“Are you seriously going to stand here and tell me this is all you’ve accomplished in almost two hours?”

Elise’s blood had reached a boil at this point, but she just took a deep breath and gestured to the row of nearly sixty fake Christmas trees that she had unpacked, fluffed out, and strung lights around. For two hours, it was a miracle she’d done this much. Penelope, however, looked unimpressed—although Elise was starting to think that was just her face.

“These are supposed to be decorated by the time the evening rush hits,” Penelope snapped, pointing down to the tubs of decorations by Elise’s feet with her pen. “Can I get an ETA on all this?”

Elise’s hand curled into a fist. “Soon?”

“It had better be.” Her manager gave her a quick once-over before stalking down the section and disappearing around the end of the aisle. It took every ounce of Elise’s restraint not to pick up those tubs of decorations and fling them across the store. Working retail during the holiday season was trying just about every last one of her nerves, and while there was nothing she wanted to do more than storm out, middle fingers up, in a blaze of glory and just quit, she couldn’t. Not yet.

What good would that do, anyway? Bennington’s employees were a dime a dozen. They’d hired at least thirty seasonal associates for the last two months, all of them interested in staying on once January hit. She knew for a fact there were dozens of candidates ready to take her job in a second if she quit. And where would that leave her? Jobless, scrambling, and dipping into her savings again. Still, she had been working like crazy these last two and a half weeks, and her savings account had seen a significant boost in the process. Maybe in a few months she could consider hunting for a better job elsewhere.

Huffing, she crouched down and sorted through the array of mishmashed Christmas decorations. The store used them every year: those slightly too broken to sell, the lone halves of a set that were missing their partners, the pieces that were no longer in season. Someone always had the unfortunate task of decorating all these trees, apparently, and customers could leave with whatever was hanging on the fake branches.

Since Elise was on Penelope’s forever shit-list, she had the joy of completing the task this year. When she had seen her name scheduled somewhere other than the toy department—seasonal and garden center—she’d nearly cried with joy. Oh, if only she’d known what fresh hell awaited her instead. Not only did she have to decorate a million trees by herself, but she was one of only two associates in the seasonal department for the duration of her shift—which meant everyone looking for decorations, trees, lights, lawn ornaments, the works, had to pester her about it.

Seriously. It was a miracle she’d done this much in two hours.

Kicking the storage tub foot-by-foot to the end of the row of trees, she grabbed an armful of ornaments and started power-decorating as best she could. Three minutes later, on to the next tree.

“How’s your finger doing?”

Elise dropped the red ball ornament she’d been holding at the sound of that voice, the one she’d been fantasizing about long after she first heard it, then braced for impact. Luckily the ornament was shatter-proof; it bounced, bounced, bounced, and rolled right into an almost too-polished dress shoe. Schooling her features—otherwise her smile might stretch clear off her face—Elise faced him with a smirk.

Good grief was he ever stunning. How did a man like him live in Fort Trent?

“Jack,” she said, watching as he scooped up the fallen ornament and held it out to her. “I was wondering when I’d see you again.”

“Nice to see you’re off the clock today,” he remarked. A bolt of electricity shot through her when their fingers grazed as she accepted the ornament, and she turned away quickly to hang it before he could see her blush.

“Pretty sure I’m always on the clock.”

“But not with the big guy today.”

“No, thank god.” How embarrassing had that whole ordeal been? She’d been making goo-goo eyes at him like a teenager mooning over a rock star and that little brat had seized the opportunity to take a chunk out of her finger. Elise held up her hand to answer Jack’s inquiry. No longer wrapped, it had needed a single stitch, which had already dissolved—at least it had gotten her out of work early that day, though Penelope had initially demanded she just take a painkiller and power through for four more hours. Luckily, another manager, one of the food and beverage guys, had caught wind of the conversation, and, horrified, told Elise to go see a doctor.

“Looking good,” Jack said, grinning. “I guess elves can’t turn their backs for a second.”

“They’re all savages when Santa visits.”

“Something’s in the air this time of year.”

“Yeah, I hear that.”

She bit in her lip in the silence that followed, with the two of them just watching each other, heat rising between them to the point Elise wanted to rip off her horrific vest. Well, she’d had the urge to do that from the second she put it on, but now it was for…slightly less appropriate reasons.

“So, did you get what you wanted?” she asked, and, when his eyebrows inched up slightly, she cleared her throat and pointed in the general direction of the toy department. “Your Miss Molly doll? For your daughter?”

“Ah, yes.” He too cleared his throat. “I mean, no, I didn’t. They’re sold out every time I come check.”

“Yeah, they’re flying off the shelves,” she agreed. Relief trickled through her; if he hadn’t bought the doll yet, he’d have to come back to Bennington’s. Since she basically lived here this month, they could have more moments like this. Still, she detected a whiff of disappointment in his tone, and for some reason she hated to see him suffer. “Why don’t I go check the back again? Maybe there will be one that was missed. Otherwise the next shipment comes in this Monday.”

Not that she had been paying extra attention to the Miss Molly stock schedule, or anything. Nor had she talked to her buddies in the back about hoarding blue-haired dolls. Not at all.

Leaving Jack in a sea of twinkling multicolored Christmas lights and fake trees loaded with pine-scented air fresheners, Elise raced through the store. She stuck to the farthest aisles along the walls, knowing it was the path of least resistance—customers seldom loitered there.

A quick check in the back—and—nothing.

She popped into the toy department, just to be sure Jack hadn’t missed anything, then almost did a tuck-and-roll ninja move to avoid being spotted by Penelope, who was in the process of lecturing Bettie, a woman twice her age, about how to properly match product to the PLU sticker. Bettie’s pinched look and pink cheeks suggested she wanted to punch Penelope in the mouth; must be a common sentiment.

