Holding Holly (Love and Football Series) (2 page)

Handwriting a hundred or so letters was an additional time commitment Holly didn’t have, but she’d make it work. She’d stuck some of the letters in her backpack earlier, hoping maybe she could read a few of them while the shop was slow and make a few notes about what to say to each letter writer in response.

The letter featuring the crayon drawings was sweet. A little girl wanted a new bike from Santa and assured him that she’d been “very good.” That would be an easy one to write. The next letter was from a little boy who wanted a baseball mitt, a new bat, and some cleats. He promised to make sure he left some carrots for the reindeer, as well as cookies for Santa: another fun letter to write.

Holly grinned to herself. This would be more fun than work. She slid her finger under the flap of the third letter and drew out a piece of unadorned notebook paper.

This one wasn’t quite so cute and funny.

Dear Santa Claus,

I realize I’m too old to still believe in you, but I really need your help
.

My mom told my little brother and sister that you might not be coming to our house this year. Our dad left us, and my mom lost her job. Would you please bring my brother and sister some presents? They don’t know our mom doesn’t have a lot of money right now. Also, I know it’s a lot to ask, but would you please bring my mom a job?

Thank you so much. I hope you have a Merry Christmas
.

Michael

Holly reread the letter, and her vision blurred with tears. She grabbed up the envelope. No return address. No last name. She wondered what she could do to help Michael and his family. But first, she’d have to find them. Noel wasn’t a large town, but someone in this kind of trouble wouldn’t be advertising it to their neighbors and friends.

Her grandma had always told her that the letters were cheerful. Noel didn’t have underprivileged children—or so most people thought. Not everyone who worked in Noel was wealthy. Maybe Michael’s family fell through the cracks of a town that was unrelentingly cheerful and upbeat. People came to Noel to forget their problems, not to encounter more of them.

She brushed tears off of her face with impatient fingertips and looked at the letter one more time. Michael had left no other identifying information.

“Where can I find you, Michael?” she murmured.

A few seconds later a shadow fell across the counter in front of her, and she looked up into a familiar face. Her heart skipped a beat. One of her many jobs was serving in the cafeteria at the Seattle Sharks’ training camp each summer, and Derrick Collins, the guy she’d had a highly secret and raging crush on for the past two years, was standing less than a foot away from her.

If she didn’t already know he was as shy as she was, she would have been scared of him. He was over a foot taller than she was, and he outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds. He wore dreadlocks, multicarat diamond stud earrings, and the latest designer denim. He got paid to manhandle other big guys six months a year. When he came through the food line at the Sharks’ training facility, however, he spoke to her in a soft tone of voice and she’d seen him blush more than once.

She was wearing an elf costume. Her eyes were probably red. She felt her face getting hot. He probably thought she was a dork, and she glanced down in embarrassment.

“You look like my Holly from the food line,” he said. “I haven’t seen you for a while.”

“Yes, it’s me,” she said and swallowed hard.
His
Holly. Maybe she was hearing things.

“What’s the matter, Holly? How can I help?”

His bleached white smile was dazzling against his smooth ebony skin. He reached out to tip her chin up with gentle fingers.

“I’m okay.” She grabbed the letters and shoved them back into her backpack. “I’m surprised to see you,” she said.

“It’s nice to see you too. I usually have to get up pretty early to see your smiling face.” He sat down on one of the barstools on the other side of the counter. “I didn’t know you lived in Noel.” She saw color rising in his cheeks. “I’d come here more often.”

He couldn’t
really
be flirting with her. Maybe he was just trying to get her to not cry in front of him anymore or something.

“My grandma lives here. She had surgery and she needed some help, so here I am.”

“That’s pretty nice of you,” he said. “How is she doing?”

“She’ll be fine in a few weeks.” She gave him a nod. He was still grinning at her.

“Will you be here until school starts again?”

“Yes,” she said. She wanted to ask him what he was doing in Noel, but maybe she should try to remember she was at work first. “Would you like some coffee or a snack? We have these really great cinnamon rolls . . .”

