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  Stranded for Christmas

  By:

  Theresa Marguerite Hewitt

  Smashwords Edition License Note

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  This book contains mature content not suitable for those under the age of 18. Involves strong language and sexual situations.

  All parties portrayed in sexual situations are consenting adults and over the age of 18.

  All characters are fictional. Any similarities are purely coincidental.

  Published by Theresa Marguerite Hewitt at Smashwords.com

  Copyright ©2015 Theresa Marguerite Hewitt

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means without written permission from the author

  CHAPTER 1

  12/24/14

  Caroline

  Looking at the clock for probably the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, I see that its five minutes to six; almost closing time. Thank God! I’m ready to get the hell out of here.

  But, oh wait! I’m still responsible for locking up the register drawers in the safe and making sure all of the diamond jewelry is accounted for since I’m assistant manager. Working at this department store in this small Central New York store does have its discount perks, but damn what I wouldn’t give to have a business like 9-5 job. Letting out an extra-long, exaggerated sigh, I resign to be defeated in this world of retail during the holiday season.

  Four minutes to go and then I am free for three days. No day after Christmas for this girl. Nope! I decided after the hell that was Black Friday that I would use a personal day on the 26th and my boss let me have it without a fight.

  Ding. Ding.

  The oh-too-familiar sound of the door bells chimes and I don’t hold back the slight annoyance when I say, “We are almost closed,” as I turn to face someone that takes my breath away. The guy is standing on the other side of the counter, all six foot six of him, his light green eyes looking right into mine when I meet them but I have to look away, sneaking a peek at his very well defined torso under his open jacket and flannel shirt. He’s shaking off some snow from his shoulders and hat as he removes it, a smile breaking out on a perfect set of lips.

  “Sorry, but I just need a last minute gift.” His eyes immediately go to scanning the jewelry under the glass in front of me as I feel a very warm blush creeping onto my pale skin. God, talk about embarrassing, and when he looks up at me I turn away to try and keep him from noticing but its no use. The grin tells me he saw it and knows that he caused it.

  “Okay,” I say, ignoring the time and trying to get a sale. “Who are you shopping for? Wife? Girlfriend? And what kind of price point where you trying to keep it at?” I follow him as he makes his way past the engagement and wedding rings, stopping as he eyes up the pearls.

  “It’s for my mother.” He’s looking intently at a string of champagne pearls and I open the door and set them in front of him. He has good taste, and money by the look of the diamond encrusted Rolex that peeks out from under his leather jacket sleeve as he reaches for the boxed necklace.

  “Well these are very beautiful.” I add with a smile, watching him run his fingers over the necklace and look at the price tag.

  “Well they need to be, they are for a beautiful woman. But it’s even better and do you want to know why?” His question catches me off guard and I look up into those green eyes, watching them twinkle in the bright lights as the corner of his mouth perks up in another grin.

  Damn, he has some perfect lips. I catch myself thinking about what it would be like kiss them when he leans in, his palms flush to the counter. “No...” I say way more breathy than I wanted to, clearing my throat. “No, I don’t know, why is that?”

  “Because a beautiful lady is selling them to me.”

  CHAPTER 2

  Shane

  As soon as I walked up to the door and saw this smoking hot red head through the glass I knew that I wanted to ask her out, but on Christmas Eve? And I don’t even known if she is single, hell I still don’t, I’m just going on the fact that she isn’t wearing a ring, but a slap could be in my near future. I can see my words taking a split second to sink in before her face and neck blush a beautiful pink.

  That color does so much to me that its borderline wrong. I don’t even know this woman’s name and my jeans are getting tighter by the second, if she keeps smiling like that I’m going to have to run out of here bow legged to keep her from seeing my erection. This just cements all of my friends nagging that it has been way too long since I’ve been with a woman, but the way my last relationship ended it’s just not something I wanted to think about.

  After Vivian left me, I’ve focused on filling the last year with work, work, work and some time for my family. My mom and dad are getting older so it’s nice to spend some time with them, helping them around the house and helping my dad with his baby- a 1962 Corvette. They both say that I work too much, but being the VP in Operations of a large corporation dealing with overseas mergers and branching out here in the states I have been a very busy man.

  I hadn’t planned on shopping today; one-because of the snow, it’s coming down in buckets out there, and two-I thought I would have all of my gifts ready and wrapped by now but work has been crazy the last week and I had to stay in the office till four in the morning last night. So here I am trying to get the perfect gift for my mom and being entranced by this absolutely drop dead sexy sales woman.

  “Well….thank you,” she more whispers to herself and I can’t help but laugh. Modest and shy, not my typical type but somehow it’s hotter than hot to me right now. I wouldn’t mind wrapping my hand behind her head, entangling my fingers in that curly red hair and crushing her lips with mine, no doubt making the blush reach her toes.

  This overwhelming need to ask her what she’s doing tonight for dinner comes over me but just as I lean over and open my mouth to ask her, an overweight half bald man in ill-fitting faded suit pants comes around the counter. “We’re closed Caroline. Lock everything up!”

