Trouble With Christmas (9781455544066) Read online

  “Hey, what happened to freedom of the press? Never mind, I’ve got a great one right here. Perfect for the next edition of the Chronicle.”

  Madison frowned. Rick Dane was the owner of the Chronicle? That made no sense at all. Wouldn’t the man who’d initiated the resort deal be doing his best to kiss up to her? Not when you keep providing him with pictures guaranteed to boost his readership, she thought with a mental eye roll.

  A large, warm hand closed over Madison’s, hauling her from the pile of flailing arms and legs. Gage set her on her feet in front of him. She swayed, grabbing hold of his jacket, the leather cold beneath her fingers. Unlike the rest of him. Both the heat of his body and his clean outdoor scent enveloped her, causing a shiver of awareness to curl up her spine. No doubt about it, the man was seriously hot, and seriously ticked off, if the look he skewered her with was anything to go by.

  “This”—he jerked his chin at the women still on the floor—“is your idea of low profile?”

  His deputy offered Sophia and Autumn a hand up, while the other two women appeared to be waiting for Gage to help them off the floor. Either he didn’t hear them calling out to him or was too annoyed with Madison to care, because right now all that testosterone-laden attention was focused solely on her.

  “No way, you’re not blaming me for this. It’s not my fault. It’s theirs.” She pointed at Hailey and Brandi, who probably figured Gage was too busy giving her hell to lend them a hand and were finally pulling each other to their feet.

  “Right. I forgot. It’s never your fault.” His hand at her waist tightened, his voice deceptively calm. “I can’t leave you alone for more than five minutes without you stirring up trouble.”

  “An hour, at least.” She hadn’t realized she’d moved closer until she felt his chest against hers, his thighs brushing hers.

  Someone cleared their throat. Someone chuckled. And a couple of someones… growled.

  Good Lord, what was she thinking? She wasn’t; her hormones were. Releasing her hold on Gage’s jacket, Madison gave his broad chest a grateful pat. “Thanks. I think I have my balance now.” As soon as she took a wobbly step back, the mean girls moved in.

  Hailey shoved her out of the way. Luckily for Madison, Sophia and Autumn each grabbed an arm. Winter-green eyes took a slow trip from the top of Madison’s head to the tip of her leather-shod feet before returning to Brandi and Hailey. “All right, quiet.” Gage’s command ended the women’s name calling.

  “Maddie did nothing. They were pushing, and yelling, and pushing, and—”

  Gage held up a hand to interrupt Sophia. “I think I got it. Thanks.”

  Hands on their hips, Brandi and Hailey angrily protested, trying once again to lay the blame on Madison.

  “That’s not… I didn’t…” Madison gave up. She didn’t know if Gage heard her or not, although every time she tried to add her two cents, and failed, the corner of his mouth twitched.

  Thankfully Sophia, who was louder than Madison and the other women combined, had her back. Only problem was, the more agitated Sophia became, the less you understood her.

  “Hey. Hello.” Madison waved her hands. “Since none of you are interested in my version of the event, I’m going to change now,” she said loudly, not that it did her any good. She took mincing steps to the fitting room, arms extended to keep her balance.

  She heard a low laugh and glanced over her shoulder, meeting Gage’s amused gaze. You’re trouble, he mouthed.

  No, Madison thought when she went all warm and gooey inside, I’m in trouble.

  * * *

  Gage rubbed the knotted muscles at the back of his neck, wondering what the hell had happened to his quiet and peaceful town. Then the answer walked out of the dressing room buried under a pile of clothes.

  At the sight of Madison’s practical black boots and conservative black pants, the knots in his shoulders released. It hadn’t been easy keeping his mind on the job with her pressed up against him looking like sex on a stick in that siren red dress, with her thick hair all messy and loose.

  She dumped the pile of clothes on the counter, blowing a strand of hair off her face. Gage decided she should wear it in a bun all the time, unless she was alone with him. Geezus, did I really just think that? He scrubbed a hand over his face. He needed to get a grip.

  Sophia told whoever she was on the phone with that she’d give them details later and hung up. “Good. You are taking everything,” she said to Madison.

