Oliver Blackhurst hated Christmas, and he hated the grump he’d become on one of the busiest shopping days of the year. He sighed as the strawberry blonde with pale eyes walked out of his store. He hadn’t meant to take his irritation out on her, though she had parked in a clearly marked space, and it had sounded like she and her daughter might leave the premises without actually buying a smoothie.
hadhad“Twenty-four,” one of his employees called, and he grabbed the two smoothies.
“Take the register for a minute,” he told Cara, and then he hurried toward the exit. He’d just barreled through it when he collided with another body. Both smoothies smashed right into the woman’s chest and torso, and Oliver sucked in a gasp and dropped everything in his hands.
He back-peddled quickly when he sa
