The Christmas Wedding Swap. Allyson Charles
“Colt, this is Luke Hammer, the new cook here. Luke, this is my fiancé, Colt.”
The men shook hands and sized each other up.
Sadie glanced down at her list, clicking the button at the top of her pen. “We were just discussing the food—”
“I heard.” Colt leaned over her shoulder, picked up one of Sadie’s fries, and dragged it through a pool of ketchup. “I thought we were going to let Allison handle that. We both agreed that whatever she made would be wonderful, and it would be one less worry for us.”
“Yes, but—”
“No buts.” He looked at Allison. “Do you have any problems you need us to step in for?”
“Nope,” she said with a sidelong glance at Luke. “I got it all covered. It will be delicious.”
Colt threw some bills on the counter. “So, instead of adding an item to your list that’s already handled, let’s just say, ‘Thank you, Allison,’ and go taste some cake.”
Sadie huffed. “Fine.” She began gathering her things. “Thanks, Allison. We really do appreciate it. Whatever you choose will be great.”
Allison shooed them off. “See you guys later. Make sure to try the white chocolate raspberry cake. It’s awesome.”
The two stood just inside the door as Colt wrapped Sadie’s scarf more snuggly around her neck, Sadie poking him once in the stomach before rolling onto her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. With a burst of cold air, they were gone.
Allison swallowed, trying to clear away the thickness in the back of her throat. She was happy for her friend. She was. But she couldn’t help but think it a little unfair. Sadie had shown up in Pineville and found the man of her dreams within twenty-four hours. Allison had lived here her whole life, and the closest she’d come to finding the man of her dreams was her date with the local butcher last year. He’d taken her ice skating on the pond behind his house. She’d tripped over a fallen branch, hit her head, and been knocked unconscious.
The night had been a nightmare. And the butcher hadn’t called for a second date.
Luke stood, stretching his hands above his head and exposing a strip of bronzed skin between his shirt and the waistband of his jeans. “Cute couple.” He picked up his coffee mug and strolled around the counter. “You’re doing an awful lot of work for a friend’s wedding.”
“That’s what you do for friends,” she said. Luke’s arm brushed her as he walked past, the scent of something sweet and spicy, like cocoa and cardamom, teasing her nose. She licked her bottom lip. “Besides, Colt was about to drag her to Vegas when he found another list of his duties taped to the visor of his truck. I had to step in to save the wedding.”
He leaned against the counter, barely a foot of space between them. Taking a sip of coffee, he gazed at her over the rim of his mug. “Vegas sounds pretty good to me. Would that have been so bad?”
“Not bad.” She cleared her throat. “Not if that’s what they both wanted. But there’s something to be said for a traditional ceremony and reception.”
Luke bussed Sadie’s plate. Taking the towel from Allison’s hand, he wiped the crumbs from Sadie’s meal off the counter. “And you’re big on tradition.”
She couldn’t help it. She laughed, and not the pretty, tinkling kind. This was a deep belly laugh, with a few snorts thrown in for good measure. Wiping her eyes, she stepped past Luke. “You would be the only one to think so. I just spent the morning having my family point out just how untraditional my choices are.” She asked over her shoulder, “Can you follow me? We have some housekeeping.”
Opening the door to her office, she stepped over a box of artificial sweeteners and scooted around the small desk. Luke peered into the closet-sized space, his raised eyebrow telling her he wasn’t impressed.
“I have a home office for most of the paperwork,” she muttered before bouncing down on the exercise ball she used as a chair. “Now”—she pulled a folder from the corner of the desk—“I have some questions on these forms you filled out.” She looked down at the W-9 form. “Your handwriting really stinks. I didn’t even know your last name was Hammer until Sadie introduced you to Colt. It looks like you wrote Hamish?” She squinted and turned her head. “Hamster?”
“Yeah.” He blinked rapidly. “Sorry about that. I can try to clean it up for you.”
When he moved forward, she waved him off. “I’ll do it.” She scribbled in the information. “You left the social security number blank and gave the address of your rent-a-cabin on Third.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Luke sent her an aw-shucks grin. The nerve endings in her breasts tingled. But Allison wouldn’t let herself succumb to his charm like all the other saps in The Pantry.
“I’m moving around a lot right now,” he said. “And since this is just a temporary thing until you can find other help, I was hoping”—here his smile really lit up, and Allison knew she wasn’t going to like what he said next—“that we wouldn’t have to worry about the payroll forms. You know, just pay me cash, like you would a contractor.”
“You mean under the table.” Rolling her hips on the ball to loosen her lower back, she stared at him unblinking.
“Uh…yeah. That would be optimal.”
“Let’s cut the bullshit. Do you owe child support? Have a tax lien against you?” Although she could have sympathy for back taxes, she wouldn’t tolerate a delinquent dad. She’d work through the night shorthanded rather than put up with that crap.
“Jesus, no.” He placed his palms on her desk. The cuffs of his Henley were rolled, and the tendons of his forearms bulged. “What kind of man do you think I am?”
She swallowed. Indignation vibrated off him. “I don’t know what kind of man you are. I’ve known you for all of a week.”
“A week and a couple days.” One edge of Luke’s mouth curled up. “You forgot about our introduction on the sidewalk.”
Allison’s face heated. She wished she could forget about that. “Just because you helped me pick up some Jordan almonds doesn’t mean you’re a saint.”
“I may not be a saint, but if I had a kid, I would damn well take care of him.” His nostrils flared, bringing attention to the small bump on the bridge of his nose, the only imperfection in an otherwise flawless face. “Or her.”
Allison sighed. “I believe you.” Rolling the ball back an inch, she rested her shoulders on the wall, the only distance she could gain. Being close to him, smelling his spicy scent, did funny things to her head. “And I’m desperate, as you well know.” She pointed at him with a pen. “For now, I’ll pay you cash at the end of each week. If you stay longer than a month, I’ll need to put you on the payroll.”
“Fair enough.” The tiny muscles at the edges of his eyelids softened. Straightening, Luke crossed his arms over his chest, framing the impressive pecs molded by his soft Henley. “So I have a month in Pineville. How about a truce?”
Allison considered. It hadn’t been Luke’s fault that she’d looked like an idiot at their first meeting. And a month was a long time to snipe with someone in the kitchen. Tentatively, she stretched her arm across the desk. “Truce.”
His big hand enveloped hers. He brushed her thumb with his own. “Great. As the new man in town, I’m going to need some advice on what there is to do. Maybe a guided tour?”
Allison pressed her lips into a firm line, ignoring the flutters in her belly. “That offer expired the first time you said no to it.”
“I didn’t think I’d be in town long enough to enjoy all Pineville had to offer that day we met.” Luke pulled on her hand, slowly reeling her closer.
Just because she was burying the hatchet didn’t