  “Ah, no, I thought I’d…”

  Ten minutes later, they were still weeding their way through the clothes. Madison would demur, and Sophia would insist, and another item would end up on the to-buy pile. But when Sophia held up the dress and said, “Yes,” Gage said, “No.”

  The two women swivelled their heads to stare at him. He shrugged. “She’s not going to need a dress while she’s here.”

  Sophia waved him off. “She looked gorgeous. She’s going to wear that dress to the Penalty Box Friday night.”

  Over his dead body she was. “She’ll be back in New York by Friday.”

  Madison raised a brow. “Anxious to get rid of me, Sheriff?”

  While part of him—the stupid part—wanted to shout Hell no, the sane part wanted to yell a resounding Hell yes. But something in her eyes held him back. It was as if his reaction had hurt her feelings. “Hey, you’re the one who doesn’t want to be here. Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

  She averted her gaze from his. “No, of course I haven’t. Why would I?”

  Yeah, and that was what he wondered.

  In the end, the dress, along with the damn boots and half the clothes on the counter, ended up in four—yeah, four—pink Naughty and Nice bags. And naughty was exactly what Madison would look like kitted out in her new wardrobe. He should’ve taken her to Hardy’s, where the only thing remotely sexy was long thermal underwear, but on Madison it would be.

  “All right, let me have it,” she said, once she was settled in the Suburban with two boxes of chocolates on her lap.

  “Let you have what?” he asked as he backed out of the parking space.

  “The lecture. You know, the one where you tell me it’s all my fault that Brandi and her psycho friend attacked us and we ended up rolling around on the floor like every man’s fantasy.”

  He grinned. “I think you had too many clothes on to qualify for that. And no, I’m not holding you to blame for what went on, but—”

  “There’s always a but with you,” she muttered.

  “With you, there seems to be. Look, I read the two of them the riot act. They won’t be bothering you again.”

  “Is that all? If they’d pulled a stunt like that in New York, they would’ve been hauled off to jail and charged with assault.”

  “Yeah, and so would have you for nailing a kid with a snowball.”

  “It grazed his shoulder. Not like the one he drilled Annie with.”

  “I’ve dealt with him. Just like I’ve spent half the day dealing with the fallout over this. And don’t get me started on what I had to deal with yesterday, thanks to you.”

  “Well, excuse me for ruining your day. But for the record, yesterday is on Nell, not me.” She dug inside the Sugar and Spice box and pulled out a chocolate. “I hate small towns,” she said with feeling, then popped the candy in her mouth.

  “Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.” Aw, hell, he shouldn’t have let her comment get under his skin. If he wasn’t so damn tired, it wouldn’t have. He’d had the week from hell dealing with Annie after Sheena’s Thanksgiving no-show, and this week hadn’t been much better.

  “Sorry,” he apologized. “That was uncalled for.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it.” She turned to look out the window, but not before he saw a flicker of hurt in her eyes.

  Way to go, McBride.

  He felt like he’d kicked a puppy. Pulling into the grocery store parking lot, he turned off the engine. “Hey.” He cupped
her chin, drawing her gaze to his. “You just have to give them a chance to get to know you. Sophia and Autumn like you. Annie and Lily think you’re great. Even Nell likes you.”

  She angled her head. “You forgot to include yourself in that long list, Sheriff. Don’t you like me?”

  Oh, yeah, he liked her just fine. Probably more than was wise. And he was pretty sure his self-imposed celibacy played a part in the attraction. At least he hoped that was the case.

  She smiled, and he started to laugh.

  “What?”

  He tapped his front tooth. “You have chocolate on your teeth.”

  She ran the tip of her tongue over her pearly whites then bared them for his inspection. “Better?”

  He smiled. “You’re good to go. Come on.” He unbuckled his seat belt, anxious to get out of the close confines of the truck before he did something stupid like kiss that sweet mouth of hers. “Nell won’t be happy if we come back without her baking supplies.”

  “I saw a bakery back there.” She pointed down the road. “I’ll just go buy the gingerbread cookies from them. Nell shouldn’t be baking in her condition.”

