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Merry Kisses: A Riverbend Romance Novella 5

By Valerie Comer

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CHAPTER 1

“Merry Christmas!” The young mom loaded big bags of toys into her buggy.

Sonya Simmons smiled back. “I hope your holidays are wonderful.” And that you can pay off your charge card soon. She turned to the next customer in the long line waiting to check out of Toy Treehouse. “Good afternoon. I hope you found everything you were looking for?”

The elderly woman nodded. “I have a little something for each of my great grandchildren right here.”

“That’s terrific.” Sonya slid the toys across the scanner and into a waiting bag. Why did everyone have to try to out-buy everyone else? Why was Christmas so commercial?

The woman paid and shifted the bag into the cart. “Thanks so much, dear. You have a merry Christmas, all right?”

“You, too.”

“Look what I found for my granddaughters!” The next customer held up two fashion dolls with princess gowns.

“Oh, they’ll love those sparkly dresses.” Sonya smiled at Mrs. Bryant from River of Life Church. “These are from you, not from Santa, right?”

“Yes.” The older woman sighed. “Santa has been curtailed in my grandchildren’s lives.”

Nice some families had the good sense to do that.

Mrs. Bryant tilted her head to one side. “I haven’t seen you in church lately.”

Of course she’d notice and comment. “I’ve been scheduled to work a lot of Sundays with Christmas coming on.” Oh no, she’d said the word. A furtive glance over her shoulder revealed Deborah four tills over bagging for Annie. “You can see how busy we are, and we aren’t even in full swing yet.”

Mrs. Bryant leaned closer. “Surely your boss would let you have some Sundays off if you asked. The store can’t be that busy of a Sunday morning.”

Sonya shook her head. “I’m not asking for favors. Is this everything for you today, then?”

The customer’s lips pursed as her eyes narrowed to a point beyond Sonya’s shoulder. She slid her debit card through the machine.

“Please don’t say anything to Deborah,” Sonya whispered, leaning across the counter. “I need this job.”

“As you wish. Merry Christmas, Sonya.”

Sonya patted the bag of dolls. “Merry Princesses.” Mrs. Bryant didn’t seem to notice.

She began scanning the next customer’s selections. “Did you find everything you were looking for?” Then she glanced up and caught her breath.

Tall, dark, and handsome was only a trite starter phrase. The man in front of her was all three, but so much more. Brown eyes twinkled above cheeks and a chin that had missed the razor for a few days. A jaunty Santa hat perched on his dark brown hair.

Why did he feel the need for a Santa hat? Why was Santa in everything to do with Christmas?

“For today.”

Sonya blinked. “Pardon me?”

The man’s grin widened. “You asked if I’d found everything.” He indicated the packages heaped on the conveyor belt. “I’ve got today’s list covered.”

She took in the mound. No single toy was expensive, but they were going to add up. What was it with people and their need to buy so much junk? And why couldn’t she have found a job less tied to the commercial aspect of Christmas? “Today’s list?” Oh, good grief. She sounded like an idiot echoing him.

“I checked it twice.”

“But...” Never mind. Scan the toys, Sonya. He’s just a cute guy. You’ve seen them before.

Men his age — around thirty, she’d guess — weren’t the most common customers in Toy Treehouse. The occasional few were usually accompanied by a young woman with a baby stroller.

Sonya scanned a talking doll followed by a 1500-piece puzzle followed by a baby rattle. Wait a minute. He was too young to have this many kids with such varied ages. She snuck him a furtive glance.

He grinned at her, eyes twinkling.

Conversation. She should make some. “Wow, you’ve got a big family.” She should also think for a few seconds before opening her mouth.

“That’s where the evidence seems to lead.”

Maybe he was a doting uncle with plenty of cash, but his Carhartt work jacket didn’t give that impression. She could head back into safe territory with a question like Do you think we’ll have snow before Christmas? but that would mean saying the C-word. Also, what did it matter what he thought? There’d either be snow, or there wouldn’t.

His jacket hung open, revealing a navy Henley-style shirt, untucked over faded jeans. He slid his card through the slot and glanced up, catching her watching him. A slow smile crossed his face, lighting up those eyes again, brown like hot cocoa. Except if her morning drink gleamed at her that way, she’d toss it in the sink. But his eyes? Different kind of sink. The kind where she might disappear and drown.

His grin widened.

Sonya ripped her gaze off him and handed over his receipt. “Thanks for shopping at Toy Treehouse.”

“I’ll be back.”

“Me, too.” Oh, Sonya. Dumb, dumb thing to say.

He chuckled. “Maybe I’ll see you again then.”

“Maybe.”

Sonya watched him push the cart toward the exit. Why did it feel like he meant something beyond him buying more trinkets for his children? A guy with that big a family shouldn’t be making the knees of toy store cashiers weak. He obviously already had as much on his plate as he could handle and, while she liked children as much as the next woman, she wasn’t going to take on someone else’s abandoned dozen. And then there was the Santa hat.

“Miss? I’m in a hurry here.”

Sonya swung to the next customer in line as heat shot up her cheeks. “Sorry.”

* * *

Heath Collins couldn’t resist. He loitered in the wide corridor of Riverbend Mall outside Toy Treehouse, watching for a certain cashier. She hadn’t been here yesterday or the day before, but now she was in sight, smiling at a customer. She turned away, her long brown braid swinging over her shoulder. His heart beat faster. She was so attractive even in that crazy green uniform with a giant giraffe design curving over her right shoulder.

