Her Naughty Holiday

“A Taser, a laser, a can of mace, an actual mace, a hunting knife, yes, yes, yes. I have everything I need for a week in LA. Let’s go, Pops, we’re going to be late.”

“Bye, dear,” Clover said. “Have fun or whatever it is that you do that’s like having fun.”

“Thanks, Clo. I left Sven’s number on your desk.”

“Sven?” Erick repeated as he grabbed Ruthie by her jacket collar and led her from the office. “Who’s Sven?”

“Nobody,” Ruthie said. “Just a male escort I hired for Clover.”

“Is that in your job description?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course. What do you think I do here all day?”

“Your daughter is weird, Erick,” Clover called after them, considering moving back into her desk nest.

“You don’t have to tell me that. Have a good Thanksgiving,” he said, gently force-marching Ruthie out to his truck.

“You, too,” she said. After Erick and Ruthie had gone, Clover forced herself to reply to her two emails.

To the first—the five-million-dollar buyout offer she’d received from PNW Garden Supply’s CFO—she replied with a simple I’ll let you know on Monday. Happy Thanksgiving.

To her sister’s email she replied with a smiley face emoji and a Great! Can’t wait to see everyone!

She made sure to fill the email with unnecessary exclamation points to mask her incredible sense of dread about the whole shebang. All her family—her parents, two siblings, their spouses and seven kids under one roof for an entire day? There was not enough punctuation in the world to fake how much she was not looking forward to that.

Kelly replied to the email almost immediately.

Mom wants to know if we’re going to be meeting anyone special on Thursday, Kelly wrote.

Clover picked up a trowel and considered stabbing her laptop with it so she wouldn’t have to reply.

Instead she simply ignored the email and got to work cleaning. Potting soil and wheelbarrow went into the storage shed. Ferns back into the greenhouse. It wasn’t the right time of year to trim a lemon tree so she moved it to the opposite corner of the office where it could spread out a little more until she could trim it down again to a more indoor-friendly size. And all the while she thought about what she would do with five million dollars and all the free time anybody could want.

Five million was a lot of money. Not enough to buy the world but plenty to go into her retirement account and leave enough to start a new company. But with the noncompete clause in the PNW Garden Supply offer, she wouldn’t be able to start another nursery in Oregon. She could move to Northern California and open a nursery there. Then again, that’s where her parents lived, which meant instead of hearing about how she needed to get married and have kids ASAP and STAT on major holidays, she’d hear it every single week.

Or she could stay in the Mount Hood area and open a landscaping business. Not quite as much fun as a nursery but it was still working with plants. Or she could take a few years off. Or she could move to Hawaii. Or Alaska. Or she could spend the money on male escorts for the next five years.

“You are not calling Sven,” Clover said to herself. “Even if he is half-off this week.”

Clover went to the sink and considered sticking her head under cold running water until she calmed down or drowned. Either would be preferable to her current confused, miserable and muddled state of mind. Instead she just washed all that potting soil off her hands with her lava soap and a nail brush. As she was drying her hands she saw headlights in the parking lot. After six already? She couldn’t believe so much time had passed that it had gotten dark. She needed to head home and get to work cleaning her house. The deck needed to be cleaned off, too, in case the weather was clear enough to grill outside or use her fire pit for s’mores. Her nieces and nephews would make s’mores over that fire pit in the middle of a snowstorm if their parents would let them. She better get someone to fix the loose boards by the pit.

So much to do, so little desire to do any of it.

“Knock, knock.”

Clover turned around and saw Erick sticking his head in through the workroom door.

“Oh, hey,” she said, tossing her hand towel on the counter. “What’s up?”

“My lovely brilliant wonderful daughter left her phone here. I have been commanded to fetch it and overnight it to her mom’s house.”

“Ruthie left her phone here? I thought she had that thing surgically attached to her hand.”

“Yeah, me, too. And didn’t I specifically ask her if she had her phone and her charger?”

“You did. Right after asking her if she had her meds.”

“Okay. Glad I have a witness for this so I know it’s one hundred percent her fault.”

