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Grace watched, amused, as Tommy playfully suggested, "Maybe Jim has a crush on you."
Mrs. C blushed profusely, patting her hair. "I'm sure that's not it. Besides, what would that have to do with anything?"
"Maybe he got nervous. Plenty of guys get nervous around a girl they like."
Grace felt her own cheeks redden as his gaze slid to her and then away in the blink of an eye.
She'd imagined that, right?
"Well, I want to press charges," the woman said, stabbing her fists into her round hips with her chin lifted.
At this, Tommy choked out a short laugh. "For what?"
"Robbery."
Tommy tilted his head in response, and Grace watched in fascination, curious to see just how twisted this tale would get.
"Did he use a gun or a knife?" he asked in a flat tone.
"Uh— Wait, what?"
"If you were robbed, that means he used a weapon."
"Fine.Theft, then."
Grace could see Tommy's amusement beneath his patient expression, and it warmed her heart to watch him keep it at bay.
"All right," he allowed. "What did he steal?"
"Mytime." She said it like that should have been obvious, and Grace had to fight her own laugh.
"Right. Well, Mrs. C, leave it to me," Tommy promised, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "I'll question Jim, and I'll let you know how it goes."
"Thank you," she replied.
"Anytime. But if he steals a kiss under the mistletoe at the Gingerbread Ball, remember that I warned you, and don't come at me with another theft report."
Mrs. C muttered something under her breath, then stalked away without another word to Tommy.
But as for Grace? Well, that whole scene only served to make her attraction to him harder to shove down.
Annoyed, she turned away from the too-charming man and pressed a palm over her chest, trying to force her dumb heart to knock off the somersaults.
Unfortunately, it appeared that Tommy didn't plan to let her get away that easily.
"You a gingerbread fan?"
"Like, to eat?"
He nodded, picking up an ornament from a nearby shelf, examining the hand-painted design. It looked straight from a storybook, and a look of nostalgia crossed his handsome face.
"Not really, but something tells me the bakeries here would change my mind," she replied.
"We used to bake them with Nonna when we were kids." Tommy's eyes twinkled as he turned toward Grace. "Me and my sisters, that is. And we were little troublemakers, so I'm thinking about getting this for Sofia to remind her of the year she got us busted for trying to steal some before we decorated them."
"You, steal?" Grace reared back in mock horror. "You're a cop!"
"I wasn't back then," he countered, stealing her breath with his teasing smile. "Anyway, we tried to nab some while they were still warm from the oven. Nonna was watching her shows, so we thought we were in the clear. But then, right when we grabbed them, Sofia knocked over a jar of sprinkles. It was like a bomb filled with rainbow shrapnel went off."
