A Puppy for Christmas

by Nikki Logan

  But there were lights. In fact, almost every single house on the block was lit up with bright blue, red, green and yellow LEDs. Frowning at the mystery of the lights on his own house, he parked the rental car in the driveway and went to the door. A note was sticking to the door knocker.

  I just heard today that you were arriving and that you have agreed to be the Grand Marshall of our inaugural Christmas Festival. Hope you don’t mind the lights. If you do, just follow the cord and unplug them. E. Delancey

  Agreed? Not exactly. More like he’d been pressed into service at the last minute and had only agreed because he had a debt to pay off. As for the lights and the note...

  E. Delancey? Trey glanced next door. Wasn’t that the name of the teenage girl who had lived there when he’d left ten years ago? Maybe. Or had her mother’s name begun with an E, too? He couldn’t remember what the elder Ms. Delancey’s first name had been. What he remembered...

  “Nope. Not going there,” Trey muttered.

  The last time he and Eleanor Delancey had spoken at length—pretty much the only time they had spoken—things hadn’t ended well at all. There had been anger. Insults, embarrassment and despair. Bad memories all round. And he for one preferred not to think of that time, or of Eleanor, either. She was a milk and cookies daydreamer who believed in unicorns, princesses and happy endings, while he was something else entirely. But with a little luck their paths wouldn’t cross and they wouldn’t have to do the “polite neighbor” act during the brief week he would be here.

  Trey followed the cord of the lights. It connected to an extension cord that clearly trailed next door to the Delancey house. With one quick pull he shut off the lights. And ended any connection to E. Delancey.

  “Sorry, Eleanor,” he said with a twist of his lips as he entered the house he’d hoped never to enter again.

  * * *

  AT THREE IN the morning Ella woke with a start. She looked down at the squirming bundle of golden fur in the basket on the floor. She had made no sound, but as if he had heard her thinking, the puppy immediately sprang up and started dancing around.

  “It must have just been you that woke me, Fizz,” Ella whispered, even though the puppy hadn’t been doing anything when she awoke.

  Sometimes it was just better to believe the easiest answer was the right one. Much better than imagining pretend ghosts and ghouls. Or robbers. Because those were probably just as unlikely as her guess about the puppy. Eagleton, Illinois, was a sleepy community where everyone knew everyone and a few people still left their doors unlocked. The most likely reason she had awakened in the middle of the night with a start was the one Ella didn’t want to think about.

  Trey McFadden was coming home. And she had once been hopelessly, futilely in love with him, while he had been painfully uninterested in having anything to do with her.

  No. I wasn’t in love. It was just a crush, of course. That’s all. But—

  “Darn it, Fizz,” she said to the puppy. “Let’s get up and take you for a visit to the great outdoors. Would you like that?”

  Fizz gave a little yip and danced around as if he understood exactly what she was saying. She’d only been fostering him for two days, but already it was clear that Fizz was a lively one. He’d say yes to anything; he’d try anything; he was probably going to run her ragged before the holidays were over.

  But she smiled and shuffled downstairs with him. “Just let me get your leash,” she said, glancing out the window. With one deft move she fastened the leash on Fizz’s collar and opened the door. She glanced next door again. The lights were off. They’d been unplugged.

  “He’s here,” she said.

  Her heart raced faster; she missed a step. Unfortunately, it was the step leading down into the yard and, trying to keep her balance, she lost the leash. Instantly Fizz was off and running. He had discovered puppy freedom and he was going to make the most of it.

  “Fizz!” she called in a loud whisper, not wanting to wake the entire neighborhood. “Where are you?”

  A rustling in the bushes next door at the McFadden house was her answer. Thank goodness for the full moon. And for the flashlight she had grabbed on her way down the stairs.

  “Fizz, you get back here right this instant!” she whispered as loud and as commandingly as she could, given the fact that she was trying to be quiet...and also trying to maintain her dignity. Not an easy task in December, when she was outside in her pajamas and slippers rustling around in Trey McFadden’s shrubs.

  Not that any of that mattered. Fizz was still an untrained puppy. He didn’t yet respond to commands. To him, “Get back here” was no different than “Let’s have a party” or “Let’s dig a hole in our neighbor’s lawn.” Thank goodness there was snow on the ground. He couldn’t do much damage to the grass, and his digging enabled Ella to get close enough to catch him.

  Almost.

  As she reached down for him Fizz wagged his tail wildly, his little body squirming, seemingly overjoyed at the prospect of being held. But a slight noise sent him darting away, up the steps of the big red-brick mansion that made every other house on the block look like baby houses in comparison.

  Oh, no, he was scrabbling at the door, jumping around and yapping.

  “Fizz, stop! Come here this minute!” Her whisper was still a whisper—barely—as she ran up the stairs and grabbed the little dog. Whirling around on the concrete porch, she took the first step, making her escape.

  The metallic sound of the door opening behind her made her heartbeat click up a notch.

  “Stop right there. Don’t take another step.”