He stood and moved to the barstool directly across from her. “If you have a to-go container, I’ll take three. I heard y’all have beer.”

“We do. We have bottles, or two local microbrews on tap.” She slid off of her barstool and got him a glass of ice water. “There’s Noel IPA or Black Bear Stout. Which would you like?”

“I’ll take the IPA, please.” He took a sip of the ice water she’d put in front of him. “You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”

“You could be shopping for gifts or getting your holiday cards hand-cancelled,” she teased.

“I hate shopping. My mama and my grandma love it, though. They’re currently buying out the quilt shop.” He shook his head a little. “I told them to leave some stuff for everyone else in the candy shop earlier.”

“That candy shop’s a tough one to walk away from,” Holly said. “They must be stocking up for the holidays.” She poured his beer and put it down on a bar napkin in front of him.

“They bought some candy for me, too,” he said, and she watched a faint wash of pink move over his cheeks again. “I might have a sweet tooth.”

This was officially the longest conversation she’d ever had with Derrick. It was hard to imagine how such a big, tough man could exude boyish charm. He took a sip of his beer and glanced around the coffee shop. “I must have scared everyone else off.”

“That’s not true.” She knew she should be cleaning something or straightening up. “It’s been slow today.” She grabbed one of the laminated menus out of the holder at the end of the counter. “Would you like something to eat?”

He took the menu out of her hand and glanced at it for a few seconds. He laid it back down on the counter and looked into her eyes. “I’d rather have something to eat with you.”

The breath caught in her throat. He couldn’t really mean it. Maybe he was just being nice. “I have to work right now . . .”

“Do you work tomorrow, too?”

“I’ll be here for breakfast and lunch.”

“Let’s have dinner together, then.” He gave her a confident grin. “Somewhere else.”

Chapter Two

D
ERRICK WATCHED
H
OLLY’S
mouth curve into a shy smile. He’d had a thing for her since the first time he saw her dishing up breakfast to the cafeteria line at the Sharks’ training camp, and he wasn’t letting this chance to get to know her better slip by. She glanced into his face and back down at the counter as she thought of an answer. He wasn’t going to wait.

“Do you like Mexican food?” he asked.

She nodded and forced out something that sounded like “Yes.” The happiness on her face and the blush spreading over her pale skin told him she was interested, but shy. He reached out to squeeze her hand and marveled at how small it was inside of his.

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six tomorrow night, then.”

“But . . . but you don’t have an address . . .”

He dug in his pocket for his smartphone. “If you type your address in here, I’ll find your place.”

She swallowed hard, blushed a little more, and wouldn’t meet his eyes. “You’ll be meeting my grandma. I’m at her house.”

“Maybe she’d like to come to dinner, too,” he teased. “I’ll bring my mama and my grandma. She’ll feel right at home.”

She looked up into his eyes, and his heart did a funny little ba-bump as laughter spilled out of her. He wondered what he could say to her to make her laugh again.

“It sounds like quite a date,” she said.

“So, that means I have one?”

“Yes.” Her eyes sparkled. “I promise I won’t wear the elf outfit.”

His eyes held hers. “I wouldn’t mind,” he teased.

Derrick managed to hustle his mama and grandma out of the quilt shop before he had to call his banker and tell him to brace for incoming. They walked along Main Street, window-shopping and enjoying the chilly afternoon. It was snowing again. He loved the delight in his grandma’s face as she caught a few flakes in her outstretched hand. Snow was a rarity in Alabama.

His mama indicated the Caffeine Addiction bakery box in his hand. “Did you get some coffee beans, honey?”

“I got us some cinnamon rolls for tomorrow morning. I thought you might like them.”

His grandma slipped her hand through his arm. “That sounds delicious. Are you hungry?”

“If you and Mama would like to get a bite, I’m sure I could eat.”

The two women in his life tugged him through the doorway of the local diner.

“Maybe we could visit the Christmas decorations store after lunch,” his mama said. He resisted the impulse to groan aloud.