  “I will Mr. Torrance as soon as I’m done with this customer,” she smiles sweetly and the man’s gaze lingers a little too long on her, raking over her body, then falls on me. At once I recognize the longing and lust that his blood shot eyes hold for this beauty before me, and I see it fade as the brown irises’ finally settle on me, his stare squinting and his lips down turning in disgust.

  “Well make it quick, it’s snowing like crazy out there and they’re sayin’ they might call a travel ban soon.” She smiles and nods at him but as he walks past me I can hear the mumbled grumbles as he keeps a sideways glance on me, jingling his keys to no doubt get me to move faster so he can be alone with his employee. He reeks like cheap aftershave and sweat. Please don’t let this gorgeous thing be involved with that.

  “He seems….pleasant.” I joke, turning to her to spot a perfect smile break out, followed by a short little laugh.

  “Oh he’s just the embodiment of Christmas spirit,” she adds and I immediately love her sense of humor. Her blue eyes seems to dance as she looks at me and I find myself fidgeting slightly to try and get my jeans to hide my growing erection as best as I can. “But, have you made a decision?”

  “Yes.” I reply without moving my gaze from hers. Pushing the box of pearls across to meet her fingers I add, “I’ll take these…and you
, out for dinner, if you’re free?” It’s the boldest I’ve been in over a year but it just feels right. Her smile fades a tiny bit as I see her registering and then contemplating my question. She drops her eyes, taking the pearls to the register as I follow, and I’m feeling like a fool for being so brash.

  “Ah…well…” she stumbles over her words while punching the numbers into the computer. She bites her lip, making me go crazy inside and I have to stifle a growl of pure, intense, want. I don’t think she knows just how incredibly sexy she really is. She tucks a stray lock of her hair behind her ear and I spy a tiny smile growing on her lips as I take my wallet out. “I don’t even know your name.” she finally says, turning to look at me and I see the intrigue hiding behind the shy cloak in her demeanor.

  “Yeah, that would probably help,” I say, kicking myself mentally. “Shane Kelson.” I hand her my American Express Black Card and see her gaze run over it, her smile fading almost instantly. This confuses me. Most cashiers in a small department store like this would be ecstatic to see a credit card like that, but moving forward I ask, “And you are Caroline…?” Fishing for a last name.

  She turns away, sliding the card through the reader and handing it back without looking at me. “Caroline Buschor.” But it’s said without the giddiness like she had only seconds before and I’m at a loss. “I’m afraid I can’t go to dinner tonight, Mr. Kelson. I have plans.”

  Precise. Cold. And to the point. I’ve been shot down. I’ve never, ever, been shot down. Dumped, yes, but that was after a long engagement that was kept hanging because of my climb up the corporate ladder and long nights at the office. Shot down, no-never. I’m frozen as she slides a piece of paper across the glass for me to sign. I scribble on it and look up to see her holding the silver tissue paper stuffed little red and green gift bag out to me, giving me the ‘get out of here and away from me vibe’ like there is no tomorrow.

  Taking the bag I look at her blue eyes that are focused beyond me, telling me silently to leave. “Alright, maybe some other time?”

  “No, I don’t think so.” She rips the receipt paper from the printer and lays it on the counter. “Have a good holiday, Mr. Kelson.”

  “Thank you. You too,” I say, trying to give her a smile but she just turns her back to me and again I’m put off. What happened so quickly that turned her away from the idea of dinner with me? I can tell there is no getting through this right now and looking at the clock I see I’ve held the store up for ten minutes, so knowing I’ll have to let the lust and need running through me still run their course, I walk away.

  The bells ding over my head as the cold, snowy wind hits my face. I can barely see my BMW even though I parked as close as I could without being in a handicapped spot. Although being in there for only a little over ten minutes, my car is covered in at least 3 inches of snow and I run my arm over the curve of my door, hitting the button to unlock and climbing in. I know now that I should’ve left this one at home and taken my Jeep, but I had no idea the snow was going to be this bad.

  Starting her up, I try to pull forward. I only make it about ten feet when the tires start to spin in place. “Great,” I mumble to myself, putting it in reverse to try and make it out that way. I get maybe five feet from my original parking spot in reverse and get stuck again. “Alright, one more time.” Going forward, I get nowhere. Back again, I get nowhere.

  I’m stuck, in the middle of a baron parking lot, in the middle of a snow storm. “Fuck!” I yell at the steering wheel. To add to that, I remember just now that my heater isn’t working correctly. The car is less than two months old and the heater stopped working a couple of days ago. I did have an appointment to get it fixed but had missed it because I was elbow deep in paperwork and web conferences.

  So I can’t stay in here or I’ll get hypothermia. Looking up through the wipers going back and forth furiously on my windshield I see the fat, smelly, Mr. Torrance waddle in front of my car, his comb over blowing in the gusts of wind. That’s awesome, he’s just leaving his employee to fend for herself, what a great gentleman.

  Turning my car off, I hop out and lock it up, resigning to come back for her when the storm is over and I jog up to the stores door, now adorned with a CLOSED sign. I don’t know if she’ll answer, but I pound my hand on the glass, pulling the hood of my jacket up and over my head to try and fend off the crazy amount of snow and wind.

