He would go upstairs and do just what he had mentioned to Lyssa—start checking under beds and in closets and anywhere else a small boy could find a comfortable sleeping spot. With luck, he’d have Tommy downstairs again in just a few minutes.
Without luck… There were options. There were always options. Troubleshooting had taught him that. But they weren’t always options people wanted to face. Right now, he didn’t want to face his, either.
Ambling through the living room so as not to draw Mollie’s attention, Nick detoured on his way upstairs to check out the first floor bathroom. With only a pedestal sink and a small wall cabinet, there was nowhere to look but behind the shower door, a pointless effort since he could see through the frosted glass that no little boy slept in the bathtub.
Upstairs, he went systematically through the rooms, trying not to let the tension get to him as, one by one, he eliminated each bedroom, closet, and bathroom.
In the hall, he ran his gaze over the ceiling and the trapdoor to an attic or crawlspace. But there was no furniture or anything else set beneath the door and no way anyone, let alone a five-year-old, could have reached the ceiling without standing on something.
Not a sign of the kid. Where the hell was he?
When he ran out of places to look, he did what Lyssa had done and began going through everything again—like Santa, making a list and checking it twice.
And still, he was coming up empty-handed.
Finally, he made his second sweep through the largest space, the bedroom and bathroom of Michael’s master suite. He checked every drawer in the freestanding armoire and the space below all the racks of hanging clothes in the closet. He even checked the clothes hamper, as he had done in the other bathrooms. No little boy.
His directions to Brent included tracking him down immediately if he discovered any sign that Tommy had been outside. By this point, he knew the teen had nothing to report. A glance through the bay window overlooking the front of the property confirmed it. Outside, weak sunshine fell across the front lawn, revealing snow as unbroken as that at the back door.
The sunshine, even paler as it filtered into the room through the window, showed him the cushion on the window seat below was slightly crooked. One edge of the cushion hung slightly over the seat.
He raised the cushion and saw the space, like a wide crack, that ran horizontally just beneath the lip of the wooden seat. Slowly, he raised the seat… And found the boy he was seeking.
He swallowed a sigh of relief.
Tommy jumped up from his hiding place like a jack-in-the-box. He was grinning broadly and didn’t look as though he was suffering from his time spent inside the seat. In fact, the space looked large enough for him to have stretched out comfortably while he waited for his hiding place to be discovered. A decorative carved inset across the front panel of the window seat had allowed him plenty of air.
“I knew you would find me, Mr. Nick!” Tommy laughed and clapped his hands.
“And so I did. But what are you doing up here?” A lecture on the dangers of small hiding places would wait for another time. “Didn’t you know Miss Lyssa and I would be worrying about you?”
“I hided—but I had to,” Tommy said quickly. “Because I told Mollie you’re Santa, and she said no.”
He frowned. “Mollie knew you were hiding?”
“Huh-uh.” Tommy shook his head vigorously. “I hided all by myself. And now I know you are Santa, ’cause Santa knows everything. Only Santa could find me. And you did.”
Not bad logic for a five-year-old. Despite his concern, Nick had to swallow a smile. But he was going to have to give the kid a taste of reality. Keeping the boy’s belief in Santa intact was one thing. Letting him believe he was the Jolly Old Elf was another thing altogether.
He could just imagine Tommy sharing that news with Lyssa. She didn’t want him buying gifts for the kids’ parents, for crying out loud. How would she take learning he had passed himself off as Santa Claus?
“I’m sorry to tell you, Tommy, but I’m not Santa.”
“But you were at the party. You wore Santa’s suit.”
“That, I did, yes. But I was… I am Santa’s helper, like Miss Elf.” Lyssa could hardly object to that, could she? “I fill in for Santa when he’s busy somewhere else. You’re right in a way, though,” he had to admit, maybe because his recent conversation with her was still fresh in his mind. “I am a little like Santa Claus, too.”
“How?”
“Because, like Santa, I love giving gifts to people.” Well, buying gifts to give to people.
“Why?”
