Beards and Holly (Magnolia Point)

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

Holly

M y head pounds from all the screaming kids and families hustling around the mall. The music that usually brings me so much joy is on my last nerve.

“Say cheese!” I say at the exact moment the kid on Santa’s lap decides to sneeze in the guy’s face.

“One more time to make the good list. Say cheese!”

I click the camera, and although the boy is smiling, Santa is not. Rushing over, I hand him a Kleenex and help the carrot-top kid off his lap.

“Thanks. I’ll also need some Emergen-C if I hope to survive the week without catching every known cold these goblins bring me,” Santa, aka Steve, says with a forlorn look on his face.

“Chin up, Santa. Here comes another one. Fake a smile for me, and I’ll run over to Starbucks and grab you a nice warm tea,” I tell him with a wink as a little girl jumps onto his lap, kneeing him in the stomach. I wince along with him but put on a smile and stand behind the camera. “Say Merry Christmas!”

She does and tells Santa Steve what she has on her wish list. When they’re done chatting, I help her down, and she rushes off to join her parents.

“Good news, St. Nick, that was our last kid for the night. Still want that tea?” I ask the clearly worn out older man.

“Tomorrow. Right now, I just want to get home to my dog,” he says.

“Okay. See you tomorrow.”

I clean up the mall’s makeshift North Pole and check the schedule to see what elves I have helping me. Tomorrow’s Saturday, and we’re sure to have a long line from open to close. Luckily, it looks like I’ll have two girls helping out.

After an already long week, I head home, excited to have the place to myself. As much as I miss my sister, Daphne, I’m over the moon happy she’s now married to the love of her life.

The neighborhood is quiet as I pull up. All my Christmas decor is out in full glory.

“Hey, there, Rudolf. What’s poppin’?” I say, passing the blowup sleigh of reindeer pulling Santa’s sleigh. It’s been up since November first, and on more than one occasion, I’ve been teased about my obsession with the holiday, but the heart wants what it wants, and it brings me joy.

Stepping onto the landing of my porch, I scream in surprise at the visitor waiting for me.

With my heart pounding in my throat, I stand frozen for what seems like hour, but in fact, it’s probably only seconds. Sitting on my dark green Merry Christmas doormat is a large dog with floppy ears and his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. After the initial shock wears off, I recognize the pooch as the grumpy neighbor’s dog. The man is undeniably handsome but clearly doesn’t want to meet me. The day I was decorating, I heard his loud music coming from his garage, but when he stepped out to see what I was doing, he scowled at me and shook his head. I waved to his back as he retreated inside his house, and I haven’t seen a glimpse of him since.

So to say I’m shocked to have this unexpected guest is an understatement.

“Hey, buddy. Are you looking for your door? You’re just a little off.” I point to his house, but instead of bolting home, the big guy trots over and jumps on me. “Oof.”

He’s so big his face reaches mine, and suddenly, I’m being smothered in big wet dog kisses. I can’t help the laughter that bellows out of me. It’s so loud it must reach next door, because I hear my neighbor yelling.

“Gizmo! No!” Jenson’s voice echoes across my porch, but still, the dog attacks me with his puppy slobber.

“I love you, too, man, but I have to breathe,” I say, trying to hold the giant dog up, but soon, his wiggles get the best of me, and I’m falling back down the steps. My foot misses, and I’m falling back with a scream of panic when large arms catch me.

It’s not as romantic as I would have thought. The bearded brute stands me right back up by my armpits with a heavy sigh. Clearly frustrated, he bends to grab the collar of his sweet dog.

“Dude, you are killin’ me,” he says, sounding tired. “I’m sorry about that. Glad you didn’t fall. We good?”

Dumbfounded, I stare, not knowing what to say.

“He’s just big and ornery. He didn’t mean any harm. He’d never hurt you.”

“Oh no. I didn’t feel threatened from the massive amounts of slobber he laid on me,” I say, trying to lighten the mood, but the grump doesn’t go for it.

“Well, have a good night.”

“I’m Holly, by the way. Gizmo is always welcome. I’ll bake some treats for his next visit. What are neighbors for?” Am I rambling? I should be embarrassed, but this man is so fine I’m lucky words are coming out of my mouth at all. His plaid shirt is Christmas green and red and stretched tight over impressive biceps. His dark hair is perfectly combed, and his matching beard is trimmed short, looking soft enough to touch. Or run across my inner thighs.

“No. Thanks. Don’t worry about it. We won’t bother you again.” His bark abruptly stops my inner fantasy.

Then he pulls the big, shaggy dog down my stairs and across our lawns without a single glance back.

Feeling an unwanted sting of rejection, I turn and unlock my front door. Inside, I kick off my shoes, replaying our encounter, and decide I’m being ridiculous. The last thing I need is a crush on my neighbor. It’s better this way.

Gizmo is possibly the cutest dog known to man, but his surly owner is only superficially attractive. I have to remind myself of this when I spot him taking out his trash. Then again when I crawl into bed.

Good looks do not make boyfriend material. No thanks. I have a dead-end job to get out of and career to build. There will be no more thoughts of the grumpy Jenson ever again.

Of course, I tell myself this, but my dreams paint a different picture. That night, I toss and turn, and what little dreams I have are haunted by a cute, shaggy dog and his smiling owner. A look I’ve never seen because the man doesn’t even like me, but apparently, my brain wants to form an unwanted attachment.