“I’m blown away.” Breck offered his hand to help her up.
She took it without thinking. The moment their skin slid together, the breath whooshed out of her lungs and her knees turned to noodles. She held on tighter and pulled up, willing herself to get a grip. Breck was being a gentleman, not putting the moves on her. He had been the same way at the coffee shop. His hands were warm, strong, and safe, and they made her want to fall against his chest and see what his arms felt like wrapped around her. Those things would never happen, and she needed to get a handle on her hormones, or she’d end up a puddle on the sidewalk by the end of the magic show.
“Are you ready to get started?” he asked. His hand was on her elbow, steadying her and causing the most wonderful distraction from the rest of the world bustling around them.
“No,” she whispered. She was not ready for the feelings he stirred inside of her.
His eyebrows went up. “No?”
She chewed her lip. “I meant yes. Let’s get this show started.” Her part was pretty simple. She’d pick a volunteer out of the crowd. There was one trick that she was going to be the one to help with, but there were no special instructions. Basically, he could have done this show on his own, so she wasn’t really sure why she was there. But she’d committed to helping him, and—if things took off—she’d end up with a padded bank account. Bonus!
“Ladies and gentlemen! Holiday shoppers!” Breck’s voice boomed out across the park, drawing curious looks and several scowls. “Gather round for a bit of Christmas magic.” He threw his arm in the air, and two turtledoves took flight, appearing to come right out of his fingers.
Harmony clapped her hands. She hadn’t known he was going to do that! Several people stopped and stood several feet from the table.
Breck pulled out a linen napkin and began to fold as he talked. “I know it’s a little early, but ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas’ has always been one of my favorite songs. How about you?”
“Bah!” grumped an old man in a Russian hat that had seen better days. “Worst song ever written.”
Breck smiled easily. “I thought you might say that.” With a flourish, he turned the napkin around and revealed a paper goose. “So I only made one of these instead of six.”
The lady next to the man chuckled. “Leave him be, Ron. I want to see the trick.”
“Oh, it’s not a trick, ma’am.” Breck went around the table and handed her the goose, which she held in her palms. “If you’ll tug on his beak for me?” he asked Ron.
She nudged him with her elbow. “Do it.”
He rolled his eyes and did as she demanded. The goose melted back into a napkin, and in the middle of her hands was a beautiful gold painted pear ornament.
She gasped, and her hands dropped several inches as if the weight had suddenly appeared. “It’s beautiful.”
Breck wrapped the napkin around it and gently pushed her hands and everything towards her chest. “It’s yours. Merry Christmas.”
Her whole face lit up. “Merry Christmas!” She held the ornament to her, twisting like a child in the candy store who’d just gotten their favorite treat.
Ron smiled warmly at the joy on his wife’s face.
Harmony about swooned. This man! He was so giving. If this was just for rankings, then she’d be a nutcracker’s uncle.
Next, he made ten handkerchiefs leap and nine candy canes dance. She kept looking for wires or strings but didn’t see any. She’d told him he had talent—or weird talent—at the coffee shop, but that was an understatement. He could do some serious magic. With each trick, her mind twirled and danced.
By now, the crowd had grown to twenty or more. She beamed, thrilled for Breck. He needed to see how happy he made people.
“If my lovely assistant will please choose someone out of the crowd to help with my next trick.”
Harmony straightened. This was her one important job. Breck had told her to pick a child between the ages of six and ten. She scanned the group, finding a small boy tucked close to his mother. He was closer to the six-year-old side of things, but his eyes were as big as Christmas cookies. She made eye contact with him and motioned him forward. He didn’t glance at his mother for permission, which told her that he was caught up in the magic.
She gave him an encouraging pat on the back. “I think this young man will be perfectly capable. I sensed something special in him.”
The kid’s eyes grew even wider with wonder as they approached the table, and she had to stifle a joyful giggle. He was so stinking cute with his blue stocking hat and matching mittens dangling from strings at his wrists. She wanted ten just like him. Okay, maybe not ten, but two would do just fine.
Breck handed the boy a stack of cards. “Will you look those over and make sure there’s nothing fishy about them?”
The kid nodded and went to work, sorting through the cards, turning them this way and over.
“Well, is there anything strange?” asked Breck.
“Nope.” He handed back the deck.