“Well…” Maybe Tommy would believe in the sentiments. Lyssa sure hadn’t. “Because when you buy someone a gift, it shows how much you care about them. Also because gifts make people happy.”
“Like my mommy?”
“Exactly.”
“D’you think my mommy will like the orman— the ormer— the Christmas star I made her?”
“Sure, she will. It’s the best Christmas star I’ve ever seen.”
Tommy grinned again.
“Okay, kid.” He ruffled the boy’s hair, then reached down to lift him out of the window seat and set him on the floor. “We’d better get downstairs and join the rest of the musketeers.”
“All for one,” Tommy chanted.
“And one for all,” he agreed. He turned to leave the room.
Lyssa stood in the doorway.
Tommy noticed her then, too. “Hi, Miss Lyssa. I was hiding but Mr. Nick finded me.”
“Yes, I see that.” She smiled at him. “Why don’t you go downstairs with Mollie and Brent? They’re in the kitchen. Brent’s making hot chocolate, and I’m sure you’d like some, too, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes!” He ran across the room and past her into the hallway.
In the quiet, his shoes slapped loudly against the bare wood floor. Seconds later, his footsteps pounded down the stairs.
“Thanks for coming to the rescue,” Lyssa said.
“No problem. It’s what I do.” He smiled. “‘All’s well that ends well,’” he quoted.
“I hope so.” For a moment, she looked steadily at him, her expression unreadable. Then she turned and left the room.
Abruptly, he stopped smiling. Her borrowed bedroom slippers didn’t make any noise on the floor, but just like Tommy, she seemed eager to get back downstairs.
To get away from him?
He shook his head. Obviously, even being the hero of the hour again didn’t make him look like much in her eyes.
Chapter Thirteen
A snowball flew toward Lyssa, hit her arm, and exploded.
Tommy exploded, too, into laughter at having such good aim.
“Oh, this means war,” she threatened, scooping up a handful of snow and loosely packing it.
The snowball fight had been Tommy’s idea.
It was Nick who had come to her in the kitchen after lunch and asked her thoughts about taking the kids outside for a while. She had been grateful to him, first because he’d consulted her before mentioning it to the kids, and second because she needed to get out of the house as much as they did.
She was starting to get cabin fever. And she desperately wanted to do something that would keeping her moving, that would prevent her from sitting and thinking too much. About Nick.
She tossed her snowball at Tommy, and even she had to laugh when he shrieked and pretended to be knocked off his feet. Flailing his arms, he deliberately tumbled backward to sit in a snowdrift.
“Angels!” Mollie yelled. “Let’s make snow angels!”
“That’s for girls,” Tommy objected.
“It is not.”
“Is, too. Isn’t it, Mr. Nick?”
Nick tilted his head, pretending to consider. “I’d say it’s for whoever wants to be one. But if someone doesn’t want to be a snow angel, they could do something else.”
“Like what?”
“Like…be a snow vampire.”
“A
vampire? Show me how!”
“All right.” Nick crunched his way to an unbroken expanse, dropped to a seated position, then lay against the snow. She was glad his ankle seemed to be back to normal and equally happy he had agreed to wear the ski suit she had found in Michael’s closet.
At lunchtime, Nick and Mollie had been much more talkative than at breakfast.
She had been the quiet one at the table. She would force herself to focus on the conversations, then her mind would wander from one worry to the next. Her fear after she had discovered she couldn’t find Tommy. Her unease about Mollie and the reason for her moods. Her concern about how the kids would react when, tonight, they would hang up their stockings for Santa and it would hit them, once and for all, that they would be spending Christmas Day here at the lodge and not with their families.
And, most often, her worries had run to her confused and conflicting and uncontrollable thoughts about Nick.
Tommy watched as Nick demonstrated making a snow vampire by putting his hands on his shoulders, then sweeping his arms out wide and not quite completely down to his sides.
Nick stood. “That’s the vampire in his cape, see?”
“Yes, I see. Me, too!” Tommy cried.
