Christmas on 4th Street (Fool's Gold #12.5)

“I want to come work for you,” he said.

“That’s insane. You’re a doctor. This is retail. I sell Christmas stuff.”

“I know what you do. You need help and I need...”

She waited, confident this had to be a joke. When he didn’t speak, she shook her head. “I’m sure they would be thrilled to have you volunteer your services at the local hospital.”

“I need a break from that. You’re looking for someone to stock shelves and work the cash register. I can do that.”

“You’re injured.”

“Just my left hand. I’m right-handed.”

She put her hands on her hips. “What’s going on? Are you filming this for a YouTube video? Famous doctor punks innocent store owner? I’m not eating a live bug for you.”

“No live bugs.”

“Not a dead one, either.”

“Why can’t I apply for the job?”

“Because you’re grossly overqualified.” She touched his arm. “What is this about?” she asked again.

He drew in a breath and stared into her eyes. “I need to be doing something with my day. I’m stuck here for over a month and I have nothing to do. I can’t work in a hospital right now.” He opened his mouth, then closed it. “I can’t.”

Noelle hated to admit she didn’t know all that much about the wars her country had been fighting for over a decade. She saw what was on the news and those special reports on the magazine shows, but that was it. Her only firsthand knowledge came from what she’d learned from the men her friends had gotten involved with.

This past year a bodyguard school had opened in town. The principals were all highly trained former military people who had risked their lives to protect those at home. Isabel’s fiancé, Ford, had been a SEAL. Consuelo had served and done secret stuff, Gideon had been in the army, and so on.

She’d heard bits and pieces, knew there were ghosts and nightmares and the kind of damage that couldn’t always be seen. It made sense those helping the injured would suffer in their own way.

“I’m going to make a series of statements,” she said slowly. “I’d like you to respond to them.”

“Now you sound like Felicia.”

“I should be so lucky.” She drew in a breath. “You’re in town because of your hand and maybe what you do for a living. It’s something you need a break from.”

He nodded cautiously.

She hesitated, feeling her way through an emotional minefield. “You don’t see your family very much.”

Another nod.

“So being around them is intense. And parents are inherently complicated. Plus there’s the whole they don’t know Carter and what do they want from you.”

Nod.

“My amazingly charming store has a good emotional vibration and you feel comfortable here. Plus, you’re really excited about the gourd nativity. Did you know they’re made by a guy named Lars, a local farrier, who also trims Heidi’s goat’s hooves.”

His mouth curved up. “Now you’re making stuff up.”

“I’m not.” She paused. “You really want to stock my shelves and ring up my purchases?” Noelle had to press her lips together as she wondered why a perfectly normal question suddenly sounded incredibly dirty.

“It would be the highlight of my holiday season.”

“I can’t pay much more than minimum wage.”

“Not a problem.”

“Even though you don’t need this job, I have to be able to depend on you.”

“I promise not to go snowboarding without clearing it with you first. But the day after Christmas, I’m gone.”

“My busy season ends the day before Christmas, so we don’t seem to have a timing issue.” She hesitated, sure there was something she was missing. Only she couldn’t figure out what it was. The bottom line was she needed help and a responsible, attractive man was offering. She couldn’t think of a single reason to say no.

“Okay then. I guess you’re hired.”

Chapter 4

Noelle opened the store the next morning with an expected burst of anticipation and enthusiasm. Sadly, she knew the cause. In a perfect world, she would be able to fool herself for at least a few days. But she’d never been very good at convincing herself of anything that wasn’t true. She had always had a streak of realism that now reared its ugly head.

She had a thing for Gabriel. The handsome, wounded doctor pushed all her buttons. He was funny, nice, kind and elusive. Or in the feline vernacular—catnip.

She didn’t know why it had to be like that. Why couldn’t she be wildly attracted to some normal, local guy who’d been living here for fifteen generations and wanted to get married and have five kids? She supposed one of the reasons was that she hadn’t met anyone like that.