the customers who came into Nordstrom’s were women.
But the real reason I stared was because these two guys were fine. Both of them were tall and handsome, and wore well-fitted clothes that accentuated athletic builds. They were young, probably in their twenties. I wondered if they were clothes models who were here for a photo shoot for the holiday catalog, but they both gazed around the department store as if they were lost.
Then they saw me.
And started walking toward me with smiles on their faces.
“Hi!” said the first guy. “Are you Christie? We’re here to volunteer.”
2
Christie
I was totally speechless as the two sexy men stood in front of me. Staring deeply into my eyes. Waiting for me to say something.
“Did… Did you hear me?” asked the first guy. “I said we’re here to volunteer. You’re Christie, right?”
“Right,” I said as I snapped out of my daze. “Yes, I heard you. I’m Christie. But you already knew that, so I don’t know why I’m repeating myself. Heh.”
The first guy smiled smoothly and shook my hand. “I’m Riley. Nice to meet you.”
He was a perfect picture of handsome masculinity. Rugged brown hair, an oval face with a strong jawline, and brown eyes I could drown in. He was wearing a t-shirt with three-quarters-length sleeves that bulged with muscle, and his smile was to die for.
I must have shaken his hand for five seconds. I quickly let go and turned to the other guy. “And you are…?”
“Harper. Pleased to meet you.”
Harper appeared skinnier than Riley, but it was tough to tell because of the sweatshirt he was wearing. He had dark-red hair that was combed perfectly above a face that was smattered with freckles. His blue eyes were piercing, but his smile was small. Almost shy.
“Hmm,” Harper frowned. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Yes! I’m great. Totally fine.” I cleared my throat and glanced between them. “You’re just the first volunteers who…”
The first volunteers who are incredibly-sexy hunks, I thought.
“You’re my first volunteers,” I said instead. “The first ones today, I mean. I have some others I’ve been working with for the last week. Are you two the only ones? I thought there were supposed to be three.”
Riley and Harper looked at each other for a moment. “Hmm. Our third friend, Logan, is…”
“He’s not here,” Riley finished for him. “We don’t know where he is. He’s kind of a flake.” He cheered up and said, “But we’re here!”
“You’re fine,” I said. I realized what I had said and then added, “I mean, that’s fine. The two of you are fine for today. To help me, I mean.”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. What had gotten into me?
I went to my table and opened my notebook. “Let’s see here. According to the application you can help every Sunday and Wednesday leading up to Christmas?”
“That’s the plan,” Riley said cheerfully. “So, what is it that we’ll be doing? We love animals. Are we working with the dogs at your shelter?”
“Not quite,” I said. “This is our annual gift-wrapping fundraiser. We offer free gift-wrapping to customers after they’ve checked out.”
Riley blinked. “Free? I’m not much of a math guy, but I thought you need funds in a fundraiser…” He said it with that charming smile. It was impossible not to laugh.
“It’s technically free, but we invite customers to make a donation. We have a donation jar, as well as digital options listed on the card.”
“Hmm, that’s actually really interesting,” Harper said. His blue eyes sparkled with interest. “Studies show that people lower their price inhibitions when it comes to donations. Charging someone, say, five dollars for gift-wrapping ties the money to a specific service. But a donation gives people the positive feedback associated with charitable giving, and people are more likely to over-donate so they’re not perceived as cheap.”
“That’s right,” I said, surprised. “Very few people accept our services without donating, and we routinely get donations of ten and twenty dollars.”
“Excuse me!” Riley suddenly called out to a customer walking by. “Would you like us to gift-wrap your purchase today? It’s free.”
The customer hesitated, then softened when she saw Riley. She was old enough to be his grandmother but a deep smile spread across her face. “That would be wonderful, young man. Is this a charity?”
“We’re raising money for the Happy Bones dog shelter,” he replied smoothly. “We happily accept donations, but the gift-wrapping is one-hundred percent free.”
I watched as Riley accepted the package and then asked her what style of paper she wanted.