A Family Under the Christmas Tree (7 page)

Her breath hitched slightly. She licked her lips. He tracked the movement, and his gut clenched. “We're happy to help you out.”

He wanted to kiss her. The thought tore through him like a flash of lightning. Yearning built in his chest. He felt a magnetic pull toward her.

He knew he should resist. Knew it wouldn't be smart or gentlemanly to give in to the desire to kiss her. He leaned toward her and managed by sheer will to stop halfway, allowing her the choice to close the distance between them or to turn away. He hoped she would close the distance.

She ducked her head and tugged her hand free, then stepped around him. “Uh, Troy's waiting.”

He straightened but couldn't speak. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth as humiliation flooded his system.

What had he been thinking?

She was way out of his league. A world traveler, a sophisticated photographer who probably had rich, good-looking men falling over themselves trying to gain her attention.

He gave a mental snort. That's the thing. He hadn't been thinking. Apparently that was today's theme. Wow! For a smart man, he was acting like an idiot.

Sophie's pulse pounded in her ears as she hurried across the driveway toward Grandma's house. David was right behind her. She could feel his presence in the prickling of her skin and her heightened senses. His musky scent wrapped around her, chasing away the chill of the December evening.

She tried not to think about what had just happened, but the memory wouldn't
leave her mind. First she'd found the charcoal drawing. Was that really how he saw her? She'd been flattered and flabbergasted.

Then to realize David wanted to kiss her . . .

And had nearly done so, but then he hadn't. He'd hovered just out of reach, like forbidden fruit.

At first she'd been confused and hurt, thinking he'd suddenly realized what he was about to do and had changed his mind. But then she'd realized he was letting her make the choice whether to kiss him.

Why, oh why, hadn't she kissed him?

She wanted to. Ached with the desire to press her lips to his. To feel his arms around her and to snuggle close to him. But it wouldn't be wise. Right now, she and David were both in strange places in their lives. She was on the cusp of realizing a dream and he was struggling to figure out how to parent his nephew while running his company. It would be far too easy to get caught up in the feelings bouncing around her heart and head. Too easy to think that this handsome man could be the “one,” as Grandma hoped.

Sophie wasn't sure there was a “one” out there for her. Someone who would accept her, flaws and all. She wasn't even sure she wanted to find the one—not if it meant giving up her dream job or her career.

No, she needed to keep things between her and David on a neighborly basis. Friends. Especially since she would be caring for Troy. The last thing Troy needed was to get his hopes up that she and David would ever be together. She was leaving after New Year's for the job she'd been working toward her whole life, and nothing short of a natural disaster could keep her away from that.

With that thought, she opened Grandma's front door and ushered David inside. Troy scrambled down from the dining room table and raced across the living room to launch himself into David's arms.

David held his nephew against his chest. “I'm sorry I'm late, buddy.”

“I thought—” Troy buried his face in David's neck.

“I'm right here,” David cooed. “And you were safe with Louise and Sophie.”

Troy nodded and leaned back. His eyes shone with tears and his lip quivered. “We made Christmas cookies. Though some of the shapes aren't Christmasy but I put red and green frosting on them. Now they look like Christmas. I made a tiger and a bear and the waffle tower.”

Sophie chuckled. “
Eiffel
Tower.”

“That's so exciting.” David set Troy on his feet and gave Sophie a tight smile. “We'll get out of your hair now.”

Grandma rolled up, nudging Sophie aside without so much as a how do you do. Sophie eyed Grandma with suspicion.

“David, we'd love for you and Troy to stay for dinner,” Grams stated firmly. “Troy and I were just about to watch a Christmas movie.”

Sophie should have seen that coming.

“Yes! Please, Uncle David!” Troy hopped up and down like his feet were spring-loaded.

Riggs barked and danced around Troy, excited by the child's excitement.

Grandma beamed, and Sophie's heart clenched. The company was good for Grandma. And if Sophie hoped to convince David that he and Troy should give Riggs a home, she needed
him to be around the dog more and to see how good Riggs was for Troy.

She'd just have to put her own confused and scattered feelings aside.

David met Sophie's gaze. She could see hesitation in his eyes. After rebuffing his kiss, he no doubt thought she didn't want him around. “We'd love to have you stay.”

She meant it. David intrigued her. And if they were to become friends, she wanted to know more about him. His selflessness in taking in his nephew said a lot about his character. Not many single guys she knew would have made the sacrifice.

One corner of David's mouth curved. “Four to one. I guess the answer is yes.”

“Four?” Sophie cantered her head in confusion.

David's gaze dropped to the dog, who now lay on the floor at Troy's feet, his big head resting on his paws and his dark eyes twinkling. David chuckled. “How could anyone resist him?”