  Hearing a frustrated, “I’m coming! I’m coming!” yelled from the other side, I can’t help the smile that breaks out when I see her round the corner, her head down as she fumbles with some keys. When she sticks the key in the lock she finally looks up and I see the tears streaking her cheeks.

  In this moment I know, without a doubt, I’ll do anything to share this night with her. Even though she doesn’t smile now, I know she will later.

  CHAPTER 3

  Caroline

  “So what are you doing tonight, Caroline?” Mr. Torrance asks me as soon as Shane walks out the door. He’s right beside me as I pull the jewelry drawer out of the register to count it then lock it up. I can feel him watching, his gaze no doubt on my ass as it almost always is. Either there or my chest, but I try to ignore him.

  “I’m just going home to enjoy my night.” No big plans for me. I’m going to try to navigate this snow in my ratty old snow boots and walk the mile and a half to my rented cabin since my friend Darla dropped me off today. I may work at a successful department store but we are in a semi-rural area of Central New York, and my car decided to break down yesterday so I’ll be walking home by the light of my flashlight.

  “Well, why don’t you come have dinner with me?” Mr. Torrance asks, the scent of his cheap cologne making me want to gag. I look at his pudgy face and have to stifle a cruel laugh. The man is married but doesn’t miss an opportunity to hit on every single female employee that works here. Good thing his father started this store, his money has gotten him out of more than one sexual harassment lawsuit.

  “I don’t think so,” I try to say without sounding harsh. I spy his slight anger and disappointment and my eyes roll. How pathetic is this man. “Why don’t you stop and get some roses for your wife and take them home with you. I bet she’d like that.”

  “My old hag of a wife? Yeah, when hell freezes over.” His fat, sweaty fingers wrap around my wrist as I go to turn away with the cash drawer in my grasp and I jerk away from him. The change jumps in the tray at the force of my movement. “I’d much rather have dinner with a hot thing like you.”

  That’s it, I’m done with this shit. I slam the drawer down, the coins bouncing around again and some landing on the counter as my boss’s eyes go wide. “Listen here. Jack!” I don’t hide my disgust this time, its way past due for him to hear this. “Don’t ever touch me again. Don’t ever ask me out, or call me hot…ever again! And if you don’t want to have your name dragged through the mud publicly, because we both know people talk in this town but they just brush it under the rug because you’re a Torrance, then you’ll have your son take over for you and never set foot in this store again while me, or any other female employee for that matter, is working here alone. Got it?”

  I see the anger pass through his expression and the confusion in his eyes, but I’m not regretting what I just said. He stumbles over what to say in reply, his mouth hanging agape for a good thirty seconds while he stares at me. He angrily turns his key in the register to lock it, swipes his palm over his comb over and says, “Well, have a good Christmas.” With that he stalks away, grumbling under his breath.

  As I just stand there, watching him grab his coat and walk out the front door, I can’t believe I did that. My hands are shaking as I pick up the drawer again, heading back to the office in a daze. “Holy fuck,” I whisper to myself, not surprised by the tears filling my eyes. They are not in sadness but in anger. I’ve never been one to get angry like that but I was fed up. I’ve dealt with his passes and glances for all five years that I’ve worked here and they only got worse when I was pro
moted last year.

  Taking a deep breath, I’m shutting the safe door when I hear a loud pounding. I stop and listen, thinking maybe it’s just the wind but then it happens again. Making sure everything is locked and shutting off the light, I turn the corner towards the door fumbling with my keys when I see Shane standing out in the blowing snow. Great.

  Not that the man isn’t hot, because he’s smoking. I can tell he’s fit, his jacket and shirt underneath fitting him just snug enough to define his muscles, making my mind race in a million different directions and I trip over my own feet as I reach for the door, sticking the key in the deadbolt. The snow may be heavy but I can see a small smile break out on his face and it’s enough to make my knees shake.

  “If you haven’t noticed, we’re closed!” I yell over the whistling of the wind, flinching at the icy flakes hitting me in the face.

  “I know, I know,” he says shielding his eyes as they peer down at me, “but my car is stuck.” He points out into the white wall that is our parking lot and through the gusts and drifts I see a black BMW stationed crooked with the snow up over its tires.

  “And what would you like me to do about it?” I know the look on my face is one of absolute bitchiness and my mascara is probably streaked down my cheeks again by now but the grin that picks up one side of his almost too perfect lips just breaks down all of the frustration and anger from my confrontation with Mr. Torrance. Damn, if only he wasn’t too rich for me.

  “Well I was hoping I could stay in here where it’s warm till I can figure out what I’m going to do.” He finally steps through the door I’m still holding open, his chest at my eye level and his smell wafts around me. It’s like he’s casting a spell on my conscious and I close my eyes, taking a long, deep breath and savoring the very manly scent. After it feels like forever letting the smell turn me on beyond words, I look up to see him gazing down at me, his eyes roaming my face with a look of feral need I’ve only seen in a man’s eyes once before, years ago.