She sniffed. "No one. That's the entire story of my love life. Pretty pathetic, huh?"

"You didn't date?"

"I tried, but not a lot of single guys came into the antique store. I went to the local junior college, but I didn't have extra time to socialize. Just when I thought it was all going to be okay, the cancer came back."

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"Thanks. I'm fine with most of it. Mom and I never wasted time with each other. We got to say goodbye. A lot of people don't get that chance. I do regret how I grew up. I had to do it fast, and I missed out on a lot of stuff like dating."

It was worse than he'd thought. If she'd only dated one guy when she was fifteen, then she was a virgin. He winced at the word. So much for a quick affair. He wasn't usually the type, but he would have made an exception for Holly. Now he couldn't. She was too innocent.

"You're twenty-eight?" he asked.

"Twenty-eight and never been kissed." She laughed and glanced up at him. "Well, I've been kissed, but I've never done anything else. I've never even seen a man naked."

She squeezed her eyes shut and ducked her head. "Oh, my, I can't believe I said that."

Jordan was having a little trouble with it, too. He was torn between running for cover and volunteering his services. Between the subject matter of their conversation and her nearness, he could give her an eyeful. h.e.l.l of a time to develop a conscience.

"What are your plans?" he asked. "Find some nice guy, get married and have a couple of kids?"

"I'd like to, but I don't think it's going to happen. I haven't had great luck with relationships."

"One relationship isn't enough to judge."

She straightened and looked at him. "That's a kind of luck. Relationships require trust, and I'm not very good at that."

"You had a good one with your mom."

She smiled. "It's hardly the same thing, but yes, we did have fun together. When she was feeling well, she used to take me places. We got great at having a good time with no money. We went to exhibits and parks. The free day at the zoo."

A single strand of hair slipped onto her cheek. Holly brushed it away impatiently. "She used to take all the holidays seriously. Half the garage was filled with decorations. Not just for Christmas, but for all of them. We had painted pumpkins for Halloween, decorated flags for May Day, stuffed hearts for Valentine's. On her last Christmas she gave me Mistletoe."

It was as if the cat heard her name. The gray, flat-faced sp.a.w.n of the devil strolled into the dining room. Her belly hung low, and she walked with a rolling gait.

"Hi, sweetie," Holly cooed as she reached out to pet her cat. Mistletoe sat down to accept the attention. As she purred, she glared at Jordan.

"That cat hates me," he muttered.

"I don't know why. She's normally very friendly."

"Sure. That's why she spends the afternoon spitting at me."

"She does not."

"Sure, she does. She knows exactly when I'm nearly asleep, and she comes in and hisses. Once I'm awake, she leaves." He glared back at the cat.

"She really likes Kyle."

"That proves my point."

Holly laughed.

Mistletoe rose to her feet and gave a quick pftt before heading out. As she pa.s.sed by Jordan's feet, she swiped out with her right front paw. He pulled back just in time to avoid being skewered.

Mistletoe raised her tall to a saucy angle and sauntered out of the room.

"She's a miserable animal. I hope she doesn't pa.s.s her personality on to her kittens."

"She's sweet," Holly protested. She stared after her cat. "But I have to admit, she doesn't like you much." She smiled at him. "So I'm even more grateful that you let me bring her with me. And thanks for letting me be here, too. I don't want you to think I'm going to be in the way for the holiday stuff."

"You won't be in the way. The family is huge and one more only means more fun."

"Thanks. Work keeps me busy during the day, but nights are hard. Especially at this time of year. Okay, okay, enough emotion. I don't want to get all weird and cry or embarra.s.s you."

"I don't embarra.s.s that easy."

"I do."

"I noticed."

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "So you're not mad at me anymore?"

"I was never mad. Just confused." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. He wanted to do a whole lot more, but that seemed the safest at the moment. "Friends?"

"I'd like that." She scrambled to her feet. "So what do you think about the wallpaper?"

As she discussed his various options, he thought about all she'd told him. She'd been alone for a long time. Even before her mother had died, Holly had been responsible for too much. He couldn't change her past, but he could give her a Christmas to remember. He vowed then to make that dream come true.

Chapter 8.

H olly glanced around her store in amazement. She and her mother had often talked about what they wanted A Victorian Parlor to be. They'd discussed the separate rooms, a formal parlor set up in the front, alcoves of decorative items, paintings, several tables with wallpaper and fabric samples. Furniture was scattered throughout the store, but the majority of it was in the huge room to the rear. As they'd planned, she'd filled the store with soft lighting and homey scents. From the moment she'd put the sign up and opened her doors, business had been good. In the past couple of weeks it had become spectacular, and she knew exactly who was responsible. Jordan.

Even on a Thursday afternoon the shop was crowded. Women cl.u.s.tered together in groups and cooed over the ornaments displayed on several Christmas trees. Her wreath inventory was down by half. If business kept up at this pace, she would sell out before Christmas. She was thrilled about all the sales.

In order to keep prices down, she'd bought in as high a quant.i.ty as she could afford. The purchases had drained her financial reserves to zero. When she'd worried about making a wrong decision she'd consoled herself with the fact that the Christmas items wouldn't spoil. What she didn't sell this year, she would sell next. In fact, part of her plan had been to buy two years' worth of inventory. Instead, she was selling it all in one year.

The front door opened, and a handsome couple walked in. The man was tall, maybe six feet four, with dark hair and an earring glinting from his ear. He looked dangerous, the kind of man who was deadly to women and their hearts. The woman also had dark hair, but hers was curly and long, nearly to her waist. She was slender and dressed in a wool jumper over a long-sleeved white blouse.

Holly studied them for a moment and realized she'd seen them when she'd first visited Jordan in the hospital.

The woman caught her eye and smiled, then started in her direction. She glanced at the tag on Holly's ap.r.o.n.

"You must be Holly. I recognized you from Elizabeth's description," she said. "I'm Rebecca Lucas, and this is my husband, Austin."

The three of them shook hands.