“What did you do on that break?”

“I took care of her,” she admitted. “No need to gloat.”

“I’m not gloating.” He pulled up a wooden stool and sat in front of her. Then he lifted her foot into his lap.

Angi had already started to relax into the small couch’s soft cushions but immediately stiffened and tried to jerk away her leg. “What the—”

“Relax,” he told her, and flipped off the clog she wore during waitressing shifts. “Let me take care of you, just for a few minutes.”

“Don’t you have boughs of holly to—” She broke off with a moan of pleasure as he pressed his thumb into the bottom of her stockinged foot, kneading the arch. “Oh, that’s nice.”

“Relax,” he said quietly and, despite her misgivings, she did. How could she do anything else when his hands worked their magic on her sore feet. There was nothing overtly sexual about the touch, but it felt intensely intimate just the same. “There was an issue with Gran’s decorations.”

“She has too much mistletoe?”

Gabe’s gaze took on a wolfish gleam, and Angi did her best not to squirm under it. “Just the right amount of mistletoe. But she had most of her newer decorations in the garage in cardboard boxes, some of which have water damage. I’m guessing that corner flooded during the huge storm this summer. I was so busy shoring up the house that I didn’t realize it. So now I’m left with the older stuff I found in the attic. Most of the decorations look like they date back to circa nineteen seventysomething or even older. I guess I can drive up to one of the big-box stores in Raleigh and load up on decorations before Friday. I don’t think kitschy retro is the theme most businesses in Magnolia focus on for the holidays. Hell, I’m not sure what people do with strings of silver or color wheels.”

Angi smiled. “That’s tinsel. My mom always complained that it multiplied worse than Easter grass.”

“I understood about a tenth of what you said there.” Gabe paused in the act of lifting her other leg into his lap.

“You just keep up with the massage.” Angi rubbed her hands together. “I think we can work with what your grandmother has on hand. A retro Christmas theme with all of her vintage stuff. Think about how happy it will make her to step back in time and see all decorations she’s collected over the years.”

He stared at her for a long moment, then looked down at her feet again. She noticed that his fingers trembled as he massaged.

“Gabe, what is it?” She pulled her legs off him and slipped back into her shoes. “What’s wrong? If you want to get new—”

“She’ll love it,” he said gruffly, and she could hear the emotion in his voice. Despite his size, the scruff covering his jaw and his obvious strength, she suddenly had a memory of the sweet, sensitive boy she’d met all those summers ago. The one who seemed uncertain about everything other than how much he loved his grandmother.