Page 33 of Christmas With The Kings
“I swear, you’re making this harder,” I muttered under my breath as the third mom group that passed gave me a wide berth and a nervous glance.
“I’m not doing anything,” he said calmly, though his eyes scanned the crowd like a sniper watching rooftops.
“Exactly.” I sighed, plastering on my best fake smile as I approached a group of teens. “Hey, would any of you be willing to sing a quick carol with me for a competition—?”
They blinked at me. One started to nod until his friend elbowed him and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “Dude, she’s got a bodyguard.”
They all quickly backed away.
I spun on Marcus. “I am not Beyoncé, you know. You can chill a little.”
“I’ve seen you dance. You’ve got her skill level, just saying.”
I groaned and rolled my eyes. Damn it.
Meanwhile, across the way but within earshot, Nik had gathered an actual crowd. A literal crowd. There were giggling girls circling him like he was handing out kisses under mistletoe. He flashed that damn dimple, leaned close to sing “Last Christmas,” and evenIfelt weak in the knees.
“Unfair,” I muttered. “His voice is so lyrical, he’s wearing a freaking cardigan, and he’s letting girls touch him. I’m out here with a mafia shadow and boots that jingle when I walk.”
“You look great,” Marcus offered helpfully.
I sighed and waved down a father with a stroller. “Hi! Do you like ‘Silent Night’?”
Marcus, for once, stayed far enough back. Probably felt sorry for me, and this person had a kid, so that probably helped. I needed to get my ass in gearif I was going to win this thing. The next two people I approached looked at me like I was in need of a psych ward. My resolve started to crumble.
And right when I was about to call it quits and accept defeat, I spotted them—two well-dressed men near the holiday gift display arguing animatedly over what to get for ‘the woman who has everything’.
Bingo.
I smoothed my skirt, fluffed my hair, and flashed my most innocent smile as I strutted over, in all my jingle-jangle glory. Sugar and spice—naughty and nice. Marcus shifted behind me with a warning sigh. Too bad. I was on a mission.
“Excuse me,” I said sweetly, interrupting their debate about whether a cashmere robe was too personal or not personal enough. “I couldn’t help overhearing…you two seem like you could use a woman’s perspective.”
Both heads turned toward me at once. Oh, they were cute. One had the kind of nerdy glasses I could see myself stealing. The other had a jawline so sharp I was pretty sure he could give Henry Cavill a run for his money. They blinked. Then smiled.
“What a coincidence,” Glasses said. “We were just saying we wish we could ask someone.”
“Well, lucky for you, I happen to be an expert in both gift recommendationsandChristmas carols,” I said, batting my lashes. “How do you feel about singing ‘Deck the Halls’ with me?”
“Wait—what?” Jawline asked, amused.
“It’s for a competition,” I added, giving them thebig eyes. “You’d be helping a girl in need and spreading cheer. I’d owe you one.”
“Like…sing right here? In the mall?” Glasses asked, a little stunned.
“Right here, right now,” I said, already pulling out my phone. “And don’t worry, I’ll take the lead. All you have to do is smile and follow my jingle bell-loving cues.”
Jawline shrugged. “Screw it. Let’s do it.”
I lit up. “Yesss! You two are officially on the nice list.”
We started the song, and honestly? They were kind of great. Not in a “should tour with Mariah” way, but in a “college a cappella group” way.And me? I was thriving. I shimmied as if my shoulders were on fire. I might have even added a dramatic flair to the “Fa la la la la, la la la la” parts for effect.
Then Jawline leaned in a little too close. “So, uh…what’s your name? Maybe we could grab cocoa when you’re done winning this competition?”
Before I could answer, a shadow loomed behind him, cutting off the lights like a solar eclipse. Marcus stepped in between us, placing one large hand on his shoulder with the kind of calm menace that saidThis man has definitely used zip ties outside of their intended purpose.
“She’s taken,” he said coolly. “And unless you want to be run over by a reindeer, I suggest you back up. Two candy cane lengths. Minimum.”
