Her Holiday Man

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Her Holiday Man Page 8

by Shannon Stacey


  She was just turning off the basement light when a knock sounded on the kitchen door. Frowning, she pulled the basement door closed and walked over to pull back the curtain. She never had company, and neither Gail nor Nathaniel would knock.

  It was Will.

  The wind had picked up, and his cheeks were pink as he blew into his hands to keep them warm. When he saw her in the window, he raised an eyebrow as if to ask why she was staring at him instead of letting him inside where it was warm. Since she had no excuse other than the fact she liked looking at him, she let him in.

  “Thanks,” he said, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I was halfway across the street when I realized the sun was a big lie meant to lure me outside without a coat or gloves.”

  “Would you like a coffee or hot cocoa?” she asked. Years of being Robert’s hostess made the offer a reflex.

  “I won’t be here that long.”

  Of course he wouldn’t. Since the day they’d decorated the Broughton Christmas tree and had that moment in the kitchen, they’d been dancing around each other and one of them always found an excuse to be somewhere else before the tension got too heavy.

  “There was an incident with a bag of sugar,” he said. “Mom sent me over to see if you have an extra bag. Or at least a few cups.”

  Christina cringed. “Did the sugar incident have Nathaniel’s name on it?”

  “No.” He winced. “It was me, which is why I’m the one here begging for more sugar after cleaning up the three-quarters of a bag I knocked into the sink full of hot, soapy water.”

  She couldn’t help laughing at his chagrined expression and, after a few seconds, he joined in. It was too easy to imagine Gail’s reaction to the mess and see her shooing her son out to scavenge for more sugar.

  “I was going to run to the store,” he said, “but she said she was halfway through her grocery list and there was no sense in wasting the gas if you have sugar to spare.”

  “I do have some, so you’re in luck. I bought extra when I went shopping because Nathaniel and I have been doing more baking.”

  “Like brownies?” he asked, his voice hopeful.

  “We baked some yesterday, although as amazing as Gail’s baking is, I’m not sure why you like my brownies so much.”

  He shrugged and reached into the goody jar she pointed to on the counter. “My mom’s brownies are light and fluffy, almost like cake. Yours are chewier and...fudgier.”

  “And from a mix,” she confessed, but he didn’t seem to care as he took a bite.

  She took one herself since the jar was open, and their gazes locked as they devoured the brownies. His eyes were warm and slightly amused, and she realized that since she’d moved to the goody jar, they were standing very close to each other.

  And he had chocolate on his lip.

  Christina stared at the speck of brownie and then felt a shudder of desire through her core when his tongue flicked out and snagged it. She knew she should look away from his mouth, but she’d spent too much time lately imagining what those lips would feel like against hers.

  For a long time now, she’d been so hurt and life had been so hard, she wasn’t sure she’d ever want a man again. She should be thrilled that Robert’s actions hadn’t killed her desire forever, but why did it have to be now and with this man?

  Was it her imagination or had he moved closer to her? She lifted her gaze to his eyes. The warmth there conflicted with the slightly furrowed brow, suggesting he was experiencing the same inner turmoil she was. The need for the kiss was there between them, but they both knew it was such a bad idea.

  Just as she told herself to back up and put a little more space between them, he lifted his hand and touched her face. He ran his thumb down the line of her jaw, and the gesture was so unexpectedly sweet and gentle, she turned her face into it.

  When his lips touched hers, she sighed and surrendered to his kiss. Like his touch, it was gentle at first. Almost hesitant. But when she pressed her hands to his back, holding him close, he deepened the kiss.

  He tasted like chocolate and she opened her mouth to him, letting his tongue slip between her lips. His hands were at her waist and his fingers tightened as he nipped at her bottom lip.

  Then he pulled away and the disappointment was almost as sharp as the desire she’d been swept up in. She knew him well enough to see the storminess in his expression and she wanted to say something casual and flip to take the seriousness out of the kiss. But the words wouldn’t come, so she just stepped away.

  “I should get that sugar for you,” she said, and she wasn’t surprised when he didn’t respond. Christina dug in her pantry and handed him an entire unopened bag of sugar. “Just take the whole thing and Gail can replace it when she goes shopping.”

  He took it from her and nodded. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “It’s no big deal,” she lied, and fairly convincingly she thought. “When Nathaniel’s done helping your mom, you can just send him across the street. I’ll be pretty busy today.”

  “Okay.” He started for the door, and then stopped and looked back at her. For a moment he looked like he was going to say something important, but then he just nodded again. “Thanks for the sugar.”

  Once the door had closed behind him, Christina leaned against the counter and put her fingertips to her mouth. Maybe he shouldn’t have kissed her, as he said, but she couldn’t help being glad he had.

  She just wished he didn’t have to look so unhappy about it.

  * * *

  After breakfast the next day, Will fired up Big Red and leaned against the wall as she idled, her engine running just as well as it had the day he’d bought her. Then he took his old, rusted ramps and set them against his tailgate. After attaching the safety straps to the truck, he loaded the three-wheeler into the bed of his truck and killed the engine.

