Read A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree Online

Authors: Janet Dailey

A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree (18 page)

BOOK: A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree
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“You could probably rig something.” She laughed.
They kept walking through more furniture.
“A lot of this is just boring stuff from TV show sets. When it gets too shabby looking, the prop director gets rid of it. But don’t worry. We’re on our way to the crazy stuff.”
“Don’t see any moons yet.”
Nicole looked around. “I have scrounger’s luck. Let’s see what they have. There’s more than one warehouse out here.”
Sam had stopped at an armchair.
“You can’t fit anything into that sublet.”
“I don’t intend to.” He looked more closely at the chair. “This looks familiar for some reason.”
“Check the tag. You can find out what show it comes from. Prop people don’t like to use things that have been featured on other shows.”
Sam found the tag and read it aloud.
“They Live to Love.
I don’t believe it. My mother used to watch that soap. This chair is part of TV history. ”
“I can’t imagine anyone on a ranch watching soaps.” Nicole came over to look at the chair, curious herself.
“Hey, my mom got up at five and worked most of the day for as long as I can remember. When she sat down to watch
They Live to Love
, we knew it was quittin’ time for her. We weren’t allowed to bother her—she loved that show. I swear she knew the characters better than the writers did.”
“Really? That’s funny.”
Sam walked slowly around the chair. “And I even remember which one used this chair. The kindly doctor.”
He brushed off some of the dust and sat down. “You have to take my picture. Mom won’t believe it.”
Nicole took out her phone. “Smile.”
“It’s all coming back to me.” His voice became almost reverent as he rested his hands on the arms. “Dr. Glick sat right here when he told Lucy Kay she had an incurable disease that would cause her to morph into the body of her long-lost evil twin.”
“You have to be kidding. Smile again.”
The phone camera clicked several times as he talked.
“I actually watched that episode. Fell off the couch laughing, too, until my mother whacked me with a pillow. I still have the scar.”
“Sure.” Nicole came over.
“Let’s take one of you and me,” he said. “Right here in the chair. I’ll hold the phone. I have longer arms than you do.”
She held back after she handed him the phone.
Sam could read her mind. “Granted, there isn’t much room. But are we still just friends?”
“Are you still sorry you kissed me?”
He sighed. “Is that why you’ve been so skittish? Girl, come over here.”
Nicole didn’t fight him as he pulled her onto his lap. But she did wiggle off until she was safely squeezed into the side of the chair cushion. Her hand curled around her phone and took it from him.
“I’m not taking a picture of us until you answer my question. Are you still sorry you kissed me?”
“No. And I never was sorry. As I remember, I was just saying that to make you mad.” His gaze was steady. There was no escaping it. Their noses were only inches apart.
Nicole looked at him warily.
“Comfortable?” he asked her.
“Squeezed like this? No.”
“How about if I turn this way?” He adjusted his body so that he was somewhat on his side, his long legs stretched out. The change in position knocked the Stetson off his head. Without looking, Sam made an overhand pass and set it on top of the armchair.
Nicole had room to move. But instead of getting up, she turned on her side too. She reached out, but not to push him away. Her hand gripped his muscular upper arm and drew him fractionally closer.
Sam took advantage of her unspoken invitation. His lips touched her mouth, gently at first. She opened her lips to his exploring tongue, and the kiss was on.
The armchair rocked a bit when he moved his free arm around her waist just above her hips and lifted her up onto him. Nicole arched, shamelessly enjoying the stolen moment of pure pleasure. No one was looking. They were all alone in the vast, dim warehouse.
His hands began to move over her, bold caresses that heated her skin without him getting under her clothes. She cupped his face, kissing him harder.
Sam let her do whatever she wanted, holding her just right, responsive and tender ... and strong. It was almost too much for her.
Nicole sat up on his lap and put her hands on his chest, just looking at him. His smoky blue eyes were half closed but very, very focused on her. She touched a fingertip to his mouth, following its hard curve.
Then she rolled off, sitting primly beside him and looking straight ahead. Sam straightened in the chair and put his arm around her shoulders.
Nicole was a little out of breath. “Well, that was nice. Very nice.”
Sam stroked her hair and smiled down at her, cradling her in the crook of his arm. “More than nice and you know it. There must be something else on your mind.”
She looked at him dreamily. “We were looking for a moon.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, no. I totally forgot.” She sat up. “We have to go moon-hunting some other time, Sam. One job is all I can handle or I’ll lose my mind.”
Of course, Sam might not be helping with that. He looked like he was waiting for her to explain.
“The second window at Now—I have to do it before Darci comes back from Aspen.”
“As in right now?”
Sam helped her stand. She brushed at her clothes and pulled down her sweater. “I want to get it out of the way. This was a wasted trip,” she fretted.
Not to Sam.
“Maybe I can find a few things for Now.” She looked around at the stored furniture. “Not here, though. You up for a fast scavenger hunt?”
He had the feeling she needed to be busy.
“Why not? And don’t worry about the second window. You have the measurements in your notebook? I saw you keeping a running log of everything. ”
“Yes but—”
“Call Bob. Or I’ll call him on the way back and give him a heads-up. First things first. He can build the framework from your notes.”
“If he has time.”
“I’ll build it if he can’t.”
Nicole sat down in another chair with no arms and crossed her legs, yoga style. She closed her eyes and let her hands rest on her knees.
“Breathe,” she said softly. “Delegate. Breathe. Delegate. ”
Sam laughed out loud. Her eyes opened, flashing with indignation. “Shut up!”
 