  She looked so pleased with her solution that Gage almost didn’t have the heart to burst her bubble. Almost. He kind of got a kick out of watching how she reacted when things didn’t go exactly the way she wanted. “You’re kidding, right? Nell’s gingerbread is a big draw at the Christmas bazaar. She’s not going to let a little thing like a stress fracture and bursitis hold her back.”

  “Maybe you weren’t listening earlier, but Nell said I’ll be the one making the gingerbread, and I don’t know how to bake, at all.”

  “Sorry, but we’re big on tradition here in Christmas, and Nell’s gingerbread is tradition. You’ll just have to learn.”

  “Fine.” She shoved her door open. “How hard can it be to make a dozen cookies?”

  Gage waited until she met him at the front of the truck to drop the bomb. “Fifteen dozen.”

  She froze. “What?”

  “Fifteen dozen gingerbread men. Women, too.” He grinned at her horrified expression. “And in case you’re wondering, the Christmas bazaar is tomorrow. But cheer up. Nell’s a good teacher. Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to win over the citizens of Christmas with your baking.”

  Chapter Nine

  Madison’s gingerbread might not be winning over the citizens of Christmas, but from the leering looks the three older men at the nearby table were sending her way, the cranberry-wrap sweater she’d bought at Sophia’s was.

  At the sight of Nell crutching her way across the crowded church hall, Madison groaned. Nell had been scoping out the competition, and her expression didn’t bode well. “We’re in trouble,” the older woman said, slightly breathless upon reaching their table. “Word’s gotten out that my gingerbread isn’t up to snuff, and they’re buying my neighbor Stella’s instead.”

  “I warned you I didn’t know how to bake.” Madison held up a cookie to inspect it. “But I think they look pretty darn good.” After the hours she’d spent slaving away in the overheated, ginger-scented kitchen yesterday, Madison had developed a newfound respect for bakers and… Nell. She might be a cantankerous schemer, but the woman had a big heart and cared deeply for her family and town. Madison thought about her own hometown, and she wondered if things would’ve turned out differently for her if someone like Nell had lived there. No, Nell probably would’ve run them out of town after her mother’s first affair.

  At that happy thought, Madison returned her attention to Nell, who waved off her earlier comment. “I’m always the first to sell out, and we have an hour to go. If we don’t start moving these cookies, Stella’s going to beat me.”

  “We wouldn’t want that to happen, now would we?”

  Nell appeared oblivious to Madison’s sarcasm. “Darn right we wouldn’t.” She glanced in the direction of the three leering men and grinned. “I’ll be right back.”

  There was a mischievous twinkle in the older woman’s eyes as she took off at a determined hop. “Nell… Nell, what are you up to?”

  She ignored her, stopping at the lady five tables down. Earlier on a break, grudgingly granted by Nell, Madison had purchased two gorgeous handmade quilts from the woman for Skye and Vivi. Madison’s insistence that she pay fair-market value, instead of the pittance the woman had asked for, put the quilt lady firmly in the I-like-Madison camp.

  A somewhat exclusive camp at the moment, Madison admitted, but with Nell no longer rousing the rabble, she hoped to grow beyond her current seven members by the end of the day. Lucky for her, Gage’s fan club wasn’t in attendance.

  Madison replaced the scowl that the thoughts of the women evoked with a smile for Lily, who skipped toward the table with three of her friends in tow. Since Annie refused to attend the bazaar, and Gage wasn’t comfortable leaving Annie alone, Nell volunteered to bring Lily so she didn’t miss out on the fun. And Madison had to admit that not only did the kids appear to be enjoying themselves, so did the adults.

  A lot of work had gone into making the hall festive. Santa competed with the Three Wise Men for space on the stark white walls with glittery gold garlands swagged above them. The attendees sat at tables covered in white linens, a poinsettia on each, devouring party sandwiches made by the one committee Madison thanked God Nell wasn’t on. Christmas music and holiday excitement filled the hall and would’ve been contagious if one were into that sort of thing—which, of course, Madison wasn’t.

  “Are you girls having fun?” she asked, as Lily and her friends approached the table.

  All four of them answered at the same time, telling her exactly how much fun they were having. As the chatter died down, one of Lily’s friends, who wore a big red bow in her dark hair, piped up, “Are you Lily’s daddy’s girlfriend?”

