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Mari pulled into her mother's driveway, glad to find Declan still hard at work across the street. She bounded out of her Jeep, ignoring the bags of decorations and supplies, and hurried over. She told herself it was to pitch her idea, not because she was becoming addicted to the zing of sexual excitement that he incited. "Here to pay off your bet early?" Declan asked from his perch on a ladder. He'd finished the stage and was now adding touches of holiday glitz. It looked great. But hers was going to be better, she promised herself. "I stopped by the town hall to enter the contest and got to visiting," she responded. Mostly she'd been scoping out possible customers. Even though she'd rented her salon space, she wasn't starting work until after the first of the year. But it never hurt to promote the business a little. And, she admitted to herself, to see if people were still talking about her, Declan and her mother. Which they were. She squared her shoulders, knowing she needed to use that as motivation to win this contest instead of pouting over the unfairness of it all. "Get any good gossip?" Declan taunted good-naturedly. She wasn't about to tell him that they were still good fodder for the rumor mill. She wished people would move on. And they would, once Declan confessed. "The guy who was supposed to work on the gazebo in the town square got hurt last week," she said instead. "Now the council needs a carpenter. You interested?" "No." "C'mon. You'd be great. They could really use help." And if she saved the day by hauling Declan in, she'd be one step closer to regaining her golden girl status with the town. That meant good cheer, friendly faces…and paying customers. "Nah. They don't need me," he dismissed, going back to screwing some doodad into another thingamabob. Mari frowned. "Really, they do. And I'll do my part. I'm not so great with a hammer, but you can teach me." "Let's put it this way," he corrected, still playing with his screwdriver. "They might want help, but they won't want mine." Mari huffed, sending a puff of chilled air around her head like smoke. She was fully aware that the town had treated him like shit. But if he'd just put in some time with them, everyone would see what a great guy he was and quit judging him by his past. "How do you know that?" she asked in exasperation. "If they wanted my skills, they'd ask me." His words were reasonable. His tone was mellow. So why did she think this was a huge deal for him? "I'm asking you to help." "Not a good idea. Don't you remember what happened the last time you ended up associated with me? If I recall, you are still trying to wash that stain away." Mari rolled her eyes. "You should quit being so stubborn," she warned. "Don't forget, Santa keeps track of whether you've been naughty or nice." Declan's laugh filled her with a lusty sort of joy. The kind that said he'd make her laugh just before he sent her screaming over that delicious edge of ecstasy. "Darlin', haven't you heard? Naughty is nice."



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