D
ERRICK WAS SPARED
from the holiday decorations store when the diner’s server—a lifelong Sharks fan, she told him—asked for an autograph. Minutes later, he and his family were surrounded by clamoring football fans. Despite the best efforts of the diner’s manager to persuade the other customers to let Derrick and his family eat in peace, it wasn’t going to happen. Derrick glanced out the front window of the diner to note more fans gathering outside on the sidewalk too. Holly wouldn’t have told people they were in town, so someone else had, and now he needed to make a quick exit.

Talking with Sharks fans was part of his job description. Normally, he loved it. He didn’t enjoy seeing his mama and grandma jostled by overeager fans, or missing their chance to order a late lunch, however. He signed autographs and posed for photos while the diner’s manager brought his mama and grandma something to drink and made sure they were safely away from the crowd while they waited for him.

A quick glance outside showed the line of fans stretching down the sidewalk. A woman his mom’s age extended a scrap of paper to him for an autograph.

“It’s so nice to see you here. My family loves the Sharks.”

“We love your family, too,” he said. Her face lit up.

She glanced down for a moment and bashfully peered up at him beneath her lashes.

“You probably don’t want to do this in public, but I would love to see your sack dance again.”

Derrick’s sack dance was the toast of sports broadcasters everywhere. He’d initially done it after being egged on by one of his teammates. His belly rolls after dragging some other team’s quarterback to the turf had gotten more elaborate over the years. He’d even incorporated something called a “samba roll” after briefly dating a ballroom dancing instructor. Other guys did stuff like flex their biceps, drop to one knee and pantomime roping a calf, or nothing at all. Derrick’s gyrations brought wild applause and laughter around the league. And five million hits on YouTube.

“I always do this in front of thousands,” he assured the woman. He called out, “Who’s going to join me?”

Amid clapping and shouts of “Go Sharks!” he gave his best example. A few people jumped out of their seats to dance with him. He had to laugh when he saw his mama trying to do a belly roll too. He signed a few more autographs and posed for some more photos, then glanced around as he heard a loud voice say, “Okay, folks, let’s break it up here. Mr. Collins and his family might want to have something to eat.”

Noel’s twelve-man police force had arrived on the scene. Within a few minutes, four uniformed officers ensured the other customers were back at their tables. Eight other officers were dispersing the crowd outside of the restaurant. One of the officers told him, “We have a squad car outside to take you back to your car, if you’d like.”

“I would appreciate that. Thank you for offering,” he said.

The manager of the diner walked out of the kitchen with two to-go bags. “This is for you and your family,” he told Derrick. “We’re sorry for the inconvenience, and we hope you’ll enjoy it.”

Derrick could only imagine the headlines on sports websites around the country about accepting food he didn’t pay for at a local mom-and-pop-type restaurant. He grabbed his wallet out of his back pocket and pulled out three twenties. “Will this take care of it?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house. We hope you’ll come by another time,” the manager said.

“I insist,” Derrick said. “We’ll visit again soon.” He pushed the cash into the guy’s hand. “Thanks for the food.”

A couple of the officers were helping his mama and grandma out of their seats. They were ushered out the front door of the diner and into the squad car seconds later amid more applause and chants of “Go Sharks!” from the crowds on the other side of the sidewalk. A few minutes later, they were in his SUV and driving toward the freeway.

“I’m sorry we didn’t go to the decorations store. Maybe we could go another time,” he said.

“I’m never going to get used to that,” his grandma mused. “All you did was walk into the restaurant, and everyone went crazy.”

“Grandma, it’s football season. The team’s winning, so everybody wants to talk to us.” He pulled in a deep breath. “I feel bad you didn’t get to see everything you wanted to see.”

His grandma stifled a yawn behind one hand. “We saw plenty, honey. Thank you for taking us. We had fun, didn’t we?”

“Oh, yes,” his mother said. “We have so many projects now. We can visit Noel another time.”

He knew they weren’t trying to make him feel guilty, but he felt the pang anyway. They didn’t ask for a hundred people interrupting their day out with him today.

Twenty minutes or so later, they were both fast asleep in the back seat of his SUV. He wanted to tell them about his date with Holly, but it would have to wait. He was also sure it would end up on the church’s prayer chain.