Sleigh Ride Together with You (10 page)

“Alex!” Mike gestured to Colin's chair. “Get him wired and in the chair, people. We go live in three.”

“What's he talking about?” Alex mouthed to her, his eyes wide and pleading as he jabbed his thumb against his chest. “Me?”

If the situation wasn't so serious, she might be amused. Poor guy. She hoped he wouldn't want to throttle her after the show. Apparently, Mike must have assumed she would have already informed Alex he was going to be her co-host this morning.

After beckoning to him, Nicole patted the cushion on Colin's chair.

A few seconds later, Alex slid into the chair beside her. He wore nice dress khakis with a deep green sweater. She loved it when a man wore a sweater, and the color accentuated Alex's eyes to great advantage. Gorgeous.

Nicole tried to ignore how much she liked his dark hair slightly mussed. Wondered what he'd look like with sleepy eyes and a bit of stubble on that strong, masculine chin. The collar of his white shirt sported pencil-thin red stripes, making it somewhat resemble a candy cane. The wardrobe supervisor couldn't have chosen anything more perfect for him.

“This is a horrible idea. Dumbest thing I've ever done, without a doubt.”

Nicole laughed. “Relax. You'll be perfectly fine.”

“I hope you're right.” Alex fell silent as the technicians hooked up his microphone and gave him brief instructions. “I doubt I'll remember any of that,” he mumbled under his breath, probably more to himself than to her.

“Paste a smile on your face and get ready to say,
Wake Up, Des Moines!
”

He smirked. “Don't you mean look out, Des Moines!”

“Keep that sense of humor, and you'll be fine. If you want, I'll handle the interviews and you can sit there and look pretty. Feel free to ask a question every now and then. Whatever suits your comfort level.”

He visibly tensed. “I resent that sexist remark, but we're almost out of time. My concern of the moment is that I'm nowhere near as amusing as Colin.” He twisted his hands together and chewed his lower lip.

“Don't even try, or you'll fail. Be yourself. Alex Kingsfield's charming enough on his own. We don't have a live audience this morning, so that makes it a little easier.” She darted a look his way and caught his apparent surprise, probably by her compliment. “For the record, you're also plenty amusing, whether you intend to be or not.”

She noted how his Adam's apple slid up and down in his throat. His eyes were wide, accentuating their rich hue. “I'm not sure whether to be flattered or scared out of my mind.”

“It's all good, I assure you. Now, sit up straight. Stop twisting your hands and worrying your lip.”

Mike announced that they'd go live in two minutes.

Dorie, the makeup artist, hurried toward them with her red case. An expression of horror crossed Alex's features. He raised both hands. “Oh, no, you don't.”

“Hush now. Be a good boy, Mr. Kingsfield. Just a little dab of powder on your nose and forehead and you'll be all set.” Before he could protest further, Dorie went about her task while softly humming a holiday tune. “There,” she said, standing back a few seconds later with a satisfied smile. “Perfect. Now you're ready to woo the women of Des Moines.”

Dorie moved over to Nicole. Grabbing another brush, she dusted her cheeks with the powder, no doubt to mask the flush of her cheeks.

As Mike counted down until they went on the air, Alex grabbed her hand. Thankfully, it wasn't clammy, although she couldn't blame him if it was. “This one's for Sally,” he said.

That made her smile. “For Sally.”

“Do we have time for a prayer?”

They both bowed their heads, and Nicole said a quick prayer before releasing his hand. “I have a confession. You can blame me for more or less suggesting you as my co-host. For what it's worth, I'm sorry.” She smiled at the camera at the precise moment Mike gave the signal and the “On Air” light began to blink. “Good morning! It's time to
wake up, Des Moines! Colin's a bit under the weather today, but sitting beside me is Alexander Kingfield. I'll tell you a little secret about Alex.” Putting one finger over her lips, she opened her eyes wide. “He's actually a—”

“Ah, Nikki,” Alex said. “Please don't give away my secrets, or I'll be forced to tell a couple of yours.” When he turned to look at her, an unspoken challenge sparked in his eyes. She'd accomplished her goal of the moment, and he'd risen to the occasion, playing along and calling her Nikki.