  She didn’t.

  “Not exactly prime visiting hours,” he said, his voice deathly calm. “So I suggest you tell me who you are and what you’re doing here in the middle of the night.”

  That deep voice slipped through her, and Ella shivered slightly. Her heart was pounding hard, but at least he didn’t know who she was. She still had her back to him. Now, if she could just scurry away... But...

  What was the point? He’d see her go next door, and anyway she was still holding Fizz, who was wriggling and snuffling and trying to see who was behind them. No doubt he would see the dog again during the next week. She couldn’t conceal her identity without looking like a total idiot and a cowardly sneak afterward. Which was too bad, considering...everything.

  Slowly, she turned. “It’s just me. Just Ella Delancey, your neighbor.”

  “The light lady.” He said it as if he’d never met her before. As if he’d never known her before. Which was pretty much the truth.

  She couldn’t help blushing. Thank goodness even the full moon couldn’t reveal her heightened color. “Sorry about the lights. Stuart asked me to do things up right.”

  “Stuart?” Trey said when she mentioned his cousin, the mayor.

  But at that moment the squirming puppy wriggled his way right out of Ella’s arms. She managed to break the brunt of his descent as he leaped but, seeing the open door, he made a beeline for Trey’s house, dashing past the man and disappearing inside.

  “Fizz, stop!” Ella called, her voice rising in despair as she moved to the door, then looked up into Trey’s eyes. “May I?”

  He stepped to the side slightly and she squeezed past him, her body brushing his. She was suddenly very aware that she was in worn pink flannel pajamas with white hearts parading in a line across her chest. Her long light brown hair was a tangled riot of waves. With those silv
er blue eyes studying her as if she were a lab experiment, she needed to regain her composure quickly. But first she had to capture Fizz. And she’d never been inside this house.

  “Did you see which way he went?” she asked, her voice coming out a bit too breathless as she took her soggy slippers off, leaving her in her bare feet.

  “In the back. The rooms back there connect in a circular pattern. I’ll take the right. You take the left.”

  And they would trap Fizz in the middle.

  Ella wasted no time following Trey’s directions. She could hear the scrabble of little doggie toenails on what had to be expensive wood flooring. She followed the sound, saw him, bent and scooped just as Trey slid in to do the same from the other direction. He was in his stockinged feet and went to his knees in an intentional slide. Ella had made her move a half-second before Trey, and his hands ended up cupping hers as he looked up at her and rose to his feet.

  “Do you have him?” he asked, his voice low and dark.

  “I—yes.” Her voice came out shaky. The warmth of Trey’s palms against the backs of her hand sent a sizzle of awareness through her. Immediately he moved away.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He shook his head. “Does he get out like this often? In the middle of the night?” There was a judgmental tone to his words.

  She frowned. “I don’t know. I’m just fostering him over the holidays. The shelter he was at doesn’t like people to give their puppies as gifts. Too much risk of buyer’s regret after the holidays or animals ending up with inept owners, you know?”

  He shook his head. “No. I’ve never been a pet person.”

  “Why?”

  The word slipped out without her thinking. She blinked.

  “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business.”

  It was a reminder that she had one long-ago day interfered in his business in a way he might have forgotten but she never would.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “NO SECRET. I’M not the ideal candidate for the responsibility of long-term relationships, and a pet is definitely both a responsibility and a long-term commitment. As you said, no one wants to deal with buyer’s remorse. I don’t take on what I won’t keep.”

  She nodded tightly, wondering how many women he had walked away from, how much buyer’s remorse he’d avoided. With his dark good looks and those broad shoulders, women would want him even if he didn’t want them back.

  And the mere fact that she was wondering that meant she had stayed too long. It was far too late and it was time to get out. Fast.

  “Well...thank you,” she said. “I’ll just get back to my house. And I’ll be more careful with Fizz in the future.”

  She moved back toward the front of the house.

  “Eleanor.”

  Her name on his lips stopped her. She turned around again.

  “Why the lights? Why did Stuart ask you to do things up right? I know it’s Christmas, but...an entire block blazing like a multi-colored flock of fireflies?”

  She shook her head, her long hair sliding over her shoulders. “It’s the festival. This is Stuart’s first year in office. He only won the election by a few votes, so he feels he has something to prove. He hopes having the festival and doing it up right will bring people together in a way they haven’t been for a long while. The festival has to be perfect. The town has to look like the type of old-fashioned Christmas scene we all have in our minds.”

  He blinked. She knew what he was thinking. He wasn’t one of those people who coveted old-fashioned Christmases.

  “All right,” he said. “I get that. But...why were you the one decorating my house?”

  This time she didn’t even have to try to read his mind. She had once interfered in his life. Or tried to. He was afraid she was doing that again.

  She opened her eyes wide. “Don’t think what you’re thinking. I’m not seventeen and a ridiculous idealist anymore. I don’t intend to do anything that would concern you. But I have a duty. It’s part of my job as Stuart’s assistant. I’m in charge of the festival.”

