by Nikki Logan
“That’s okay. I brought my own.”
He glanced up at her and grinned as she pulled two packets out of her hoodie. “You didn’t bring your own candles?”
She blushed.
“You did, didn’t you?” he asked.
“I didn’t think you’d have any.”
“Traditions are important to you, aren’t they?”
“They remind me of what it was like when my parents were alive. Of course I’m not doing a Christmas tree this year because of Fizz, and because there’s just me, but for the rest I’ll try to make things festive. My mom and dad loved Christmas. And maybe because we moved around so much they loved traditions. The kind that are portable. Like what you do on gift wrapping night.”
“I never told you I was sorry that they passed away. I didn’t know them well, but I know that they were good people.”
“How could you know?”
“Your father always said hello to me, your mother once brought me a glass of lemonade when I was working outside, and I never heard anyone say anything bad about them.” He looked away slightly.
“Except your parents.”
“Well, then, that proves it. Your parents were the best.” He smiled. The fact that he could smile about it told her that he really was okay.
“Do you call them? Ever?” she asked.
“Once a year. On Christmas, as a matter of fact. It makes me feel...”
“Superior?” she guessed.
“A little,” he conceded. “Mostly it makes me realize that I moved on and they didn’t.”
“You’re the adult.”
“I don’t know about that,” he said. “Shouldn’t an adult know more about wrapping Christmas presents?”
“Well, by the time tonight is over you’ll know so much you never dreamed of,” she promised.
The look he gave her was...hot. The hoodie suddenly seemed stifling, as if it was choking her. “I’d better get those outside lights on,” she said, turning away.
“I’ll do that. The switch is outside, and you have to be a much better cocoa chef than I am.”
“Okay.”
“Good. Then, let’s get this gift wrapping party started.”
He put his hand out. She tipped her head. He motioned for her to put her hand on his and she did, her heart thudding faster. He grinned at her.
“Okay, gift wrapping coach. One, two, three, break,” he said, as they parted to go their separate ways.
“You do that often?” she asked when he returned.
He chuckled. “Actually, yes. We do a lot of team building at the office and at the plant. I want people to feel that we’re involved in a common cause and that each person is important.”
“That’s nice—that you feel each person who works for you matters and belongs,” Ella said. Trey, who had not felt a sense of belonging in his home growing up, still wanted that for other people.
He studied her for a moment. “I hope my employees think so.”
“Maybe you should ask them?” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“My parents always asked each other what they wanted. I think that was part of what made them fit so well. They knew they were on the same page. I try to do that in my work with the town, too. You’ll never know for sure what the other person wants if you don’t ask.”
Trey was studying her so intently that Ella felt as if he could see right through her hoodie to the lacy underwear she was wearing. She had a bad feeling that he was going to ask her what she wanted.
“I already know what you want. And what I want,” she said, determined to head him off. “You want to get back to your business and travels. I want the agency to find a good home for Fizz, and I want to enjoy my life here and to make a difference in the town.”
“And to find that white knight.”
“I should never have told you about my parents’ fairy tale marriage. That’s not likely to happen for me.”
“I think you’re wrong, but...”
“We’d better get started on these gifts,” she said, ending the discussion of her marital prospects. “It’s getting late, and I don’t want to disappoint the kids.”
Soon they were knee-deep in wrapping paper scraps, ribbons and bows.
Trey chuckled and gestured.
Ella looked down to see that Fizz had been frolicking in the wrapping paper scraps. An errant bow was stuck to his fur, and his nose had disappeared into one end of an empty wrapping paper roll. He was trying to sling it free.
“Here, boy. Let me help you,” Trey said. “For a free spirit like you, that must seem like jail.”
And for a free spirit like Trey had always been, her parents’ kind of love would probably feel like a prison cell, Ella reminded herself. She was beginning to like him too much, to know him in a way she hadn’t before. That made him even more dangerous to her deeply romantic soul. She could no more have Trey McFadden now than when they were teenagers.
But she could kiss him. She knew that he would let her kiss him. Only the fear that kissing him would lead to something she couldn’t handle held her back as she looked across the room and saw him gently freeing the little dog.
Once freed, Fizz looked at her as if to say, Isn’t he a wonderful person?
He is, she thought. He’s wonderful. I’d better enjoy what little time I have with him.
* * *
TREY KEPT HIS distance for the rest of the evening. Sitting in front of the fire with Ella opposite him and Fizz on her lap, he realized that everything felt different here this time. This house didn’t feel like the terrible place he’d grown up in. The fire, the woman, the dog, the music...there was a sense of contentment in the air, of anticipation.
And yet anticipation of what? Nothing had changed. He was still here just as a favor for Stuart; he was still leaving as soon as Christmas was over. Fizz would be going back to the agency, and Ella would continue in her quest to make her world and Eagleton a better place.