Nick moved to another smooth patch of snow. “All right, turn around, hold your arms out to your sides, and fall back. I’ll catch you.”
Without hesitation, the little boy did as instructed.
Seeing how much trust Tommy put in Nick made her doubt her convictions. So had overhearing what he had said to Tommy about giving gifts to make people happy. Maybe she had read Nick wrong. Maybe he was simply what he wanted her to believe him to be: a good man who cared more about people and less about possessions and making money than she had thought.
Maybe she hadn’t been wrong to get caught up in the magic of him when they had met at Christmastime a year ago.
To her surprise, as she was beginning to see, there were many more layers to him than she had thought possible. And she had already fallen in love with more than a few of them.
“What are you making, Miss Lyssa?” Tommy asked.
She started, bringing her attention back to her surroundings. She hadn’t given a snow figure much thought. “I don’t know yet.”
“What can Miss Lyssa be, Mr. Nick?”
“Anything she wants to,” he said promptly, brushing loose snow from his dark hair.
She smiled at him for the kids’ sake. And maybe for her own.
All right, definitely for her own. And for the sheer pleasure of watching him smile in return.
“You should be a princess,” Tommy decided for her. “In a princess dress.”
“Hmm. I’m not sure I know how to do that.”
“Mr. Nick will show you.”
Automatically, her gaze flew to Nick. The little boy had put such faith in him. Why couldn’t she?
“You’ll need a little help,” he said.
She hesitated, then floundered through the deep snow until she reached his side.
He took her by the hand and walked to another patch of pristine snow a yard or two away. “Now, same as Tommy, turn around, fall back, and let me catch you.”
“I don’t know…”
“You have to, Miss Lyssa. I wanna see the snow princess.”
“Me, too,” Brent said. He looked at her, blank-faced, but she could see the smile tugging at his lips.
Even Mollie, a few yards away, paused in the act of making another angel to see what would happen next.
Nick stared at her, his dark gaze meeting hers, his arms held out steadily, and still she wasn’t sure she could trust herself to take that free-falling plunge.
“Maybe Miss Lyssa’s a ’fraidy-cat,” Mollie said smugly.
Lyssa couldn’t help but laugh and, after a moment, Mollie did, too.
“Well, I’m glad I borrowed Miss Amber’s ski suit. All right. Here goes.” She turned her back to Nick, closed her eyes, and let herself fall.
He caught her firmly beneath her arms and lowered her to the snow. “Okay, don’t move,” he ordered. He walked away from her, out of her range of vision overhead.
She craned her neck, trying to see what he was up to.
“No moving,” he cautioned. “You’ll mess things up.” Keeping a wide expanse of snow between them, he moved in a half circle around her, ending up a few yards from her feet. Then he walked in a straight line toward her, knelt down with his knees straddling hers, and placed his hands at her waist.
Frowning, she shot a glance toward the kids, then back at Nick.
“Just trust me, Lyssa,” he murmured. “I’m only doing what Tommy asked for. Giving you a dress fit for a princess.” From her waistline, he swept his arms out and down in two wide swaths, ending with a flip of his hands in the snow. “Done.” He took her hands and stood, pulling her upright with him. Then he reached around her and lifted her into his arms. “Fewer footprints this way,” he said with a grin.
Slowly, he backed away, retracing his footsteps in the snow. A few yards from the figure, he set her on her feet again. He left his arm draped around her shoulders and turned her to see what he had done.
The snow near her head had been brushed aside when she had turned to search for him. “You told me I would mess things up,” she said, “but with a bit of squinting, that looks like I’m wearing a crown.”
“It does, doesn’t it? That just shows you what amazing things can happen when people compromise.”
She stared at him for a long moment, feeling as though she might get lost in the depths of his dark eyes. Tommy rushed up to stand beside them, breaking the spell. She looked back at the figure.
The outline of her arms and shoulders made a crisp indentation in the snow. The broad sweeps he had made, beginning at her waist and ending with the fancy flips on either side of her feet, flowed softly around her like the gown of an antebellum miss—or the dress of a regal princess.