 
Someone had left several mannequins resting against the back of the window bay at Now. The last assistant to leave had let them in, then handed the keys to Nicole with instructions to drop them off at her apartment in the morning.
Sam went to move them. “You’re not going to use these, right?”
“No.”
Sam went to move them. He put his hands around the waist of one, feeling a little foolish, but there was no one to look. He lifted it easily. “These are light. I thought mannequins were made of plaster.”
She shook her head. “They haven’t been made of plaster since forever. That stuff shatters, and mannequins get dropped a lot.”
He looked into the haughty face of the mannequin, holding the torso away from him. “So how much do you weigh, honey?”
“About forty or fifty pounds. It’s made of plastic composite resin. But don’t hold it that way.”
Sam brought the mannequin close to him as if he was giving it a hug. Its arms rotated somewhat and stuck out over his shoulders. “Like this?” He turned around a little too quickly.
The left arm came off and fell to the floor.
“Oops. Sorry.”
“Every newbie holds a mannequin wrong. There’s only one way to get a good grip on those things.”
Sam was afraid to let go. The right arm had snagged on a clothing rack. He looked at the metal plate in the torso where the left arm had come off. “I don’t think I broke anything. Yet.” He looked down at the arm on the floor. “Still has all the fingers. That post in the arm locks into this plate, right?”
“Hang on a sec. I’ll help you. I just can’t let go of the framework right now.”
“Take your time. Me and the one-armed lady here are just getting to know each other.” He eased the awkward object a little away from himself and a leg came off. It hit the floor and rolled around, also undamaged.
“Damn!”
Nicole laughed heartlessly.
“What the hell do you want me to do with this?” He couldn’t move without stepping on a detached limb, so he just stood there.
She put down her hammer and found a two-by-four to support the framework. “Here I come.” She made her way to him, picking up the leg and the arm and setting them aside.
Sam turned his head to look when she carefully eased the clothes rack away from the mannequin’s arm. To his relief, it stayed on. But his slight motion to observe Nicole had caused the mannequin’s wig to slip down over its painted eyes.
It didn’t seem right. He held the mannequin tightly around the waist and gently adjusted the wig. The head fell off, landing in a pile of neatly folded sweaters.
Nicole burst out laughing again. By now he was too.
“Sorry, honey,” he said to the head on the sweaters when he could talk again. “Didn’t mean to be so rough with you.”
Nicole took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m going to show you how to pick up a mannequin like a professional.”
Sam rolled his eyes. “I’m happy to learn, but just so you know, I have no intention of starting a career as a window dresser.” He shifted a hand. What was left of the mannequin teetered on the remaining leg. “I can’t let go!”
Nicole put her arms around the torso’s waist and lifted the whole thing off him, stepping to one side.
“First of all, you carry it with the back to your front.”
Sam was happy to be relieved of his burden. He pretended to kiss the mannequin’s gracefully outstretched hand—without actually touching it.
“Because you’re holding it from behind, you can see where you’re going and keep the arms from catching on things,” Nicole said. “Now here’s how to do the actual grab.”
Her hand slid down over the smooth front to where the fake legs joined the plastic torso. “Right here. In between.”
Sam guffawed. “I shouldn’t watch. This is not PG-13.”
“That’s how you have to do it,” she insisted.
“I can’t. My momma would slap me into the middle of next week if she ever knew.” He had to lean against the wall, he was laughing so hard.
Nicole was laughing too, but she was determined to teach him. “Don’t say that. You may have to help me move the ENJ mannequins.”
Sam composed himself and listened up.
Nicole hoisted the mannequin. “Got the idea? This way it leans against you close to your own center of gravity but it’s high enough so you aren’t dragging it. It doesn’t seem as heavy and it won’t separate.”
She carried the mannequin to a heavy base and attached the remaining foot and leg to it in one swift motion.
“Live and learn,” he said, wiping his eyes. He picked up the fallen arm and leg and brought them over. She fastened them to the torso and adjusted the position.
Sam went back for the head, handing it to Nicole. She positioned it on the neck but stopped a half turn short of screwing it on completely.
“There,” she said mischievously. “It looks better with the head on backward, don’t you think?”
“Stop,” he gasped. “Just stop. I hurt from laughing.”
There was a knock on the door. Nicole looked through the glass to see Bob, with the framework over his shoulder.
She let him in.
“Thanks so much,” Nicole said to Bob. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Happy to help. Hi, Sam.” He walked over to the second window bay and set down the framework. “Did you cut the vinyl for this yet, Nicole?”
“No,” she answered. “I’m going to run outside and take photos of the storefront. Then I’ll e-mail it to my sign guy, and he’ll have it printed out super big for me tomorrow. Won’t take long to install.” She turned to Sam.
“Fill me in,” he said.
Nicole found her notebook. “It’s fundamentally the same idea as the first window, but I’m changing the time and mood to the present. So the windows by each side of the door really will be Now and Then. And the now side will include an image of the then side. Best I could do, considering the time crunch.”
The two men looked at each other. Sam spoke for both of them when he said, “That’s a great idea. And easy.”
“Glad you think so. This could be my last boutique job,” Nicole said with a smile. “I’m meeting Finn in the morning. He’s going to get me up to speed on corporate retailing.”
BOOK: A Cowboy Under My Christmas Tree
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