Maybe all he was anticipating was Christmas. Maybe that was it. The holiday had not been a happy one in his youth, but this woman and this little dog were conspiring to make this one...pleasant, comfortable, homey.
And maybe that was all he could ask for.
Well, no, he could ask for one more thing. Before he left here he was going to do some serious kissing with Ella. That woman could certainly kiss. Where on earth had she learned that here in Eagleton?
What man had claimed those lips before him? And how had the man managed to walk away?
Trey really needed to know the answer to that question.
CHAPTER NINE
TREY MIGHT NEVER have been near a lot of children before but he hid it well, Ella thought, watching him pass out the gifts to the children the next day. She had opted to bring Fizz along rather than hunt for a sitter, and when Trey or Santa got into sticky situations, such as a child asking for the impossible, Fizz was brought in as a distraction. It only took a few seconds and the child forget that he or she had even asked for some impossibly expensive gift that the down-on-their-luck parents of these children would never be able to afford.
“You’re killing ’em, Fizz,” Trey said when the party was almost over and Santa was taking a break.
Fizz gave his hand a lick, gave a little woof.
“Yeah, you know you’re a charmer, don’t you?”
He was grinning broadly. Ella was going to miss that smile. She was going to ache for it once Trey was gone. There were times when she almost wished he’d never come home. Then she wouldn’t have known what she was missing out on.
Looking at Fizz now, a thought came to her. She frowned.
“Uh-oh, that doesn’t look good. What’s wrong, love?”
She glanced up at that, but then those
teasing, flirting ways had always been part of the old Trey she remembered—the too awesome for words Trey, who’d won all the girls and hadn’t seemed to think there was anything unusual about calling every girl in sight “love.” Not that he’d ever called her that before.
But this wasn’t about her. “I was wondering...worrying, actually, if we’re doing Fizz a favor by introducing him to a lifestyle he’ll have to give up soon. All these children...look how much he loves it. But he might not be adopted by a family with children. And if not...”
“Ella,” he said, his voice gentle as he reached out and cupped her jaw, “you can’t fix everything or everyone. You can’t make life perfect for the world and for all the people you care about.”
Or for myself, she thought.
“I know. But I want to. Look how little he is, how cute.”
Trey looked. He sighed, then turned toward her, a fierce look in those gorgeous eyes. He moved closer, lowered his voice, still cupping her jaw. “I know I’ve said this before,” he whispered, so that only she could hear, “but...he could be yours.”
She shook her head, her skin sliding against his fingertips. “No. I told you. He’d be alone every day. It would be cruel. It wouldn’t be fair.”
“Or perfect,” he said.
She nodded as he slid his hand away. It was all she could do not to lean into him and ask him to keep touching her, keep talking. She loved the sound of his voice. She loved being with him, and she loved that he saw her as she was. Mostly. There had been that silly moment when he had been the old Trey, telling her that she was pretty.
“Mister?”
The childish voice caught Ella—and obviously Trey—by surprise. Both of them looked down to see a pint-size little girl with curly brown hair and big blue eyes tugging on Trey’s pants leg.
He dropped to one knee so she wouldn’t have to crane her neck. “Yes?”
“I’ve been waiting and waiting for Santa to come back but he hasn’t. They said you was his helper, so I want to know...what I want is...can I have a puppy for Christmas? I sure do want a puppy. Yours is nice. He licked my hand and he did not bite me one little bit.”
Trey looked up at Ella. “I—”
She knew what he wanted from her. He wanted to see if it would kill her to lose Fizz. The lump in her throat grew to a gargantuan size, but she couldn’t speak. She couldn’t even nod or shake her head.
He turned to the little girl. “To be honest, I don’t know if you can have a puppy. Puppies aren’t like toys. They need to be cared for. Sometimes they get sick and have to go to the doctor. You have to walk them every day even when it snows or rains. And your m—that is, whoever takes care of you would have to be cool with having a dog in the house, too. Some people have allergies or they can’t afford what a dog’s food costs.”
“So I can’t have a puppy?” The little girl sounded as if she was going to cry.
Trey looked as if would do anything to change the world for this poverty-stricken child.
That look in his eyes was what Ella needed to be able to find her voice. “He’s saying he can’t promise you that, Annie,” Ella said gently. “Your mom and dad would have to be okay with it.”
Ella knew Annie, but she hadn’t missed how Trey, not knowing the child’s family situation, had been careful not to use the words mom or dad.
Annie, looking less than happy but more hopeful, gave Fizz a quick pat. “Bye, doggie,” she said. Fizz wagged his tail.
“It’s how he says goodbye,” Trey explained.
When Annie had gone, Trey took Ella by the hand and led her to a more private place. “When we’re done here, we’re going to talk.”
“About...?”
