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For a few moments, silence fell.
“So, about that kiss last night.” His voice was low and serious. No more fart jokes.
Mary Paige swallowed and bade the butterflies to still in her stomach. She’d gotten up this morning, fixed a cup of tea, and found the headline of theTimes-PicayuneLiving section to be, well, interesting. “Playboy Gets into the Spirit” blazed above a picture of her arching backward in Brennan’s arms, the two of them lip-locked while wearing absurd elf hats. It had been alarming, thrilling, but mostly embarrassing.
Even worse, the reporter had insinuated the passion evidenced at the tree lighting was an indicator she and Brennan were falling into the spirit of love. She’d tried to call her mother to share all that had occurred last weekend before Freda saw the paper and flipped out for being out of the know, but she hadn’t been home.
Was it only last weekend? Seemed forever ago she’d bought that coffee and pair of Christmas socks.
“Mary Paige?”
“Huh?” She jerked around and found Brennan staring at her.
“Give the gentleman his peas.”
“Yeah, I like peas,” the man standing in front of her said.
“Sorry,” she said, giving him a big scoop. To heck with the small-scoop directives.
Mary Paige Gentry, pea-scooping rebel of 2022.
“So, about that kiss,” Brennan continued as though they hadn’t been interrupted. “The papers are making us out to be a couple, spinning this as some kind of romantic story nonsense.”
“Yeah, I read that. But we’ve already established this is business only.” Her gaze met his. His gray eyes were unfathomable, but for a moment she thought she glimpsed fleeting regret. Which was odd. Because the idea of him and her together was ludicrous. Outlandish.Not going to happen, pea-scooping rebel.
“Of course,” he said, nodding at the family of four who sloughed by, gazes averted, trying to blend in with the faded blue linoleum underfoot. “But if we protest, it will look worse. No benefit in correcting the misconception. If the general public wants to create smoke where there is no fire, they will. The upside is that innocent kiss has generated more interest in the Spirit of Christmas campaign. People are fascinated with you. The whole gauche, country-girl routine makes it even more delicious paired with—”
“The city’s most eligible bachelor?” she said, lifting an unsculpted country-girl-comes-to-town eyebrow.
He rested the spoon in the vat of beans and stretched. “If that’s what you want to call me.”
“So, you’re seeing dollar signs?”
“I seriously don’t understand your aversion to profit. You’re an accountant, for Christ’s sake. Y’all get boners when businesses are in the black.”
“I don’t think you have to bring the Lord into it.” She set down her own spoon since the line had dwindled to a few people seeking extra banana pudding. No one had come back for peas. “Or boners, for that matter.”
“What?”
“Besides, I don’t have an aversion to profit. At all. But I do dislike plucking the heart strings of the general buyer for pure profit. I dislike lying to her by creating a heartwarming illusion that will lure her into spending more money.”
“Good thing you didn’t go into marketing.” He sighed with disgust. “I’m not trying to trick anyone. I’m doing this for the company, for my grandfather and ultimately because it will get me what I desire. The more money we make, the more we can spare for places such as this since MBH Industries donates a huge percent of its profits to charities. That was in practice before my grandfather started having nut-ball ideas and giving all our family money away. We always did what was required even before you put ugly socks on him, and he launched this half-cracked Christmas cheer plot.”
“Required?”Mary Paige echoed, wondering if that was exactly how he felt. Required to be with her. Required to scoop beans. Required to write checks to those less fortunate.
He frowned. Or maybe it was a glower. She wasn’t sure because she’d been good at math, not vocabulary.
“Can we talk outside?” She jerked her head toward the open door. She’d rather argue with him in private since several of the people at the folding tables stared at them. Fortunately, the cold front that had spat sleet at them had moved on to the east leaving them with typical December weather, which meant it was fifty-seven degrees outside.
He inclined his head and followed her.
When they emerged into the ripe-smelling alley, she closed the door and spun on him. “What is your problem? Why do you hate Christmas so much? And why do you resent me?”
He blinked. “I don’t resent you.”
“You do. Your grandfather rewarded my kindness with yourfamilymoney and that irks the hell out of you.”
“Mary Paige, did you just use an obscenity?” He smirked at her like she amused him, and that made her even madder.