  By the time he had the ramps stowed under the machine and had tied everything down with ratchet straps, his mom had come out of the house to see what he was doing.

  “You’re not going for a ride on that thing, are you?”

  “I’m going to Bloom’s for a few minutes. I won’t be long.”

  “Did Scottie finally talk you into selling that monstrosity to him?” She’d hated Big Red since the day she laid eyes on it, certain her only son was going to break his fool neck.

  “Something like that.”

  She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. “Why now?”

  “I’m going to trade for some building materials, if you must know.”

  “What could you possibly be building at this time of year?”

  He rested his arms on the top of the bed and looked over the truck at her. “Can you keep a secret?”

  “Probably.” When he just shook his head and waited, she caved. “Yes, I can keep a secret. I promise.”

  “I’m getting the stuff so Nathaniel can build his mom a hope chest for Christmas. With my help, of course.”

  His mom looked at him for a long time, her usually open expression unreadable. He hated when she did that, and it took all of his will power not to squirm. Maybe Christina had told her about the kiss, although if she had, his mom probably wouldn’t have been able to help saying something by now.

  “It’s a special thing,” she said finally, “a woman’s hope chest.”

  “And the bastards took hers. Nathaniel told me she cried in the bathroom and he wished she had another one.”

  “It means something, Will.”

  He held up his hand to stop her. “Her son is building her a hope chest. Sure, I’m donating the materials. But he’s going to do most of the work and it will be a gift from that boy to his mother. That’s it. And she deserves it.”

  “You’ve always had a good heart.” She turned and went back inside without sayi
ng anything else.

  No, he didn’t. He’d gone and kissed the last woman on the planet he had any business kissing, and he’d gone and done it right before Christmas. If he caused tension with Christina that affected his mom’s first holiday without his dad, he’d never forgive himself. It was best he throw himself into a task that would not only make a little boy happy, but keep himself too busy to get himself into any more trouble.

  Will drove into town and parked in front of the hardware store so Scottie would be able to see the back of his truck from behind the counter and then, after a last look at the three-wheeler that simply confirmed he was doing the right thing, he went inside.

  “Hey, Will. How’s things?”

  “Good. Been picking up some work at Tony’s place.”

  “Heard that. He’s probably glad to have the help. I know he’d been turning away some jobs because he couldn’t do them himself anymore. What are you after today?”

  “I’ve got a list,” he said, pulling it out of his back pocket.

  Scottie looked over the list of supplies Will had scrawled on the back of a grocery store receipt. “This is quite a list. Hope chest?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The oak will be pricey enough, but when you add in the cedar...” Scottie shook his head. “We’ve been friends since the sandbox, so I’m going to be straight with you. To fill this order, I’m going to send my helper to Home Depot and buy the stuff and then mark it up and sell it to you. As much as I appreciate your business, you’ll save a lot of coin by cutting me out of it and going yourself.”

  That was the kind of honest business that had kept Bloom’s Hardware going for a fourth generation. “Yup. But they like cash up front.”

  “We stopped selling on credit a few years back. Things are too tight now, even for an old friend.”

  “Not asking for credit.” Will nodded his head toward the door and Scottie craned his neck to see what he was getting at.

  “Is that Big Red in the back of your truck?”

  “It is.”

  Scottie looked for a minute and then turned his gaze back to the list. “I think we can work something out. I’ve been trying to get you to sell me that beast for years. Whoever’s getting this hope chest must be pretty special.”

  She was, but Will didn’t say it out loud. “With Christmas around the corner, it goes without saying I’d prefer what I’m up to not get around town.”

  “Not a problem. I work alone on Sundays, but I can have this stuff for you tomorrow by noon?”

  “Sounds good. I’m working tomorrow until about one, so I’ll swing in after.”

  The next day, when Nathaniel got off the bus, Will took him into the garage and showed him the stack of supplies. “Guess what you’re going to build.”

  The boy frowned, staring at the pile of wood. “I don’t know.”

  Will picked up a piece of the cedar lining. “Here, smell this and see if it gives you a hint.”

  Nathaniel put his nose to the wood and inhaled. “It smells like Mommy’s hope chest.”

  “That’s right. How do you feel about building your mom a new hope chest for Christmas?”

  When Nathaniel launched himself at Will, wrapping his little arms around his neck, he sucked in a breath. Then he rubbed the boy’s back and set him down on his feet. “So that’s a yes?”

  “Yes! She’ll be so happy she’ll probably cry, but not in the shower.”

  Will wanted to wipe the memory of Christina trying to hide her tears in the shower from Nathaniel’s mind forever. “Now remember, this is a secret.”

  He made a big crossing motion over his heart. “I promise. I won’t even give hints.”

  “Okay. We’ll start tomorrow after school. We don’t have a lot of time, so we’ll have to work hard a little bit every day. And you’ll have to listen to what I say so you’re safe, too.”

