can’t miss her.”

“Got it.” Burton strutted off, a lamb to the slaughter.

Alex spotted Krista the instant she reentered the store. She looked well pleased with herself, her smile lighting up her eyes as she walked toward him. He was proud of himself for noticing her eyes, considering how much willpower it took not to let his gaze dip to the rest of her.

“Mission accomplished,” she said. “I think Charlie’s a keeper.”

“Burton’s not.” Alex gestured to the cashier’s desk in the distance where the elderly man was talking to Grandma Novak. “Your grandmother’s sure to send him packing any moment now.”

No sooner had Alex uttered the words than Grandma Novak shook a finger in Burton’s face. He reeled back, pivoted and walked quickly toward the exit with his head down.

“How did you know she was going to do that?” Krista asked.

“Lucky guess,” Alex said. “I’m gonna grab a quick lunch. There are sandwiches, chips and drinks in the back room. Want to join me?”

“I can’t,” she said. “I’m going to relieve my mom at the ball crawl. She needs the break more than I do.”

“Good luck convincing her of that,” Alex said.

“Oh, I’ll do it,” Krista vowed. “I can be very persuasive. It’s a Novak family trait.”

She sashayed away from him, her elf dress swishing as she walked. He watched her until she rounded an aisle and was out of sight, helpless to look away.

If she carried through on her threat to proposition him, he wasn’t entirely certain he’d be able to resist.

Especially if she added persuasion into the mix.

RAYNA NOVAK HURRIED through the parking lot to the flat gray building, her scarf shielding her face from the wind. She pushed through one of the double glass doors, expecting to be enveloped in warmth. Then she remembered.

An ice hockey rink was not the place to go in the winter if you wanted to be cozy. She unwrapped her scarf, slipped off her gloves and followed the sounds of men’s voices and blades sliding on ice.

Peering through the glass that partitioned off the rink to the scoreboard, she determined the ice hockey game was tied at two goals a piece in the third period.

A team of men in mismatched dark hockey sweaters, some with numbers affixed with masking tape, skated against players wearing white.

The swiftest of them wore the number seven because he claimed it was lucky. He stole the puck at the center line and streaked toward the goal with two much slower defenders in pursuit. He faked left, shot right and missed the goal entirely.

He swore, loud enough that Rayna heard from off the ice.

“Showing off for your girl doesn’t count unless you finish, Trey,” one of his teammates yelled.

Trey ignored him and narrowly lost out to an opposing player as they both chased down the puck.

Trey Farina’s girl.

Rayna supposed that was who she was. They’d been dating for about a year even though neither she nor Trey had ever discussed where their relationship was headed. They hadn’t agreed to be exclusive, either. They just were.

Rayna shivered. She hugged herself, not sure whether her tremble was from the cold or from what she had to tell Trey. Rayna had only found out herself that morning, a few minutes before her absentee sister woke up. The revelation had consumed Rayna so that she’d barely been able to perform her duties at the dentist’s office today.

In an alternate universe, she would have confided in Krista. An alternate universe where her sister was a friend rather than a stranger she hadn’t seen in eight years.

“Rayna, over here.” A petite woman in her twenties with a mass of curly red hair motioned to Rayna from mostly empty silver bleachers. Her name was Mimi. She moved over, patting the metal surface beside her.

“Trey’s having a good game,” Mimi told Rayna as she sat down. “He scored one of the goals and assisted on the other.”

“How about Bob?” Rayna asked, referring to the woman’s husband.

Mimi laughed. “Scoreless, the same as always. What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were too busy at the dentist’s office to come to the games.”

Rayna wouldn’t be here today, either, if she didn’t need to get Trey alone, a nearly impossible feat. He lived in a house with three other guys, one of whom was always around.

“The office closed early today,” Rayna said. “I stopped by to remind Trey he’s supposed to come Christmas caroling tonight with my family.”

“Smart girl,” Mimi said. “There’s already talk of going drinking after the game. You’ve got to keep your guy in check. That’s why I’m here.”

A tremendous shout erupted from the ice. Arms up-raised, Trey stood in front of the net and a sprawling goalie. The referee signaled a good goal with a tomahawk chop of his arm. Trey’s teammates on the ice mobbed him with hugs.

“Applaud,” Mimi told her. “That way Trey will think you saw him score the winning goal.”

Less than a minute remained in the game. The trailing team pulled its goalie to get an extra skater on the ice, but this was low-level ice hockey. The offensive players weren’t skilled enough to keep control of the puck. The buzzer sounded, signaling the end of the game.

Trey let out a victory whoop. He skated past Rayna, stick raised in the air. She smiled and gave him a thumbs-up. While Trey went through the postgame handshake line, Rayna walked to the spot where the players came off the ice.

Trey finished shaking hands with the opposing team members first and skated full tilt toward her, executing a hockey stop before he reached the exit. Ice shards sprayed in the air.

“Woooo-hoooo!” he cried.

He stepped onto the threadbare carpet. Trey wasn’t the best-looking man Rayna had ever dated, but his looks were compelling. Thick brown hair, blue eyes that danced with excitement, well-shaped lips that were almost always smiling.