to call her mom away from work or incur a tow bill. He’d had to promise that he’d fix the tire before she got out of the rain and into his car.
“Anyone who’s a resident can enter the contest. And I plan to win. How I do it is up to me, isn’t it?” she returned with a smile so sweet it set off warning bells in his brain.
“What are you up to?”
“I’m just wondering if you’re game for a little bet?”
Intrigued, he tossed the file back in the toolbox and sunk his hands into his pockets, watching her carefully while she inspected the props, not looking at him. “What’s the wager?”
“I bet my display will beat yours in the contest.”
Declan laughed. “Yeah? And the stakes?”
She turned and met his eyes. “When I win, you tell the truth about us. And you do it in front of the whole town when they announce the winner of the decorating contest.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
MARI bit her lip as she looked away, scrutinizing Declan out of the corner of her eye while she tried to pretend she wasn’t anxious about his answer. She was also pretending she wasn’t checking out his package.
“And when I win?” he asked, his head tilted to one side so a lock of hair fell over his brow.
“What do you want?” she asked, shrugging like she didn’t care. She glanced at his hair again, her fingers twitching to touch the silken strands … among other things. “How about free haircuts for an entire year.”
“I doubt I’ll be here that long.”
“You’re not living in Ponder Hill?” Why had she thought he was? Mari frowned, noticing for the first time the Georgia plates on his truck.
“Nope. Which means my stakes should be a little more interesting. Especially since the contest competition is fierce this year. Are you sure you’re up for it?”
She’d decorated the salon she worked at for every holiday. And while she might not have much talent with a hammer, she was hell-on-wheels when it came to a hot-glue gun. She remembered the various displays from her childhood and gave a sharp nod.
“Of course I’m sure. But if you need any help, you just give me a holler.” She offered him her sassiest smile and pointed to her mother’s house. “I won’t be far.”
“Living with Mommy?” he teased.
“Just until I find an apartment.” She arched her brow toward the Coles’ ranch house and asked, “You bunking with your relatives?”
“Nah. They don’t need a third wheel. Besides, the girls are all coming home for the holidays, so the house will be full up.”
Mari thought of Declan’s three cousins. All gorgeous, all talented, all clever. She and Rita Mae had hung out once in a while, but Alison and Layla had been a couple years ahead of her.
“So where are you living?” she asked.
“At the old man’s place. It’s been empty for a few months and it’s a dump, but I plan to flip it.” His words were short, his tone closed.
She winced, remembering her mom mentioning Clayton Cole having cancer. He must not have made it. She’d have offered her sympathy, but she knew Declan didn’t want it.
Still, Mari’s heart melted a little. She’d always felt for Declan. Whereas so many people had whispered about what a wild child he was, she’d yearned to bring him home with her and hide him away in her bedroom where he’d be safe. Luckily, by the time she’d hit her teens and had grown brave enough to actually consider doing it, she’d also learned enough to know that if she brought Declan Cole into her bedroom, she’d be the one who wasn’t safe.
“So what about the bet?” she asked, doing them both a favor and changing the subject.
“The bet?” He met her gaze, the look in his green eyes so wicked she took an involuntary step back and wondered where she could find a chastity belt. “I’ll take the bet.”
“And your stakes?”
“You win, I give that speech you’re so desperate for.” After she nodded, he gave her a grin that almost melted her underwear. Then he continued, “And if I win, you make that rumor a reality.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
ALMOST finished with the music stage, Declan hammered the last LED star in place on the header then climbed down from his ladder. As he descended, his gaze slipped across the street, like it did every five minutes or so.
After accepting his bet with a hot look and a nervous nod, Mari had skedaddled across the street and he hadn’t seen her since. It was driving him nuts.
“Hey, there, Declan Cole,” said a sultry voice behind him. “Talk about a holiday treat. When’d you roll back into town?”
Declan sighed. He should have known the ghost of girlfriends past would show up sooner or later. He turned, raising a brow at the sight.
Sylvie Ford apparently didn’t realize it was winter. Coatless, her low-cut top was plastered over a set of boobs that she hadn’t been sporting when he’d had the pleasure back in the day. Tight jeans tucked into knee-high boots made him wonder if she had a whip hidden in her pants. Big red hair, sharp brown eyes and a smile that told him she’d be glad to let him sample anything he saw completed the familiar package.
Mari had been a thousand times sexier bundled in denim and those weird shoes.
“Sylvie,” he greeted cautiously.
“And you’re looking even better than ever,” Sylvie said,
stepping forward to press her double Ds against him. “I’m glad to see you again. We have a lot to catch up on.”
Not really. Declan just smiled and retreated, glancing past her at the other woman leaning against a beat-up old Toyota.
“Dec,” greeted the quiet brunette with a sheepish smile.
“Hey, Robin,” he said, not surprised to see the other woman was still in Sylvie’s shadow. “How’ve you been?”
Before Robin could answer, the redhead stepped between them again.
“I heard you were helping out your aunt and uncle with the contest this year,” Sylvie said, trailing one of her talons down his chest.
His body cooling rapidly now that he wasn’t working, Declan edged away from her questing fingers and grabbed his coat. Shrugging into the extra layer of protection—from more than the chill—he glanced at the almost finished display. Nothing like the houses he usually built, but it still filled him with a comfortable sort of pride.
“That’s right. My aunt and uncle have a great idea, they just needed a little of my woodworking expertise.”
“You’re wasting your time. My daddy always wins the holiday contest. You know that. He claims it’s because I dress up as an angel and wave at the judges.”
Declan grimaced. He remembered one year she’d shown him what she wore under that costume. He’d had a hell of a time getting those feathers out of his … stuff.
“This is a new year,” was all he said, though. “The Coles have got as much of a shot as anyone.”
“We’ll see,” Sylvie claimed with a friendly smile. “I just wanted to stop by and say hi. And to invite you to the party over at Mike’s Bar to kick off the season. I’ll save a seat for you, okay?”
He gave a noncommittal shrug, knowing he wouldn’t go. Mike’s had been his father’s favorite drinking hole. Declan didn’t want to see it any more than he wanted to see Sylvie naked again.
Nope, the only