The lively banter began. After a couple of false starts, Alex relaxed and held his own. He didn't stumble over his words and seemed very natural on camera. Easy charm spilled out of him in waves. He was very good at the give-and-take of interviewing and listening—a sometimes delicate balance. The hour passed quickly, and soon enough their last guests sat in the chairs between them. Nicole listened as Alex engaged the quiet man and his hysterically funny wife—local tree farm owners—in a fun discussion of the origin and uses for mistletoe.

“As a matter of fact,” Mrs. Mistletoe said, reaching into the pocket of her red jacket trimmed with white fur, “I happen to have a sprig of mistletoe right here. I always carry some and pull it out whenever I see a couple who needs to share a little smoochie.”

Nicole almost choked. Did the woman actually use the word smoochie? She should have diverted this discussion earlier. In any case, it had to stop. Now.

“May I please borrow that mistletoe?” With a wicked smile, Alex took it from the beaming woman.

Oh, oh. Too late. Rising from his—Colin's—chair, Alex moved to stand directly in front of Nicole. Taking her hand, he practically hauled her from the chair. Not wanting to make it easy for him, she flashed him a saucy grin and plopped back down. With a determined look, Alex put one hand beneath her forearm and tugged her toward him. This time, she was no match for his strength.

He lifted his arm and dangled the mistletoe above her head while her mind raced. How could she get out of kissing him on live television? To make matters worse, the crew—traitors, all of them—started clapping, cheering, and chanting, “Kiss him! Kiss her! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Were those catcalls and wolf whistles? She ignored Mrs. Mistletoe's broad wink and stifled her groan. She'd just as soon the floor beneath them opened up and swallowed her whole.

Alex's eyes, those lips, that handsome face loomed so close she could count the faint outline of the stitches on the side of his nose. Why did she feel the irrational urge to trace her finger over them? She breathed in the fresh scent of him, felt the warmth from his body. Nicole gulped, frozen, unable to move. Standing her ground, she widened her eyes as he inched his way closer—maddeningly slow—and angled his head toward her lips, coming in for the kill. Everyone else around them faded and, if it was possible, her heart would have pounded right out of her chest.

As though in slow motion, Alex planted his lips, soft and warm, on her cheek. The crew went wild. “Payback,” he whispered, resting his cheek against hers for a lingering moment. “Next time, I won't miss.”

Nicole could barely breathe, and it took everything in her not to move her hand over her stomach or her fingers over her lips. Not wanting their audience or the crew to see how deeply the moment affected her, she plastered on a smile and squared her shoulders.

Alex handed the mistletoe back to their guest before settling again in the chair.

To try and cover her embarrassment, Nicole seized the sprig of fresh mistletoe from Mrs. Mistletoe's hands. Startled, the woman jerked up her head, making her colorful, Christmas bulb earrings swing wildly back and forth like little holiday pendulums.

“I have a better idea,” Nicole said, not even sure what she was saying but needing to keep the conversation going. “I'll hold the mistletoe over your heads so you two can share a holiday kiss. Tell us, how long have you two lovebirds been married?”

From the corner of her eye, Nicole couldn't miss Alex's curious expression as their guests obliged her by hugging and sharing a chaste kiss. Thank goodness they didn't seem to mind being put on the spot.

Partially recovered, Nicole ended the segment but avoided glancing at Alex. Not that she was averse to kissing, by any means, but it should be kept private and not for public consumption. At least the incredibly handsome, free-thinking man seemed to want to kiss her. Network executive, she reminded herself. A man she shouldn't entertain the idea of kissing. Alex wouldn't tease her for the sake of ratings—would he? He had nothing to gain or lose. And what did he mean with his comment about not missing next time? A thrill of pleasure ran through her. Seemed her feelings were traitorous. Surely, he'd simply played along and gotten caught up in the moment. Yes, that must be it.

Even without Colin, the ratings for this episode would probably shoot through the roof. Their audience would love it. All because of an almost-kiss.

