Page 7 of Five Days of Christmas Spice

I need time to get my head together and decide what I want to do next.

“If you don’t want to eat with me, I’ll respect your privacy, but I have a car picking me up, and you’re welcome to ride along.”

He looks so earnest and hopeful that I can’t say no, and besides, it’s just dinner, right?

“I’ll take you up on it. I’d love to have dinner,” I say. “What’s your name?”

“Noel Brennon. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

Is he part of the Brennon Consortium? My stomach lurches, and my mind spins momentarily, wondering if this is a setup. Stella would tell me that I’ve watched too many murder-mystery movies. Hey, when you represent one of the most in-demand villain actors, it’s hard not to.

“Holly Burkholder.”

The plane landed with a bump. “Do you have a bag beside your carry-on?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll walk you to baggage claim to get it,” Noel says.

I blush and gently touch the teen’s shoulder next to me, giving myself an excuse not to answer Noel.

“We’ve landed.”

Her eyes blink open. “Thanks.”

Dinner with the person who wants to take Gran’s farm. I should have said no, but I don’t want to back out.

I want to go to dinner with a man who might appreciate me, and by how Noel’s gaze drank me in, I think dinner with him would fit that brief.

The plane taxi stops with a bump.

I dutifully grab my carry-on and wait for the rows before ours to empty. Noel steps beside me, and I blush again, following the line of people through the crowded airport.

I don’t know what good the contents of my bag will do me in Ontario’s snowy cold. I had packed for the sun, but I did what I could with the airport gift shops, and I’ll leave the bikinis and shorts packed.

“This way,” Noel points me in the opposite direction from where I was going.

The airport buzzes with excitement, and carols join the background music from somewhere further ahead.

At the baggage carousel, I wait impatiently.

Noel is beside me, not saying anything. I take a moment to stare at his strong jaw. He’s a full head or two taller than my five feet-ten.

My lavender suitcase spits out on the carousel, and I grab it. “Where to?”

“This way,” Noel reaches for my bag.

“That’s okay, I got it.”

“I insist.” Noel covers his hand over mine, and my pulse races.

I stare at his perfectly formed cupid’s bow, take in his muscled arms and my tummy flip-flops, strung tight with nerves. Maybe this isn’t a great idea. I had my run with controlling men before, and I don’t want to go back there.

That’s why Phil was good for me. He never controlled anything and let me lead.

“I’m only being a gentleman, Holly. If you’re uncomfortable with me touching your bag, it’s all yours,” Noel says.

He takes his hand away, and all I want to do is grab it back.

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