Pamela Macaluso - Christmas Wedding

“No, I have a town house near the Yankee plant on the west side of Daytona Beach. Another in Tucson and an apartment in New York City.”

“Why Tucson and New York?”

“We have another plant in Tucson and our headquarters is in New York. I split my time over the three places.”

“Do you like all the traveling?”

“I don’t mind it.”

“That doesn’t mean you like it.”

He chuckled. “Quite the stickler for details, aren’t you, Ms. Bryant?”

She held her left hand up, wiggling her fingers. The diamonds on the “engagement” ring sparkled. “Holly,” she reminded him.

“As I said. A stickler for details.” He took hold of her hand, weaving their fingers together.

Holly’s first instinct was to pull away, but as he’d pointed out earlier, she needed to get over her reticence to touching him. They were supposedly engaged to be married, people would expect them to touch—would think it odd if they didn’t. Besides, it wasn’t like she’d never held hands with a guy before.

She had...but it had never felt like this!

Jesse’s hand was large and warm around hers. She was surprised by how much larger, since he was only four inches taller than her own five-nine.

“Now, where were we?” Jesse asked.

In paradise. The words popped so quickly into her mind, Holly was afraid for a moment that she would say them out loud. “I—I asked whether you liked all the traveling you did for work.”

He was quiet before answering. “At the moment, yes, I do. But sooner or later I think I’ll settle down in one spot.”

“When you get married and start a family?”

His brows pulled together and his eyes narrowed.

Holly had the feeling she’d wandered into territory he considered off limits and decided to change the subject. “So, where did you grow up? Lake Wyndham?”

“We came to Florida off and on during the winter months. The rest of the year, home was in Kentucky.”

“What about your favorite colors, books, movies, music, ice-cream flavors, pizza toppings?”

“My family wouldn’t know the answers to those questions. So, if the subjects should arise, make something up. They’ll never know the difference.”

“Make something up?”

“That or twist the conversation around and get them talking about themselves.”

“I get the feeling you don’t like your family very much.”

His grip on her hand tightened, as did the muscles along his jawline. Holly didn’t think he was aware of either.

“It’s none of your business how I feel about my family. You’re being paid to convince them you’re the love of my life and that’s it.”

He certainly didn’t look like a man in love, but Holly didn’t think he would appreciate her pointing it out. “I thought it might help if I knew a little more about the situation.”

“You know as much as you need to.”

“All right. But this information sharing was your idea. Now, if we’re done, why don’t you take me back to the shop?”

Jesse shrugged. They made the trip to the parking lot in silence. As they neared the Jeep, he let go of her hand to dig into his pocket for the keys.

It had begun to feel so natural, she’d forgotten they’d been holding hands.

On the drive back to the shop, Jesse said, “I hope the weather holds for our ride down. If it doesn’t, we’ll have to trailer the bike. I’ll let you know the day before.”

“We’re going to be riding down to Lake Wyndham on your motorcycle?”

“Yes, it’s only about a five-hour ride. Since you’re used to being on a bike, I didn’t think it would be a problem.”

“It’s not. Except how are we going to carry a week’s worth of clothes for each of us?”

“I’ll send the suitcases by courier the day before.”

“Now why didn’t I think of that?”

“You don’t make many long-distance trips on your bike, do you?”

“Dad and I rode up to Sturgis, South Dakota, one year for a motorcycle meet. I wore one set of clothes, carried a second set in my saddlebag and washed them every night.”

“I went to Sturgis one year.”

“On your Yankee?”

“It was before Yankee existed.” He glanced at her. “I used to ride a Harley-Davidson Fatboy.”

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