He fingered the list for a party at one of the town daycares. The staff member who’d been in charge had called in sick, and they’d been happy to turn the list over to him. If he timed this right, he’d be at till #5 just before closing — his best chance at trying for some small talk and trying to get to know her a little.

Couldn’t hurt to make an effort, right? He hadn’t been able to get her off his mind since he’d been in a few days ago.

Sonya. That’s what her badge said, smack on the horns of the giraffe. No trouble remembering her pretty name, or the fact she wore no rings.

Heath pushed a cart to the section of the store where action figures climbed both sides of the aisle. Left to his own devices, he’d have gone down to Chapters, the big bookstore just down the mall, and bought books for all the kids. But then he wouldn’t have seen Sonya again, so maybe action figures were good, after all.

Consulting the list, he loaded the requested toys into the cart then angled toward his target. A large woman scooted a mounded buggy in front of him.

Heath groaned. Two other lines were open, each with only a few shoppers. It would look stupid to stand at Sonya’s till, but she’d been the reason he’d come. Now what?

“Samantha can take you at number four.” The manager rested her hand on Heath’s arm and pointed out the obvious. “Almost closing time.”

Sonya looked up from the toy she was scanning and her eyes widened slightly as they met Heath’s. She glanced at his cart and her eyebrows pulled together.

Heath grinned. At least she’d remembered him. Making a scene wouldn’t help, so he turned his cart into the shorter queue. A few minutes later his purchases were bagged. “Merry Christmas,” he said to Samantha.

“Happy holidays,” she replied.

He glanced at the manager, who hovered nearby, and read her nametag. “Merry Christmas to you, too. Deborah.”

The woman’s smile seemed frozen in place. “Season’s greetings.”

Okay, so... store policy? Whatever. Heath pocketed his wallet and pushed his cart toward the exit as Sonya bagged the last of the large order.

“I’m so glad I was able to find prisms! The kids will love seeing the colors dancing around on sunny days,” the customer said. “Merry Christmas!”

Sonya smiled. “Merry Crystals.” Then her gaze caught on Heath’s and a little grin toyed with the corners of her mouth.

That did it. He was definitely following through. Heath edged his cart closer as the woman, waving, left the store. “Hi, I’m Heath Collins. I’m wondering if you’d like to catch a coffee when you’re off work?”

His timing was perfect. One of the other cashiers rolled displays in from the mall corridor while Deborah tugged the security grille across the wide gap.

Sonya’s eyes captured his for an instant then she looked down. “I, uh, don’t go out with married men.”

He held out both hands, tanned and rough from work, but no rings. “You’re safe with me.”

“Or single dads with a pile of kids.”

Heath could be tempted to keep teasing. “Still safe.”

Her brow furrowed. “But...”

“Shall we start this conversation again?” He was having way too much fun now. “Hi, my name is Santa Claus. Can I buy you a coffee?”

The smile slid off her face as she narrowed her gaze at him. “Santa?”

“That’s me.” He rested both hands on the counter between them. “Or you can call me Kris Kringle if you like. Or Saint Nick.”

“Seriously?”

Her reply wasn’t quite as warm as he’d hoped. “I’m not actually a saint, nor do I play one on TV.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Then where do you play one?”

Heath waved a hand. “Down the mall. At schools and daycares. At the old folks’ home. Nearly anywhere I’m asked.”

“You’re serious.”

“Sometimes.” Getting more so by the moment. “Now that we’ve established that I’m relatively safe, although not a saint, would you like to have a coffee?” He held his breath.

Sonya searched his face.

“Socialize on your own time, Sonya,” called the manager. “I don’t mean to rush you, sir, but it’s two minutes past closing, and we’re waiting on you. Unless there’s a problem with your receipt?”

Automatically Heath glanced at the long paper in his hand. “No, it’s all good.” He looked at Sonya, raising his eyebrows. “Tim Hortons has a street entrance. How long will closing up take?” Yeah, he knew he was pushing. Just a little.

“Fifteen minutes?”

His heart soared rather a lot, all things considered. He tried to hold back the exuberant smile. “See you there. Merry Christmas!”

She smiled back at him. “Merry kisses.” Then her eyes widened, and she clapped her hand over her mouth.

The manager whirled toward her. “What did you say?”

“Merry kisses,” Sonya mumbled, eyes downcast.

“Speak up. I can’t hear you.”

“Kisses!” Her chin thrust up as she narrowed her glittering eyes at Deborah. “I said merry kisses.”

The woman sniffed. “Yeah, right. To a man you don’t know? Haven’t we talked about how to respond to greetings? Please take your cash drawer to the office.” She turned to Heath, anger at Sonya obviously warring with her need to be polite to a customer.

“I was just leaving.” Heath pushed the buggy toward the small gap remaining in the security grille. Man, he hadn’t meant to get Sonya in trouble. Had she really said kisses instead of Christmas? That meant she was thinking of... well, he shouldn’t get too excited about her evasion tactic. It had backfired.
He paused, blocking the opening, and faced Deborah, who’d followed him to lock the store. “I’m sorry I distracted her. It was my fault, not hers.”

“She knows the rules.”

What could Heath say that wouldn’t get Sonya in even more hot water with her boss? Nothing he could be sure of. He nodded slowly and pushed the cart into the mall corridor. “She didn’t say Christmas, if that’s what you’re so upset about.”

“I heard what I heard.” The grille clanged shut behind him, and Deborah locked it.

“But I’ll say it. Merry Christmas.” It was the proper Santa Claus salutation at this time of year. He couldn’t help himself, but he could spare her the ho, ho, ho.

The woman on the other side of the grille raised one eyebrow then spun on her high heel and stalked away.


Good job, Saint Nick.

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