She watched him watch her. Butterflies danced in her midsection, and she felt dizzy. Before she did or said something she’d regret, she turned away and walked to the back of the store, where she had a display of Christmas music boxes. She felt his presence before turning to face him. “These are exclusive to Razzle Dazzle. We’re the only store in North Carolina that sells these, so the chance of your friend having received one as a gift is slim to none. Of course, if you’re new to the area, and your friend has friends who might shop here, then, well . . .” Good grief! What in the name of Pete is wrong with me? She was sounding like a thirteen-year-old who’s just come face-to-face with her first crush. She felt heat rise to her cheeks.

He leaned in to examine each music box. “Exquisite.” He actually looked at the price tag located on the bottom. “Exquisite price, too,” he added.

Another gush of heat rose to her cheeks. “Yes, but worth every penny,” she managed to squeak out.

“Actually, I was thinking they’re worth much more than you’re selling them for.”

Surprised, she was at a loss for words. Lauren couldn’t recall any customer she’d had in the past three years telling her their prices weren’t high enough.

“Personally, I would double the price,” he added as he ran a large, well-manicured hand across the globe of one of the more expensive music boxes. “I’ll take all of them. How quick can you have them wrapped?”

“What? You want all of them?” Her heart sank even more; whoever the recipient of this gift was had to be someone super-special. She casually glanced to see if he wore a wedding band, which nowadays didn’t mean much, but still, she couldn’t help herself. His ring finger was minus any jewelry. “It will take a couple of hours if you want them packed for shipment, but if you just want them in their boxes, gift-wrapped, I can have them ready in about an hour.”

“Perfect,” he said, whipping out his wallet. “Gift-wrapped will be fine.”

Lauren mentally tallied the total and decided that if she didn’t make a sale the rest of the month, this alone would match half of what she’d added to Razzle Dazzle’s business account.

“Sure. You can pay me when I finish wrapping them,” she said. “Did you want to wait?”

Part of her hoped he would, and another part of her wished he would leave, give her a few minutes to calm her rapid heartbeat. Brush her hair. Put on mascara. And lip balm.

“You said an hour?”

“Yes, to gift-wrap them.”

“Is there a place a guy can grab breakfast around here? I could use a bite to eat.”