Lost in thought, Nicole unhooked her microphone while Alex shook hands with their guests. She should be the one thanking Mr. and Mrs. Mistletoe. How sad she couldn't recall their names, yet her stand-in co-host chatted with them like old friends.
Get it together. You're slipping.

Mike strolled across the set with an indecipherable expression—not a frown, not a smile. If anything, he looked puzzled. Stopping at the edge of the set, he slowly moved his hands together—a few quick claps and then longer ones accompanied by a wide grin. From behind him, as though waiting to see what the senior producer's reaction would be, the other technicians and stagehands also clapped.

“Brilliant, folks. Absolutely fabulous,” Mike said. “Good to shake things up every now and then, but you two make quite a team. Alex, if you're ever in town, feel free to stop by and pay us a visit. On air. We'll add a third co-host chair. Great job.” With a hearty slap on Alex's back and a quick word of thanks, Mike called to a nearby technician and departed.

Alex said nothing, but his jaw hardened as he rose from the anchor chair and removed his ear piece and microphone. Fumbling with them, he somehow got the wires twisted.

“Here, let me help you.” Nicole slid down from her chair.

“Thanks.” He avoided making eye contact and appeared a bit embarrassed. “I'm sorry, Nicole. I didn't mean to….” He stopped, apparently searching for words.

“It's fine, Alex. You did Colin proud. Mike and the crew certainly liked it. Until you came along, I probably would have flown solo on this one. I'm rather glad you were my co-pilot.” Feeling her cheeks growing warmer again, she swallowed her stupidity.

Standing still after she ordered him not to move, he thanked her as she untangled the wire. “Seems you're an expert at more than cufflinks. Tell you a secret. I didn't exactly have a horrible time out there. Once I forgot there were cameras and people watching us from their homes all over Des Moines, it wasn't so bad. You're a great sparring partner, Nikki Reardon. No wonder you're such a hit in the ratings. Not that I ever doubted it.”

“Thanks. Kind of you to say so.” Hearing her nickname from this man, it sounded more like an endearment. More personal somehow.

Alex tilted his head and gave her the impression he wanted to say more. Probably wanted to ask about the mistletoe incident, as it'd forever be branded in her mind. “I'd better get back to my office. I'll see you a little later.”

“And when would that be exactly?” If she didn't know better, she'd chastise herself for sounding this side of desperate. But they'd repeated that same question a few times since that first morning in the parking lot.

Something was happening between them. Something that warmed her all over and had nothing whatsoever to do with holiday joy. Something completely…wonderful. They were falling into habits of speech and behavior as though they'd known each other much longer. She'd never experienced that phenomenon with any other man. Not even her beloved grandfather. Not even Colin.

“How about sharing lunch?”

“I brought mine today. A girl has to save money where she can. After all, I can't afford the Maxwell Club every day.”

“Tell you what. Did you bring something you can eat in a park?”

“Yes, but the important thing is that it's freezing outside, Alex. I'm warning you—if my hands stick to my sandwich, you're the one who's prying me loose.” Nicole resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Surely, she'd used up her daily quota of completely brainless comments. That wasn't a good sign since the day wasn't half over. “Tell you what. The hotel next door to the station has a solarium, and I take my lunch over there on occasion. I'm sure they wouldn't mind. And, well, I kind of feel like I owe you.”

“Yes, you sort of do.” Alex chuckled when she mock-frowned. “Come because you want to. Not because you feel you owe me. This isn't a business lunch. It's just Alex and Nicole. Two friends sharing a meal. I'm willing to stipulate no business talk. What do you say?”

Increasingly, she couldn't refuse this man and anticipated their time together. “Then I say…yes.” Her instincts told her this could be a bad idea, but she chose not to listen.

“I'll swing by your office about noon.”

“Make it one o'clock instead, if that works for you.”

He nodded. “I'll make it work.”

With a small wave, Nicole turned to go. Pivoting a few seconds later, she met his green-eyed gaze. The man seemed to like looking at her. Not that she minded. The feeling was mutual, although it made it even more difficult to resist him. “I can order in a sandwich for you, if you'd like.”

“I'll figure out something, but thanks.”

Oh yes, his smile was all kinds of wonderful.

 

 

 

 

12

 

Thursday Evening