Welcome to the Cardinal Christmas Market, an exclusive holiday experience where the offerings are as unique and quirky as the people and town who run it.
Douglas is a first-time vendor, and he's determined to make a splash and grow from there. But then a mix-up means he has no choice but to share a booth with Boyd, one of Cardinal's own, and he can't help but feeling like his fresh start has a spoiled beginning.
Douglas and Boyd don’t like each other’s style... or one another. But in the ensuing weeks working the booth, with help from a little Cardinal Christmas Market magic, they find their art, world views, personalities, and passions are complementary—even compatible. Can they get past feeling like the coal in each other's stockings to a sweet happy ending, or are they destined to be holiday humbugs?
Douglas tinkered with forming an efficient traffic pattern through his booth with three narrow tables, covered them with lengths of different holiday-colored plaid fabric, and then he stood back to think about how to present his various displays.
“Oh, cool. I didn’t know we’d get assistants. Or help.”
An unpleasant itch moved like a stray hair against his neck. Douglas waited to see if more was forthcoming, or if it was said in passing to someone else and he happened to hear, but he sensed someone nearby wanting an answer.
“Are you meaning me?” he asked as he turned around.
READ MOREWhen he saw the guy, something way different and not the least unpleasant shivered over him. That voice belonged to a gorgeous pair of dark eyes framed by long, sooty lashes and a fringe of even darker hair swept under a charcoal-gray beanie. Those gorgeous eyes surveyed him and had to look up, because Douglas was taller than most people, and this was no exception. After a long pause they each managed a wary smile.
Douglas tried not to glower or stare.
“Did you say assistant?” he prompted after another silent minute.
The guy had compellingly sharp cheekbones and jawline over a perfectly knotted burgundy scarf—the only color showing—and sensitive-looking hands easily holding a clearly heavy box, and trim physique in a close-fitting puffy coat.
“Yes? For years the organizers have promised help for setup and teardown, so I just assumed….” The guy had enough good grace to sound mildly uncertain. “I’m sorry, maybe you’re in the wrong booth.” He set the box down on one of Douglas’s tables and smiled politely.
“I’m definitely not.” Douglas emphasized each word as his eyebrow arched in challenge. He got the vendor list and booth layout and held both up. “That’s me,” he said and stabbed at his name from behind. Next he poked at the spot on the map where they currently stood. “And this is booth twenty-five , so I’m exactly where I was assigned to be in a booth that I’m setting up for me.”
The guy’s brow furrowed, and he snapped the vendor list from Douglas’s fingers before Douglas could react. He scanned quickly and then looked up.
“Let me guess. Douglas?”
Douglas nodded.
The guy sighed and started to walk away, leaving his box on Douglas’s table.
Curiosity, some irritation, and not wanting to be cut out of his booth made Douglas chase after. They trudged from the back corner to a main corridor of booths, working their way to the main entrance.
“Hey, Killian!” the guy yelled as they passed a booth of indigenous art.
Beautiful art, and a much larger booth than Douglas had been assigned. He wished he could linger and look at every piece.
Killian—long white braid, long handsome face, long patient gaze—nodded almost imperceptibly.
“Have you seen Melba?”
“Problems already, Boyd?” Killian’s face cracked into a wide grin.
Boyd, Douglas repeated to himself. Nice to have a name instead of “that guy.”
“Maybe.” Boyd went to stand alongside Killian and held up the list. He pointed at what Douglas assumed was his name.
Killian’s eyes flicked between Douglas, the list, and back again. Then he nodded. “Oh. Yeah, I can see how that might have happened. Hah. Leave it to Melba.”
Boyd grunted acknowledgment, if not quite agreement, at that.
“But no, I don’t know where Melba is. Check with Lacey.”
“Good idea. Thanks anyway.” Boyd glanced at Douglas standing there as he strode away and called over his shoulder, “Looks amazing as always, Killian.”
Killian lifted a hand and smiled, and then he shifted that smile to Douglas. “Welcome to the Cardinal Market.”
“Thank you.” Douglas gestured at Boyd’s retreating figure. “So. Does he have a last name?”
“Yes, that he does.”
Douglas leaned forward.
They stared a moment, and then Killian lifted his chin. “Ah, gotcha. It’s Fraser.” He hummed musingly. “No wonder this happened.” Then he tilted his chin in the direction Boyd had gone. “Come back and introduce yourself after Boyd finishes dragging you around and you’re all sorted.”
“Sounds good. I will.” Douglas turned on his heel and then turned back around. “I’m Douglas—Douglas Bader.”
“Good gumdrops to you, Douglas.” Killian nodded, then repeated with a tsk, “Leave it to Melba.”
“Good gumdrops,” Douglas echoed and felt ridiculous. His intention to soak in and savor the holiday spirit was quickly unraveling.
COLLAPSE