  “So...I’ll be taking my marching orders from you?”

  “I wouldn’t put it that way. You’re the Grand Marshall—the guest of honor.”

  “Who was called in last minute when someone else canceled.”

  Ella hoped she wasn’t blushing again. She shrugged. “You were Stuart’s first choice, but I—I knew the other person and you—”

  “I wasn’t likely to be willing?”

  “Yes.” She didn’t add that she hadn’t wanted to ask him any more than he had wanted to come. She had managed not to think of him for a long time. Now here she was in her pajamas, in his house, feeling...awkward, girlish, uncomfortable...as if she was lacking in some way. He had always made her feel that way. She hated that. She really wished that Stuart had chosen someone else and that Trey had stayed away forever.

  But that couldn’t matter. Things were what they were, and she had spent a lifetime learning to deal with less than ideal circumstances.

  “But when my ballet dancer broke her leg Stuart promised that he could talk you into coming. And you’re here. I...appreciate you coming on such short notice.”

  He shrugged. “It’s Stuart, and I owe him. Although I think this will settle my debt. Five days of activities before we even get to the Christmas Eve parade?”

  She couldn’t help blushing. “It has to be big, but more than that it has to be meaningful.”

  Trey crossed his arms over his chest. “And you’ll be...directing me?” His voice was deceptively calm, but she could tell that he wasn’t happy. Darn the man for looking sexy even when he was angry.

  And darn her for feeling even more awkward than she had before. She wished she was wearing more clothes. As it was, she pulled herself up to her full height and stared up at him. The man was far too tall.

  “As Grand Marshall you’ll be expected to show up to a few events.”

  “A few. I see. And those events are...?”

  She wanted to look away, and because she wanted that so badly she forced herself to keep staring. “A party at a local preschool where most of the children are underprivileged, a walk-around to visit with the local business people, and a presentation on the history of the town.”

  “Damn Stuart. I’m not the guy for this kind of thing.”

  “You’re balking? No, you can’t do that. Trey, I know this isn’t the way you’d like to spend Christmas, but Stuart needs this and so does this town. Eagleton has been hit hard by the loss of the auto-parts factory. The people need a good Christmas, and you’re a war hero, a homegrown son who made a success after he left the military. It would mean so much to them just to be able to shake your hand. If you’re uncomfortable with any of this I’ll be a resource. I’m good at hand-holding.”

  As if to demonstrate, she reached out, just stopping before reaching his arm.

  Her breath stopped. She had Fizz in a football hold beneath the other arm, but for once even he was still. Trey looked down at her hand.

  “No hand-holding needed,” he said quietly. “I’ll do my part.”

  And clearly he wished he could do it without her.

  “Don’t worry, Mr. McFadden, I’m not as impulsive as I once was. Despite my slipup earlier tonight, I don’t butt in where I’m not wanted anymore. I’m a complete professional these days.”

  He raised one dark eyebrow and raked his glance over the hearts on her pink pajamas. Beneath those hearts was nothing but her bare breasts. Somehow she managed to keep staring at him as if she hadn’t noticed his insolent look at all.

  “I meant that. Do not underestimate me, Trey. I’m not the girl I used to be.” She tromped off, slipped her bare feet into her wet slip
pers at the door and, pulling back the massive door, stepped into the still dark night. She glanced back over her shoulder. “Tomorrow I’ll be back to fill you in on the details of the week. At ten o’clock sharp. Be ready.”

  For some reason he seemed to find that amusing. His lips lifted in a slight smile.

  “What?” she asked. “I didn’t say anything funny.”

  He shook his head. “You’re right. You didn’t. But I’ve never been lectured by a woman wearing fuzzy bunny slippers before.”

  “You’ve probably never been lectured by any woman before.”

  “Not true. It’s happened before.” From the tone of his voice she was pretty sure that it had happened in the most intimate of situations.

  That wasn’t going to be what this was like. She was over Trey McFadden.

  “Tomorrow,” she said, “I’ll go over the details of the schedule. Then, if you’re fine with that, you can be on your own for the rest of your time here. Good night.”

  Trey gave her a curt nod.

  Fizz, who had been quiet through most of this, gave a little puppy woof. Just as if he knew what was going on and was saying goodbye.

  “Forget it,” she told him as they made their way back to their own tiny house. “He doesn’t like dogs.”

  Fizz wagged his tail.

  “And don’t go trying to win him over, either,” Ella warned. “Don’t go all puppy on me. I had planned on being completely businesslike with Trey, from my grey suit down to my sensible ballet flats and stoic exterior. Because of you I ended up wearing nothing but pajamas with my hair wild and crazy. That’s not happening again. So no funny stuff, Mister Fizz. I have my job, he has his, and your job is to be a quiet, happy puppy—who stays in his own yard. Because the less we think about Trey McFadden the better.”

  Fizz wagged his tail, then wriggled over and tried to curl his little body around her leg.