But just then Santa returned, and Trey went back to making the children laugh and smile. Fizz worked more magic, and Ella helped the teachers ensure that everyone had enough juice and cookies, wiped mouths, cleaned up spills and shepherded four-year-olds to see Trey and Santa.
When the day was over, Trey looked beat.
“Tough stuff?” she asked.
“A little more demanding than my regular work.”
“More demanding than saving the world from environmental destruction?”
He managed a small chuckle. “Engineers, designers and environmentalists don’t whisper to me that their fish died and can I please find some way to bring him back. Or ask me to get their mommies and daddies back together again. Life can be harsh when you’re only four and have no power.”
That had been his life once. She knew that, so when they climbed in the car and Fizz was in his carrier, she reached across the seat and touched Trey’s arm. “I wish you’d had a better childhood.”
The look he gave her was deadly...or sinful.
“That does it. You and I and Fizz are going to get off the pity train and the fix Trey train right now. For the record, I wasn’t feeling sorry for myself for not having a perfect childhood. I’m fine. But some of those kids are living a really tough existence right now—and as for you, Eleanor Delancey...”
“What about me?”
“You’re determined to make sure everyone else has a perfect existence, but what about you?”
“I’m fine.”
“Hmm.”
“What does that mean?”
He grinned. “It means...let’s go make your life more perfect.” He put the car in gear and began to drive.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He was smiling.
“You’re impossible. Isn’t he, Fizz?” But Fizz had fallen asleep already. “Aw...he’s so adorable when he sleeps,” she couldn’t help saying.
Trey laughed out loud. “He’s snoring.”
“But it’s not loud snoring.”
“Okay, you win. He’s something special.”
Ella turned around, a smile on her face, and Trey drove on. When he pulled up next to a tree lot, she gave him a look. “You’re getting a tree when you’re only going to be here two more days?”
“No. You’re getting a tree.”
“Trey, Fizz will knock it over.”
“Not if we get a small one and put it up on a table. You said your parents always had one. You told me you like traditions. I’m pretty sure that in the perfect world of your imagination, every Christmas has a tree. Doesn’t it?”
“That’s an imaginary world.”
“No. It’s the world as you want it to be. It’s the world you try to create for everyone else. That’s why you want Stuart’s festival to win everyone over, and it’s why you don’t want me to regret my past—why you’re determined that Fizz will go to a home where he has company during the daytime and why you want Annie to have a dog. It’s as if you don’t believe that you can ever have your ideal world, so you live your life building perfect scenarios for everyone else. Well, this Christmas you’re going to get as close to perfect as we can make it. That means a tree. Music, cocoa, lights, a fire and all the rest.”
She studied him for a few seconds. “Is this payback?”
He blinked. “Explain.”
“You still feel guilty that you called me bad names and made me cry when we were young?”
“I made you cry?”
Uh-oh, he clearly hadn’t known that. How to backtrack?
She shrugged. “I was a seventeen-year-old girl. Everything makes you cry when you’re a teenage girl.”
He looked at her suspiciously. “This isn’t about that. It’s about some payback for all the selfless things you do for everyone. Restitution for making you cry is going to require a whole lot more than a three-foot Christmas tree.”
And now they had stepped into dangerous territory. “I don’t want—”
He looked at her.
She rushed on. “I don’t want anything from
you.”
Trey frowned. “Well, you’re at least getting a tree. It’s Fizz’s Christmas, too. His first Christmas. He darn well should have a tree to look at.”
And that was the end of that. Ella shut her mouth. They marched off and found a sweet little Balsam fir. Trey tied the little tree to the top of the car and off they went.
When they reached Ella’s house Trey waited until Ella had retrieved Fizz from the car, then he carried the tree inside. To someone who didn’t know them, they might have looked like a real family.
But of course they would never be that. She knew she had wounded him when she’d said that she didn’t want anything from him. No matter what had happened when they were younger, Trey was a man now. A generous man who cared about people. Being told that she didn’t want anything must have stung...but she couldn’t take anything from him. Even this tree was too much, because every gift, every gesture, everything he did for her sent out emotional threads that meant too much to her but were just the usual modus operandi for him. Like calling all the girls love in high school, kissing as many as he could. He was a man who spread himself around. It didn’t mean anything important or lasting.
But little things like that could mean too much for a person like her. Those little things were like emotional vines, their slender tendrils twining around her heart, tugging at it. And she was afraid that her heart would never be free once he was gone if she allowed anything to happen that would create more tendrils. But she would accept the tree. For Fizz.
“Let’s go make Christmas, Fizz,” she said.
The sound of his name on her tongue was all it took. The puppy looked much happier than either she or Trey did.
CHAPTER TEN
TREY WASN’T SURE whether the tree had been a good idea or not. Ella obviously felt strongly about not accepting anything from him. For some reason that bothered him. A lot. It threw him into the ranks of people she didn’t like well enough to accept gifts from.