You Own My Heart (The Blackwells of Crystal Lake 4)

Tiny grinned from ear to ear and reached under his faded brown leather jacket, which was laid across the bar. He pulled out a crimson gift bag, tied expertly with a gold-and-green ribbon. A large candy cane was pasted to a card.

“Merry Christmas, Honey.”

“Tiny.” She looked at the present with dismay. “No.” Dammit. She wasn’t good at this stuff.

He scooped up his jacket and slipped his massive arms into the sleeves. After wrapping a knitted red-and-green scarf around his neck, he put his hands on Honey’s shoulders and smiled. It was a warm, heartfelt smile that crept over his face and sat in his eyes, making them crinkle in the corners. “Don’t be such a Grinch.” He winked. “Put it under your tree and open it tonight.”

“How do you know I have a tree?” she mumbled, feeling ashamed at her behavior.

He chuckled. “I saw you take it upstairs last week.” He nodded at the bag. “It could use some dressing up.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“I know.” He chuckled.

She looked down at the bag. “Thank you.” It was all she had.

“You’re welcome.” Tiny took a step back. “All right. I gotta go. I can’t be late, or my mom will have my ass.”

Honey hid a smile. She’d seen a picture of his mother. The woman was barely five foot and maybe one hundred pounds soaking wet. His dad wasn’t much bigger. How in hell they’d produced a child the size of Tiny was anyone’s guess.

“Drive safe,” she said gruffly, accepting the bag with as much grace as she could muster. “Will do.” Tiny nodded toward the kitchen. “Josh is in the kitchen, but he’s leaving at two. So if it’s dead, close up and enjoy your night.”

“Sure thing.” Nash wasn’t in and neither was Cam. Susie had already called in sick, which wasn’t surprising. She had herself a new boyfriend, and her late nights were catching up. This was the second time she’d called in sick in less than a week. No matter. Honey preferred to be on her own anyway. The busier she was, the faster the time would go. She could close up shop, hide out in her apartment for the next few days, and not be bothered with all the Christmas craziness.

She tucked the present from Tiny under the bar and began to cut up some fruit. She didn’t do much because she had a feeling it was going to be dead. When she was done with the fruit, she began to scrub out the sinks and draft beer dispensers. By the time two o’clock rolled around, the place was sparkling and not one customer had walked through the doors. She told Josh to go and cranked up the tunes, though she changed it up a bit from Christmas songs to Foo Fighters. She might be from the South, but country wasn’t exactly her thing.

Not one to sit on her butt and do nothing, she decided to rearrange some of the tables and open up the space near the stage. When that was done, she dusted and mopped the entire bar and then cleaned the neon signs that lit up the bar and stage. She didn’t touch the big moose head ’cause it was creepy as hell. By four, she was tired. Her back ached and her belly rumbled. She grabbed the burger she’d had Josh make before he left and then locked up. She turned off the music and lights, retrieved the red bag Tiny had given her, and headed up to her apartment.

And still the snow fell.

While her microwave hummed, Honey checked her phone, but there were no messages, and she frowned. Simone usually sent her something silly on Christmas Eve. But then this year was different from before. Simone was in love and had moved to Florida. She probably forgot. Honey tossed the cell and, restless, eyed up the bright, shiny bag on her counter.

The microwave pinged, but she ignored it, cheeks burning with shame. Why had she been such an ass when Tiny gave it to her? Why did she have such a problem when someone did something nice for her?

Because they usually want something in return.

Angry with herself, she grabbed the bag before she could change her mind. Tiny wasn’t like that. Hell, no one she’d met in all of Crystal Lake was like that. She ripped open the card and laughed. It was perfect. A very naughty Santa four mugs deep at a bar, looking at the barkeep with a priceless expression on his face, while a half-empty toy bag lay at his feet. The guy looked disheveled, but more importantly, this Santa bore a striking resemblance to Tiny. No doubt the reason for this particular card. She then had a look at what was nestled in the gold tissue paper and felt her heart turn over.

With careful fingers, she extracted the most exquisite hand-blown glass decoration she’d ever seen. It was black, gray, and white—an abstract design that was intriguing, beautiful, and unique. She held it up to the light, a knot in her throat. She’d made one off-the-cuff remark about the boutique downtown and how much she’d loved the glasswork she’d spied in the window. Tiny had paid attention.

Honey stared at it and felt her eyes water. God, she was turning into a sap. She walked over to the saddest-looking Christmas tree on the planet, Earl was what she called the damn thing, and hung the ornament dead center. It wasn’t hard to do since there was only one other decoration, the doves from secret Santa, and a skimpy strand of lights she’d taken from the moose head in the bar. She plugged in the lights and stood back to admire the glasswork.

It was exquisite.

Honey grabbed her burger from the microwave and was just about to settle onto the sofa when her phone rang. She eyed the burger and then jumped up to answer it. It was probably Simone, and she didn’t want to miss the call. The fact was, she was out of sorts, and her friend’s voice would put things right. Before she could say hello, Honey heard a shaky voice on the other end—one that was definitely not Simone.

“Honey?”

Honey glanced at the caller ID, but it was unknown, and she didn’t recognize the number. “Yes, who’s this?”

“Brooke.”

Alarm bells sounded immediately. “Brooke, where are you? Are you okay?” The girl wouldn’t call unless she was desperate. She hated asking for help. Something they shared in common.

“I’m…no, not really.” Her voice trembled. “I got in a fight with Marcus. A bad one. But I don’t want to go home. Mom is drunk by now, and her new boyfriend is there. I can’t handle them.” Her voice quivered. “I went to the drop-in, but it’s closed. I forgot it was Christmas Eve.”

What teenager forgets about Christmas? But Honey knew. She was that kid. The one with no tree or presents or turkey dinner. The one who had a hell of a lot more to worry about than wondering what Santa was bringing.