A Lot Like Christmas

“If that’s true, get out there and find someone else. Fall in love, get married, get yourself a picket fence.”

Fletcher regarded him steadily. “You first, big brother.”

“You’re hopeless.”

“Right back at you. And I date plenty. Not by your standards, but who could keep up that pace?”

“My reputation far exceeds my deeds, trust me.”

“Whatever. Anyway, I’ve got work to do here.”

“So do I. I’m heading out to Home at Last.”

“Watch the photo radar with my car. It’s easy to speed with that much horsepower. They’ll mail the ticket to me.”

“If they do, I’ll pay for it.”

“Oh, you bet you will.” Chase was glad to see the edge back in his brother’s attitude. He hated to think that money troubles and the General had him so beaten down.

“I’m impressed you bought a convertible, dawg. Pretty impractical for Arizona. Maybe there’s hope for you yet.”

“Say hello to Sylvie for me,” Fletcher said, ignoring the tease.

“Yeah?” Chase lifted a brow.

“We’re friends, Chase. I can send greetings to a friend. I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“Stop by the mall and say hi yourself. You’ll be impressed…with what she’s done with the mall, I mean.” He gave an exaggerated wink.

“Same old Chase.” Fletcher shook his head. “I’ll see you at supper. Nadia’s cooking your favorites as a welcome home.”

“My favorites? I didn’t know I had any.” Chase shrugged. “Tonight’s no good. Or tomorrow. I’ll ask her to push it forward.”

“You’re a busy guy.”

He was, but once he got in the car, Chase found his thoughts gravitating to Sylvie.

She was as sexy as ever, trim and curvy, with all that energy. Her hair had deepened from a light corn syrup to a dark honey, and her voice held more authority, but her eyes threw the same green sparks.

Her mouth was still built for sin, with a plump bottom lip and a dip in the top one that created a heart-shaped pillow he wanted to rest his mouth on for hours. Maybe days.

She smelled good, too. What was it? Fruit and spice? Cherry? Something edible anyway.

She had more self-confidence these days. She knew what she wanted. Like the mall job, for one.

How about in bed? Oh, yeah. He’d bet she knew exactly what she wanted in bed. Unlike that long-ago night.

Forget that night. It was old news and wrong even then.

Wrong because of the tequila, wrong because it was Sylvie’s first time, wrong because Chase never stuck around, wrong because Fletcher wanted her, too.

Growing up, she’d been like a little sister—big-eyed and eager, warm and sweet, quietly busy and always thinking.

If only he’d left that alone.

But it had been her twenty-first birthday and she’d been so sad when her mother didn’t show. He’d had to cheer her up. And if it hadn’t been for those damned peach margaritas she kept ordering he would have kept his hands to himself. He knew better. Hell, he was six years older.

Somehow, before he knew it those lips of hers were in kissing range and he was a goner. He just wanted to wrap her in his arms and make love to her all night.

He’d hurt her feelings when he stopped. But better she know he was a jerk up-front than find out later when he left, which he always did. Chase moved on.

Sylvie stuck around.

Hell, she was still at the mall.

As soon as he settled this crisis and got Home at Last off the ground, he’d be out of here. He could hardly wait.

Being home made him feel suffocated.

Tomorrow, he’d do his best to show Sylvie he wasn’t such a bad guy to work with. He’d keep the possible sale of the mall to himself until he had preliminary data and a sense of the real estate market. No point breaking her heart again if selling was out as an option.

Hell, maybe they’d enjoy working together.

He pictured her on that ladder, flailing around, flashing those lacy stockings at him. He’d have preferred bare legs…nothing between his hand and her soft skin….

A horn honked and he realized he’d slid lanes.

Down, boy.

He’d better keep himself in check around her. He doubted there was any danger from her side of the sexual fence. At the moment, Sylvie saw him as the enemy. And depending on what he decided in the next few weeks, she just might be right.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN SYLVIE STEPPED into the mall at seven-thirty the next morning, “Don’t Worry, Be Happy” filled the air with its cheerful advice. The words hit home.

That was exactly the attitude she would take today. Like she’d told Marshall, she would do what was best for the mall. And what was best for the mall was Sylvie in charge. All she had to do was prove that to Chase and she’d be home free.

Don’t worry, be happy.

Standing there, the feeling of home like a hot bath of Heaven Scent lavender salts, Sylvie surveyed her domain. Starlight Desert was small for an enclosed mall, just three hundred thousand square feet, floored in homey Saltillo, not glaring marble, the ceilings impressive, but not echo-cold.

In the center island, the banana trees, palms and bright flowers gleamed due to the careful care Betty’s crew gave them. As a teenager working maintenance, Sylvie used to pretend she was in a jungle when she watered and dusted them.

As she headed down the mall, a prickle of awareness made her look up to find Chase watching her from the second-floor landing to the office. She forced a smile and a wave, annoyed that her body automatically went all tight and warm and interested, despite the misery the man was causing her.

When she reached the top of the stairs, she smiled again, determined to stay cool and breezy, even though being near him made her tingle. “I wanted to apologize for any harshness I showed yesterday,” she said.

“I understand. You were shocked and hurt.”