“All her fault,” she said, trying not to laugh. Erick and Ruthie were hilarious together. Ruthie was comically sullen around her father, who was comically sullen around his daughter. They snarked at each other so well one would think sarcasm was the only language they both spoke. But it was impossible not to see how much Erick loved his girl and how much Ruthie adored her father, even if they did constantly harangue and harass each other. She called him “Pops,” which he hated, and he called her “Ruthless,” which she hated even more. Clover found it all endearing and entertaining. She wished she could tease her own parents like that.

“Ruthie said her phone’s in her desk but she might have locked it in there.”

“I’ll get my key,” Clover said. He followed her back into her office and Clover took the key off the wall hook. “You know, it is really not like her to leave her phone. She okay?”

“She’s fine. She probably has it. She’s probably pulling some kind of prank on me by sending me back here. There’s a real possibility there’s a snake in there,” Erick said. “I know my daughter and she knows I hate snakes.”

“I know her, too. So stand back. I’ll protect you. Ready?” She stuck her key in the desk drawer lock.

“I hate snakes,” Erick said.

“Set.”

“Really hate snakes.”

“Go.” She opened the drawer and saw... “It’s her phone.”

“No snakes?” Erick had his eyes shut so tight it looked like he was in pain.

“No snakes. She actually forgot her phone. Wow.”

“Maybe she is coming down with something. I hope she’s not sick. You think this is a sign of a brain tumor or something?”

“She seemed fine today.”

“Okay. I’ll get going, then. According to Ruthie, I have to find a twenty-four-hour UPS store and demand they ship this to her overnight and the driver has to be hot, not normal hot—UPS-driver hot.”

“That is a very specific request.”

“Is Sven UPS-driver hot?” Erick asked as he stuffed the phone into his coat pocket.

“I have no idea what Sven looks like. Your daughter is trying to get me to hire a male escort this week because my family is coming to my house for Thanksgiving.”

Erick lifted his chin and cocked an eyebrow.

“You all do Thanksgiving a little differently than most people.”

Clover laughed. “Oh, no, we do it the traditional way. Too much food and tons of criticizing family members for their life choices.”

“Who’s the target?”

Clover pointed at herself. Erick barked a laugh.

“You? The target?”

“Me. The target.”

“I don’t buy it. Why you?”

“Why not me?” she asked.

“Because you own and operate your own business. You know more about plants than anyone in this entire state. You’re respected by your employees, even my daughter, who doesn’t respect anyone or anything, and you’re...you know.”

“What?”

“Easy on the eyes,” he said.

“I am?”

“My eyes aren’t complaining,” he said. “Just saying, my mom’s always trying to get me to shave. She hates beards. But Ruthie won’t let me shave it off.”

“Why not?”

“One of her friends made the mistake of telling Ruthie her dad was ‘hot.’ Ruthie said I either had to grow a beard or wear a bag over my head.”

“The beard was the right choice.”

“But you don’t have a beard from what I can tell.” He narrowed his eyes at her face and Clover turned left and right, giving him a good look at her nonexistent beard. “Nope. No beard. No reason to pick on you for anything.”

“They’ll find a reason. They always do.”

“I have a cousin in jail for bouncing checks, my grandfather’s favorite hobby is sitting on his porch shooting his rifle at crows, and my aunt raises pygmy goats inside her house so, you know, your family should count their blessings.”

“I’m thirty. I’m not married. I’m not dating anybody. I have no kids. I could have a billion dollars and be crowned Queen of the Mountain and that still wouldn’t be enough for my family.”

“Ah...that explains Sven.” He nodded sagely.

“I’m about ready to hire him to play boyfriend for a week if it’ll shut my family up about my biological clock for one day. Which reminds me—you free this week?”

“You asking me to be your Sven?”

Clover laughed. “No, I was actually asking you if you could fix my deck.”

“Oh. Well, yeah. Sure. Big job?”

“Two loose boards and a broken slat.”

“What color stain?”

“Clear. Homewares brand.”

“I have some of that in my truck. I can come tomorrow morning, if it’s not pouring.”

“I’ll write down my address for you,” she said as she scribbled her home address on a note card and passed it to him. “I appreciate it. I have a fire pit and I know the kids will want to use it for marshmallows.”

“I can get it all done in an hour. My treat.”

“I pay people for the work they do. No freebies.”

“You gave my daughter a job when nobody else would. I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me a thing. Ruthie’s great at this job.”