By sheer luck alone, Elise managed to get back to the seasonal department without being heckled once. She came to an abrupt stop at the sight before her, a flush of warm affection flooding her system. Just like Jack had restocked fallen dolls the first time they met, Elise now walked in on him decorating the trees in her absence.

This guy was a keeper and she hadn’t even spent one full hour of her life with him.

Yeesh.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said as she approached. He’d decorated an entire tree in her absence. “Maya only wanted to decorate one tree this year, and Mom won that one. So…” He glanced at her quickly. “I’ve got a little extra ornament-hanging fire in me, I guess.”

“I don’t mind.” She bent over and grabbed a few stained-glass snowflakes—lookalikes made of plastic—and hung them. “I’m sorry your daughter didn’t want to decorate a tree with you.”

“She’s under the impression every family needs a tree,” he admitted, and to his credit, he sounded way more easygoing about it than Elise might have had she been in his shoes. “Santa needs one tree per family to put presents under. She thinks that if she has two, Santa will put her on the naughty list. So… One tree it is.”

Elise pursed her lips, knowing the conversation verged on potentially sensitive territory.

“Well, won’t she be surprised when Miss Molly shows up on Christmas morning, with or without a tree,” she offered, which earned her a little chuckle.

“That’s the game plan,” he said, hanging a bear with a Santa hat on a bottom branch. “Her mom does more family stuff at her place anyway. It was the right house to have a tree.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry.” He straightened up and swept a hand through his tousled dark locks. “Bit awkward to bring you into that kind of stuff. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not,” Elise told him quickly. “I mean. I don’t mind. I like talking to you.”

“Same.” He then flashed a smile that she swore she felt between her thighs. Elise quickly went for more decorations, and they finished that tree in an amicable silence.

When they were halfway through the next, she plucked up the courage to ask, “Do you two get along? I mean, you don’t have to answer that. I—”

“Like a house on fire,” he replied without missing a beat. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him twist one of the little lights to turn it back on. “We’re great friends now. We just weren’t very good at being married to each other.”

“Well, at least you guys had the decency to figure it out early in your daughter’s life.” Elise straightened a few fake branches she had missed during the initial unfurling with a sigh. “Some people are still figuring it out.”

And it fucked their kids right up. She’d seen it with her friends’ parents growing up, and now the cycle continued with couples her age. Divorce wasn’t easy by any means, and while Elise didn’t have personal experience with it, she had the sense to know that sometimes it was the right choice.

“What about you?”

She kept her gaze focused on what she was doing. “Me?”

“Yeah. Anyone special I should know about?”

There was no hiding the crimson flush this time, and she cleared her throat as Jack grinned brashly in her peripherals.

“There’s… I’m not seeing anyone,” she managed. “I basically live here. No one wants to date the girl married to her job. At least, not when the job is Bennington’s.”

Her tone had darkened as the words tumbled out, free and unchecked, and Elise shook her head.

“Never mind.” She flashed a half-hearted smile his way, wishing hers had the same effect on Jack that his did on her. “I’m just whining.”

“About the job?”

“About…” She released a soft huff. “About the job, yeah. I had a fantastic position in New York until about a year ago. They didn’t boost me from intern to junior associate, and living in New York is—”

“Expensive as hell?” he offered lightly. “Yeah, been there. I know the feeling.”

Given that he radiated wealth in every stitch of clothing he wore, Elise very much doubted that.

“So, I’m here,” she finished, yanking two entwined ornaments apart harder than she needed to. One of the strings snapped, and she tossed that one back in the box. “Working in retail over the holidays. After everything, I feel like Icarus.”

“You’re not Icarus,” Jack told her as they both stepped back to admire their recently completed tree. It was a bit of a mess. Too many ornaments, but Elise didn’t care. She cared about what he had to stay.

A shrill beeping cut him off just after he opened his mouth, and she watched him check his phone. When he glanced up, there was a fire in his eyes that took her by surprise.

“Icarus was a prideful idiot,” he said. “That’s the whole point of the story… flying too close to the sun, despite the warnings of other people. You were a victim of what’s pretty commonplace these days: working interns to the bone, then chucking them out when they dare ask to get paid for their services. Don’t compare yourself to Icarus.”

“I—”

“There’s nothing wrong with taking a beat between jobs,” he continued, facing her now with a slightly lifted brow. “Working here doesn’t diminish your accomplishments. Take a breather, then get back out there swinging when you’re ready. Nothing wrong with that.”

For once, Elise had absolutely nothing to say. All her self-deprecating nonsense—she couldn’t find a single syllable to retaliate with. So, she tucked her hair behind her ears, cheeks burning for a different reason, and tipped her head to one side, smiling shyly.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He looked up and down the aisle, grimacing. “I’m sure working here with people who see you as less than human can dampen your spirits, but cheer up…” Elise stiffened when he playfully tapped her under the chin and winked. “It’s almost Christmas.”

And with that, he was off, leaving her standing there, alone, surrounded by fake trees—and hopelessly smitten. Every inch of exposed skin was on fire, but that was nothing compared to the surge of white hot desire swirling within her. Elise took two steps after him, only to stop when Penelope appeared, as if by magic, at the end of the aisle.

Well, if she ever couldn’t find a cold shower, the sight of Penelope did the job just fine. The woman inspected a few of the decorated trees, then pointed at them with her pen, clipboard tucked under her arm.

“These look like crap. Do them again. And this time, follow the pictogram! I don’t make them for my health…”