Tommy clapped his hands. “Good job, Mr. Nick!”
“Yes, good job,” Lyssa said, looking up at him. “It’s beautiful.”
“So are you.” He squeezed her shoulders, smiled, and stared down at her, his dark eyes now twinkling like Saint Nick’s.
Their playtime outside called for more hot chocolate by the fire. Lyssa filled mugs and transferred the leftover chocolate into a large carafe that she left on the breakfast bar for Nick to carry. In the living room, all three kids settled down to play cards at the coffee table. Until she handed out the mugs and turned to give Nick his, she hadn’t realized he had stayed behind in the kitchen.
After making sure the kids were still intent on their game of War, Lyssa slipped away.
Nick stood at the sink, rinsing the pot and spoon she had used to make the chocolate.
Outside earlier, standing with his arm wrapped around her, she hadn’t felt a bit cold. Watching him at the sink now, doing something so homey and sweet, made her feel all warm and fuzzy.
But simply looking at him left her with the best feelings of all. Of being in love and in lust and very sure of what she planned to do.
This was Christmas Eve, wasn’t it? This was the season of magic and miracles.
She took a deep breath and walked to Nick’s side. “I could have taken care of that,” she said quietly.
Smiling, he looked down at her. “I like to feel I’m carrying my weight around here.”
“And mine, too?” As she had hoped, he laughed. He was thinking of when he’d held her outside, too.
“Sweetheart,” he drawled, “trust me, you’re a lightweight.” He moved to stand in front of her, resting his hips against the sink and placing his hands at her waist.
Without the bulk of her borrowed ski suit, she could feel the warmth of his fingers through the weave of her sweater.
He tightened his grip slightly. “I could lift you up, as easily as I’m standing here.”
“Could you?”
“I could. But I could also think of something much more fun. I c
ould stand here and hold you.” He slipped his arms around her. “Pull you close.” He tugged gently until just a few inches separated them. “I could do what I’ve been wanting to do all day.” He lowered his head and brushed her mouth with his.
The warmth spreading through her went up a degree or ten. Her heart thumped. Her pulse raced. All this, even before he had kissed her thoroughly.
His idea of a thorough kiss shook her clear down to her slippers.
It brought back memories. Memories of the days they had dated…the dreams she had built around them both…the months they had been apart.
The time they had wasted.
She pulled back slightly to meet his eyes. They looked darker and more devastating than she had ever seen them, and the sight made her more certain of what she wanted to say.
Before she could speak, he pulled her closer again. Well…magic and miracles wouldn’t disappear in the space of a heartbeat. She closed her eyes and lost herself in his kiss.
“Mr. Nick…”
Her eyes flew open again in surprise. She jerked away from Nick, barely registering the startled look on his face before she turned to the kitchen doorway.
Mollie stood there, open-mouthed, staring back at them. She held a mug brimming with hot chocolate, and her cheeks blushed bright red.
“Mollie—” Lyssa began.
But the girl set the mug on the counter beside her, sloshing chocolate onto the surface, and ran from the room.
“Oh great.” She started forward.
Nick put his hand on her arm. “Let’s wait a few minutes. Give her some time to herself. She’s embarrassed for walking in on us.”
She shook her head. “No, she’s upset because she walked in and you were kissing me. She’s crushing on you, and we’ve just broken her heart.”
“Come on, she’s a kid. Maybe she’s got a case of hero-worship, like Tommy does, because she thinks I’m Santa, but—”
“No, she knows you’re not Santa. She’s known it all along. It’s a crush.” She laughed, feeling her cheeks flush the way Mollie’s had. “I ought to recognize the signs. I’ve been there, done that with you.” She took a deep breath and released it. “Nick, I’ve also done a lot of thinking about what you’ve said about compromise. And you’re right. There’s no reason we can’t work together. No reason we can’t have a relationship, if we’re willing to meet halfway. I am, if you are.”
Snowbound with Mr. Wrong (Snowflake Valley) Page 12