“I know she is, but she wouldn’t have been great at her job if you hadn’t taken a chance on her. Nobody wanted to give a sixteen-year-old girl with green hair, a horrible attitude and a criminal record a job except you. Not even McDonald’s. Please. Let me fix your deck as a thank-you for keeping my kid out of trouble.”

“Fine. Since it’s only an hour’s work. Then we’ll call it even.”

“Great. See you tomorrow morning around eight.”

“Thanks, Erick. Have a good night in your empty house.”

“You, too,” he said. He started for the door and it was then that Clover realized that Ruthie was sneakier and more evil than she’d ever given the girl credit for. She’d left her phone here on purpose so Erick would have to come back for it and they’d be alone together. Clover would be angry except for one thing—she did really like Erick. And for that reason alone she said what she said.

“Hey, Erick?”

He turned back around in the doorway, and he did it so quickly it was as if he’d been hoping she’d say something to stop him.

“Yes, Clover?” he said in a playfully husky voice.

“I have something weird to ask you.”

“You’ve met my child. You know I can handle weird. Ask it.”

“Do you...would you...maybe would you want to be my Sven this week?”

2

ERICK STARED, SLIGHTLY slack-jawed, at Clover, who stared back, slightly sheepishly, at him. She was blushing, which he’d never seen her do before. It looked good on her, that blush. A little color in her pale cheeks. He’d thought more than once about the various ways of making her flush, blush and redden, but he hadn’t considered this one. He should have.

“Are you offering to pay me to sleep with you?” he asked. “I hope so. That’s been a fantasy all my life. I can go to a bar and you can come in and pick me up. We don’t have to use real money. I’ll accept Monopoly—”

“That is not what I’m asking.”

“Bummer,” he said. It was. He’d been nursing a crush on his daughter’s boss for a good year now, ever since he met Clover the day Ruthie started working at the nursery. He hadn’t done or said anything about the crush. Ruthie needed a job and a steady female presence in her life much more than he needed a girlfriend. But that fact had only stopped him from asking Clover out. It hadn’t put a dent in his crush.

“Here’s the thing,” she said. “I could really use somebody to play boyfriend for Thanksgiving. That’s all. Somebody to deflect all those questions I get from my family about why I’m not married yet, when I’m getting married, when I’m having kids...”

“Can’t you tell them to mind their own damn business?”

“You sound like Ruthie. Does it work when she tells you to mind your own damn business?”

“Well...no.”

“See my problem? It would make everything so much easier if I had a date for Thanksgiving. I know you’re alone this week. Ruthie told me. It’s a free meal and you wouldn’t have to be alone on the day. Interested?”

“Hmm...”

“Hmm...?”

“I kind of like being alone,” he said. “Thanksgiving isn’t a huge deal in my family. My grandmother’s Coquille. She’s always called Thanksgiving ‘What exactly am I supposed to be thankful for?’ Day.”

“Yeah, can’t blame her for that. Do you like free food?”

“I don’t usually turn it down, but I don’t drive out of my way for it.”

“Okay,” she said. “Just thought I’d ask.”

“Wait. You’re giving up on me already? That hurts.”

“I’m not going to try to convince you to do something you don’t want to do,” Clover said.

“Why not?”

“Because no means no.”

“I didn’t say no.”

“Then it’s a yes?”

“I didn’t say that, either. Come on. I’m a businessman. Let’s haggle.”

Clover laughed a nervous laugh, almost a giggle. She sat behind her desk and he sat on the desk next to her.

“You’re pretty when you laugh,” he said. “But you’re also pretty when you don’t laugh.”

“You’re sweet,” she said. “I feel like I shouldn’t have brought this up. I had a weak moment and your daughter set me up.”

“She left her phone here on purpose, didn’t she?” Erick asked.

“I am ninety-nine percent certain of it,” Clover said.

Goddamn, she was pretty when she blushed. No doubt about it. Blue eyes, blond hair and the natural beauty of a woman too busy to bother wearing much makeup. She always sported lip gloss, though. An icy pale pink that gave her a sixties mod look. A kissable color like bubble gum. He wondered what she tasted like.

“That girl will do me in someday, I swear.”

“She’s just worried about me,” Clover said. “It’s sweet.”

“I’m not used to my daughter being sweet. I’m more used to my daughter painting her bedroom walls and ceiling black, bribing an ex-con to give her a tattoo and flipping off the next door neighbor’s cat.”