  Nathaniel beamed, his smile huge and so like his mother’s. “I will. This is going to be the best Christmas ever.”

  That’s what Will wanted to hear.

  * * *

  Christina tucked the vacuum away in the hall closet, whistling a perky Christmas tune as she closed the door.

  She’d just gotten off the phone with Mrs. Porter and they were absolutely in love with Florida. They had no intention of moving back to New Hampshire and her dearest friend Gail had been full of glowing stories about Christina and Nathaniel. They wouldn’t even think about selling the house for at least a year at the soonest, since that’s when their son might get out of the military and they’d give him first dibs. In the meantime, they hoped Christina wouldn’t be going anywhere.

  She wouldn’t be. She and Nathaniel had their home for at least another year and that’s all that mattered. She’d worry about the next year when it arrived and keep tucking away money for just in case.

  “Mom!” The door slammed behind her son, who’d been spending even more time than usual across the street. Most of it in the garage doing something secret. Christina wasn’t even allowed to help with the recycling until it was over because the bins were in the garage and it was strictly off-limits to her.

  “I’m right here and what did I tell you about slamming the door?”

  He skidded to a stop in front of her, his hands behind his back. “Sorry, Mommy. I need you to do a secret for me.”

  Christina smiled, wondering what her son was up to now. “If it’s a secret, how will I know what to do?”

  “I’ll tell you what to do, but I can’t tell you what it’s for. That’s the secret.”

  “Okay.”

  When he revealed the piece of red construction paper he’d had hidden behind his back, she figured they must be making holiday crafts at school. “Red paper is a very good color for Christmas.”

  “It’s a secret.” After giving her a look meant to drive home that fact, he laid the paper flat. “Put your hand on it.”

  She did as he instructed. “Should my fingers be together or spread apart?”

  He frowned, considering the question. “Spread apart.”

  Probably not a mitten decoration for the tree, then. “Like this?”

  “Yeah.” He painstakingly traced the outline of her hand onto the construction paper, his brow knit in concentration.

  When he was done, he took the paper and ran back out the door, though he was careful this time not to let it slam behind him.

  Christina walked to the window and watched him run to the edge of the curb. Then he stopped, looking both ways before running all the way into the garage.

  The amount of time he was spending with Will concerned her. Her son was growing more attached to the man every day and she worried about what would happen if Will left town again or found other things to occupy his time. Or maybe he’d start dating a woman who didn’t want the neighbor’s kid underfoot all the time.

  Nathaniel had been abandoned by his father. He didn’t need to be left behind by another man he’d grown to care about. The silver lining in the fact Robert wasn’t a very good father was that their son seemed to be handling his loss fairly well. But Will was a different kind of man and Nathaniel would miss him.

  But she didn’t put a stop to the visits to the garage, not only because it was obvious they were scheming a grand Christmas surprise, but because she wasn’t sure she wasn’t projecting her own emotions onto Will’s relationship with her son.

  She was growing attached to him, and she knew if he left town or found some other woman to date, she’d miss him. Especially if he found another woman to date—one who didn’t have a child and baggage and knew how to change the batteries in her own smoke detectors.

  It had been almost a week since he’d kissed her, and the first time she’d visited Gail after, it had quickly become obvious they were going to pretend it hadn’t happened. H
e hadn’t been cold to her or avoided her, but he also hadn’t treated her any differently than he had before.

  That made her angry, if she was honest with herself. The kiss had meant something to her and for him to so easily brush it off was hurtful. If he didn’t want her, he should stop touching her. If he did...that was the hard part.

  It would be so easy to let Will sweep her off her feet and into his life. He would take care of her, and he’d take care of her son, too. The lure of that was strong enough so it scared her. Having a man like Will to do the things she had a hard time doing for herself would make her stop trying so hard, and then she’d be vulnerable again. That fear was why she went along with pretending the kiss never happened instead of making him talk about it.

  If she didn’t depend on him, he couldn’t let her down.

  Chapter Seven

  On Saturday, five days before Christmas, Will parked his truck in the driveway and then walked straight into the inevitable.

  Christina was in his mother’s living room and there was no sign of his mother or Nathaniel. She was dusting the knick-knacks scattered around the room and she froze when she saw him.

  “Hi. Your mom said you wouldn’t be home until after supper.”

  He shrugged. “I was supposed to make a run down to the Mass border to pick up some parts from a junkyard for Tony, but he ended up finding some locally and got them himself.”

  “Oh.”

  “Where’s Mom?”

  “Since you weren’t going to be around, she went down to your sister’s to watch the kids while Erin got some last minute stuff done. Since they played so well at Thanksgiving, she took Nathaniel with her.”

  “And you’re using the alone time to dust our living room instead of doing your own last-minute stuff? Or relaxing with a book?”

  She laughed and he felt the sound tug at his gut. He’d missed her since he went and screwed everything up by kissing her. Sure, he’d seen her since then, but it hadn’t been the same. He felt awkward around her and their conversations had been stilted and always in the presence of his mom or her son.

 

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