  Madison blinked in surprise. “No, Lily’s daddy and I are just friends.” From the disappointed dip of Lily’s shoulders, it wasn’t the answer the little girl had wanted to hear.

  “Lily said you were.” Red-bow Girl plopped her hands on her small hips and turned to Lily. “You lied.”

  Madison sighed. Young or old, girls were all the same. They’d turn on you in a heartbeat. Growing up, Madison had only two friends she could count on. But even they’d abandoned her after the fallout from the Christmas Eve accident.

  “Lily didn’t lie. I’m a girl, and I’m her daddy’s friend.” Madison smiled brightly, retrieving her purse from under the table. She pulled out two five-dollar bills, depositing one in the cash box.

  “There, you can each have a cookie, and Lily will buy you a cup of hot chocolate to go with it.”

  They looked at one another and wrinkled their noses. “It’s okay. We’ll just get the hot chocolate. Thanks.” Lily reached for the fiver.

  Madison held the bill above her head. “You have to take a cookie if you want the cash.” One way or another, Madison was getting rid of the gingerbread. She wasn’t about to let Nell blame her for their lackluster sales.

  “But Fred said he almost broke a tooth when he ate his.” Lily’s friends nodded in agreement.

  “That’s ’cause Fred wears dentures. They’re not as strong as real teeth.” Madison handed each of them a cookie. Surreptitiously, she tapped a gingerbread man against the table leg and decided Fred might have a point. “Dunk them in your hot chocolate first,” she added. The last thing she needed was to be blamed for a bunch of toothless eight-year olds.

  “I like your daddy’s girlfriend. She’s nice,” one of the girls said, as they started to walk away.

  “I like her too,” Lily said. “When they get married, I’m going to be the flower girl.”

  Madison closed her eyes on a groan. She needed to have a heart-to-heart with Lily. From what Nell said, Sheena McBride had no time for her daughters. Probably the reason the little girl was intent on finding a replacement. How the woman could abandon a man like Gage and daughters like Lily and Annie was beyond Madison.

  The thought
that Lily liked her enough to consider her stepmother material left Madison with a warm, fuzzy feeling. But she knew better than to encourage the little girl’s fantasy. The last thing Madison needed was for Gage to hear about it. Not that she hadn’t entertained a fantasy or two about the man, but none of them involved wedding bells.

  “Here you go.” Nell tossed an apron across the table at her.

  Madison caught the frilly white fabric and frowned. She held it out in front of her. Pink lips covered the apron, and pink letters exhorted the reader to “Kiss the Cook.” A sinking feeling, one she was becoming familiar with when it came to Nell, settled in the pit of Madison’s stomach.

  “Get a kiss with your cookie, boys. Come on, kisses and cookies. One dollar for a kiss and a cookie.” The woman sounded like a barker at a sideshow.

  “Here they come.” Nell made her way around the table. “Watch out for Bill,” she warned, tying the apron at Madison’s waist. “He’s third in line, and he might try to slip you the tongue.”

  “I’m going to strangle you,” Madison said through clenched teeth.

  Nell laughed. “Pucker up, girlie.”

  * * *

  Since they’d sold out and Stella hadn’t, Nell had been in a particularly cheerful mood as they left the bazaar. She seemed surprised that Madison wasn’t. Especially since, according to Nell, Madison had won over the male geriatric population of Christmas. Madison still wanted to strangle Nell for turning their table into a kissing booth, but the older woman was right. Joe would probably be thrilled with the progress she’d made today.

  With Ted and Fred coming to dinner, Nell insisted she be dropped off first—which worked out well for Madison. She didn’t want an audience when she had her chat with the little matchmaker bouncing in the back seat singing “Santa Claus Is Coming to Town” at the top of her lungs.

  Bless her heart.

  With the slushy condition of the roads, Madison decided to hold off the conversation until they were safely parked in Gage’s driveway. They traveled across town at a snail’s pace, and her shoulders dropped from around her ears when she finally turned onto Gage’s street. Gorgeous stone bungalows sat on heavily forested lots, with the mountains providing an impressive backdrop. As Madison had learned, the McBrides were one of Christmas’s founding families, and Gage and his brothers had inherited a good chunk of land.