“She flipped off the cat?”

“She said he was judging her.”

“I think she’s just trying to live up to her own reputation.”

“It’s working,” he said. “So do you really need someone to play boyfriend for the week? It’s that bad with your family?”

She sighed heavily and sat back.

“It’s hard,” she said. “They love me but that doesn’t make the stuff they say easier to hear. They think they’re saying, ‘We love you and we want you to be happy,’ but what I hear is, ‘You’re inadequate, you’re a disappointment and you haven’t done what you’re supposed to do to make us happy.’ They bug me so much about getting married that I’m scared to even date because I don’t know if I’m dating to make them happy or dating to make me happy. I’ve almost signed up for Tinder ten times in the last year and talked myself out of it.”

“I’d rather take a vow of celibacy than join Tinder. And I’m not even Catholic.”

“Don’t do that. That would be a waste.”

He grinned at her and shrugged. “You think I’m cute?” he asked.

“You’re hot,” she said. “Like UPS-driver hot.”

“That’s hot.”

“Smoking.”

“This is fun,” he said. “Why haven’t we ever flirted with each other before?”

“Because your daughter works for me, and I didn’t want to make it weird for her.”

“Oh, yeah. Her. Kids are such cock blocks. That’s the name of my parenting book if I ever write one, by the way.”

“That bad?”

“I love my kid, but damn, she makes things complicated. I don’t think I would have given asking you out a second thought if she was a normal kid. But this job was the miracle we needed. I didn’t think anybody would give her a chance after the barn incident.”

“Kids make stupid mistakes,” she said. “We all did.”

“At fifteen I snuck a couple beers from Dad’s stash, ‘borrowed’ the car without permission and ran over the neighbor’s bushes. I didn’t commit ecoterrorism to protest factory farming.”

“She’s got principles. I’ll give her that.”

“She’s got a criminal record for arson and destruction of private property is what she’s got.”

“That, too.”

“You’re good for her,” Erick said. “This job’s been good for her. I kept thinking about asking you out but then I thought Ruthie wouldn’t want to work for you if we were dating. Or if we broke up.”

“In this scenario we’ve already dated and broken up?” Clover asked.

“I’m a parent. We plan for all eventualities.”

“I’m not a parent and I had the same thoughts—don’t screw things up for Ruthie. But that’s me being selfish. She’s a great assistant. I’d hate to lose her.”

“She’s crazy about you. She needs a woman in her life. But her dad kind of does, too. Ask me what two hundred and sixty-eight means.”

“What does two hundred and sixty-eight mean?”

“That’s how many days until Ruthie starts college, and I have my house back. Not that I’m counting.”

“Are you counting?”

“I’m counting.”

“You know, my parents would probably be very impressed if they thought I were dating a single father. They’d think that was a ready-made family.”

“You really want me to be your Sven?” Erick asked. He already planned on doing it. This woman had taken his angry petulant pyromaniac daughter and turned her into a functioning member of society in under a year. He’d do anything for this woman, including but not limited to pretending to be her boyfriend for a couple days.

“I would appreciate it,” she said.

“We can have sex all week too, right?”

“Okay.”

“What?” Erick burst into laughter.

“What?” she repeated. “Why are you laughing?”

“I didn’t think you’d say yes. I was joking.”

“You were?” Her blue eyes went wide.

“Well...yeah. I mean, not that I don’t want to. I do want to. I swear to God, I thought you’d say no. I never guessed you’d say yes, not in a million years.”

“And why not?” she asked as she crossed her arms over her chest. Oh, no, he’d put her on the defensive. Bad move.

“You’re a little reserved.”

“Reserved? Me?” She sat up straighter, prim as a schoolmarm.

“Your lowest cut shirt is a turtleneck.”

“Is there something wrong with having a warm neck?”

“Not a damn thing. Obviously I misjudged you. I’m sorry,” he said, not at all in the least sorry to discover Clover Greene wanted to sleep with him.

“Okay, I might be a little reserved,” she said. “But it’s not on purpose. When you own your own business and run it all by yourself, you tend to be all business.”

“That’s all I mean. I just never heard you talk much about a personal life. And Ruthie would have told me if you were dating anybody.”

“No time,” she said. “I guess that’s why I said yes when you said...what you said.”

