There, that is sort of an apology.
As his eyes trailed up her body, they paused at the green box under her arm. In alarm, his gaze bolted up to hers. “Did you not like what I had engraved?”
“No!” she rushed. “I mean, yes. It was beautiful and perfect.” January felt a sense of pride at being able to assure him that he had chosen well, and as his stiff body relaxed at her compliment, she felt her own body react. Except hers wanted to rip off the brown sweater and jeans the man was wearing.
“Then what brings you by?”
“I wanted to return the extra ornament you snuck inside.”
“January, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What extra ornament?”
“The snowflake. I mean, it’s lovely, but I can’t accept it, Deckard.”
His strong hand reached out, grasping her elbow and used his hold to steer her away from the children crowded around them. He was guiding her to the back corner of the tree display where they had met yesterday.
“I can assure you that I did not place a snowflake ornament in the package. And I’m the one that did the engraving, so no one else has touched that box.”
“You did the engraving? Wow.”
“Yes, with the help of a laser engraver. Now, focus. Can I see the ornament?”
Nodding her head, January opened the box and wrapped her fingers around the fragile piece. Slowly she brought it out of the box and let it rest on the palm of her hand.
“Wow,” Deckard replied in amazement as he took in the glass ornament and his large fingers reaching out to take it from her. January worried that he would break the delicate piece, but she should have realized that he would handle it with the utmost care. “This is magnificent. The glass is hollow on the inside and that’s what keeps it so light. Someone spent a lot of time to shape this. You can see here by the wisps along the edges that it was hand blown. But the glass itself is flawless.” She was in awe of him as he spoke of the snowflake as if it were a long lost treasure. January couldn’t tear her eyes away from him as he spoke.
His gaze traveled away from the snowflake and rested on her as he asked, “Where did you find this?”
“I didn’t,” she huffed. “That’s why I’m here. It was in the box with the star.”
“That can’t be. It just can’t. I packaged the entire thing myself, and believe me when I say, this piece was not in there.”
“I don’t understand,” January whispered in complete shock.
Deckard turned his head to glance around at the trees on display, the snowflake still held within his grasp. She could see that he was looking to see if the ornament happened to fit alongside any of the other decorations, but they could both tell that it didn’t belong on any of the trees. It was a piece of art that someone wouldn’t find precariously placed on a branch, it would need a place of purpose. And that place wasn’t in a general store.
“I guess I’ll just take it home and put it on my tree.”
“You could do that.”
She could feel his eyes boring into her as she lightly took the snowflake from him and dropped it in the box, trying her damndest to ignore the sizzle from touching his skin.
“So, now that you know I didn’t slip something so erroneous into your package, I suppose that you will let me escort you to dinner tonight?”
“No way,” she protested.
“Look, I don’t want to pressure you or anything. But it’s a free meal and I’m told that I’m fairly good company.”
“And how many women would say that?”
“My grandma? If you asked my ex-girlfriends, they would probably say differently.”
January tried to hide her smirk. He was handsome, and she knew that she felt an unnerving spark of attraction when he was close.
“Well. . . I suppose. . .”
“And you can tell me more about why you hate Christmas?” he probes.
“Fine. I guess I do owe it to you.”