“When I said I wanted to sleep with you?”

“Yes, that thing,” Clover said. “I actually have time this week to do that sort of...thing. It’s been a long time since I was involved with someone in a clothing optional type scenario.”

“How long? Wait, don’t answer that. That was a rude question.”

“We’re talking about sleeping together. It wasn’t rude. It was a fair question.”

“Okay, how long? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

“You show me yours first.”

“Years,” he said. “A year and a half? About that. I was seeing someone right before Ruthie got arrested. Then my entire life turned into babysitting her every minute of the day. You?”

“I had a boyfriend for a few months about three years ago. We broke up when he moved to Seattle for work. My parents still ask about him.”

“Ouch.”

“I don’t even miss him. They miss him.”

Erick held out his hand and as soon as he did it, he wished he hadn’t. His hands were a wreck—covered in deck stain with old scars and calluses. But she didn’t seem to mind. She put her hand in his and he saw she, too, had scars and calluses on her hands.

“I need a manicure,” she said. “My last manicure was about the same time as my last boyfriend.”

“Never had a manicure,” Erick said. “Never had a boyfriend, either. Ruthie tried to talk me into being gay because one of her girlfriends had a crush on me. I had to politely decline.”

“This is nice. Holding hands. I’d forgotten how nice this was.” Clover sat back in her chair again but didn’t let his hand go.

“Very nice. I suppose it wouldn’t kill me to be your Sven for the week.”

“And if it’s just through Thanksgiving, no big deal, right? Fake boyfriend, not real boyfriend.”

“I could make you a very good fake boyfriend. I can be fake nice, fake sweet, fake romantic. I can really fake it.”

“I don’t know if you could fake anything. You seem very genuine to me,” she said.

“I’m good at faking being genuine. Have to be. Teenage girls see through bullshit like they have X-ray vision or something. Ruthie wouldn’t have left her phone here if she didn’t think you and I would actually like each other. She saw right through me. X-ray eyes.”

“She didn’t need X-ray eyes on me. Just normal eyes. I sort of kind of check you out occasionally when you come to pick her up.”

“You do?”

“I do.”

“For how long?”

“Um...since the first day you and Ruthie came by?” She winced. Erick tried very hard not to laugh at her extreme discomfort. Clover was seriously adorable, and he seriously adored her.

He put his hand on his cheek and batted his eyelashes. “Oh, no, you’ve set me to blushing.”

“Stop it. I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

“Why?” he asked, letting her hand go.

“Well... I did sort of just accidentally agree to sleep with you.”

“Nothing to blush over. I want to sleep with me, too. In fact, I do sleep with me every single night. I’m good in bed.”

“Are you?”

“I sleep like the dead, eight straight hours every night.”

“That isn’t what I meant.” She pointed at him through her hoodie pocket. “You are enjoying this.”

“I haven’t gotten laid in a long time. I would come from a foot rub, I swear. Yes, I’m enjoying flirting with you. I’m a little out of practice, though. How am I doing?”

“Not bad. I’m enjoying this, too, and that’s usually a good sign, right?”

“Definitely. Great sign.”

“So...” she said, standing up and facing him. Her hands were still stuffed deep in her pockets. He knew she was thirty but with her hair in the ponytail and wearing jeans and a hoodie, she looked younger, fresh-faced and innocent almost. Or maybe it was the nervousness and the embarrassment that made her look so young. It was endearing, whatever the cause. He wanted to kiss her very much.

“So. You want to do this?” he asked.

“Tell me what ‘this’ is and I’ll tell you if I want to do it.”

“You need a boyfriend to shut your family up on Thanksgiving. I’d be happy to play that part. But I’d like to get to know you better first so it doesn’t feel like we’re faking it. If I could choose, I’d go home with you tonight.”

“You want to sleep with me tonight? This night? Sunday night?”

“This very night,” he said. “I also agreed to fix your deck at 8:00 a.m. and if I’m already there I can sleep later.”

“Now I know why Ruthie punches you in the arm all the time.”

He braced himself for an arm punch. Instead Clover rested her forehead on his shoulder and laughed softly. After two seconds her head was still there. He put one arm around her waist and pulled her a little closer to him. She didn’t seem to mind that one bit so he wrapped his foot around her leg and pulled her even closer...