Sophie grinned. “How indeed.” She moved to step over Riggs just as the dog lifted to his feet, setting Sophie off balance. Her arms windmilled as she toppled toward the floor. Years of gymnastics as a kid kicked into gear and she tucked and rolled, landing on her feet in a squat.

She jumped up and turned to stare at Grandma. “That's how you hurt your foot, isn't it?”

Grandma's eyes were huge and her mouth open with astonishment before she clamped her lips together and smiled sheepishly. “Maybe.”

“Note to self,” Sophie said. “Don't try to walk over Riggs or you'll end up on the floor.”

Riggs let out a bark and then licked her hand.

“
Wow, that was impressive,” David said, amusement lacing his words. “What do you call that move?”

“A somersault.”

“Show me how to do that!” Troy attempted to roll on the floor but rolled off his shoulder and landed with a thud on his backside. Sophie ignored David's interested stare and proceeded to teach Troy how to do a proper somersault.

W
ith Louise and Troy in the living room watching a Christmas movie, David leaned against the kitchen counter. He watched Sophie pulling food from the refrigerator. She'd tied a green-and-red-striped apron around her waist. Trading the rain boots for fuzzy slippers, she'd retied her pretty hair up with a bright yellow hair band, revealing the long, slender column of her neck.

He could see the pulse point just above the collar of her shirt and couldn't help wondering if he would feel her pulse jump if he placed a kiss there.

Considering her reaction the last time he'd attempted to kiss her, he stayed where he was. Still, it didn't hurt to wonder, did it? He could feel his ears turning red. Hopefully, she'd think it was the warmth of the house. If she even noticed. She'd hardly looked at him since he'd agreed to stay for dinner. Not that he blamed her. He'd acted impulsively. There was a reason he didn't usually do that.

He noted she wore no jewelry. She didn't need any. She was pretty without any decorations. It had been a long time since he'd been this attracted to a woman. Not since Sybil. His college girlfriend.

They'd met his first year. She'd worked in the coffee shop near the campus and had an exotic beauty, with dark, short, spiky hair and coffee-colored, almond-shaped eyes. They'd dated for a year before she'd moved on to follow her dream of being a flight attendant. He'd never heard from her again.

Her rejection had fueled his frantically paced schedule the next few years. He hadn't wanted to admit he'd thought she hadn't believed in him and his dream of opening his own software company. But in the end, she'd left him, just like everyone else. He'd wanted to prove to her, to his parents, to everyone, that he would succeed without anyone else's help.

Strange, he hadn't thought about Sybil in years. With time and perspective, he realized he hadn't been heartbroken, just indignant, when she'd left. But that hurt was long gone, as were his feelings for her.

Forcing his thoughts away from the past, he focused on the lovely woman in front of him. “What can I do to help?”

“Not sure yet.” Sophie laid everything on the counter and surveyed her bounty of broccoli, carrots, and a package of uncooked chicken. “Will Troy eat broccoli?”

“I don't know.” Guilt squeezed him. Shouldn't he know something like that about the boy? Anxiety ate at him. “We've been surviving on prepackaged foods with some fruit thrown in for nutrition. I guess I should make more of an effort to cook real food.”

Sophie laughed. “You'll figure it out. Give yourself time. Now that you're taking some time off, you could buy a cookbook and experiment.”

He laughed. “Only if you promise to eat what I make.”

She slanted him a startled glance. “Uh, well, uh, okay. I'm sure Grandma and I would be happy to taste test your creations.”

He'd flustered her again. It was easy to do. And he had to admit he liked the way her nose crinkled up in confusion and her eyes grew wide. He liked her.

There. He'd admitted it to himself. No harm in that. They needed to be friends. She was going to be a part of his and Troy's lives for the next few days at least, and he'd better like and trust her if he were going to leave Troy with her.

He'd just have to be careful not to let himself or Troy become too attached to the pretty photographer.

She pushed up the sleeves of her off-white shirt. “Would you mind firing up the oven to four twenty-five? I'll roast the chicken with some diced potatoes and carrots and steam the broccoli.”

“Sounds good.” He did as he was asked. “I can cut up the potatoes.”

She handed him a cutting board. “Knives are in the center drawer.”

Glad to have something to do, he set out to chop the potatoes into cubes. “Louise said you grew up in Hollywood.”

“Actually, my parents' home is in West Hollywood.” She washed the chicken and patted it dry with a paper towel. “Though they work in Hollywood.”

“Doing what?”

“A little of everything behind the camera. Scriptwriting, producing, directing.” She turned her interested gaze on him. “Where did you grow up?”

His stomach clenched. He should have expected the question. He didn't like talking about his childhood. “Eastern Washington. Will you be heading south for Christmas Day?”

If she noticed how quickly he changed the subject she didn't let on. “Nope, I'm planning on staying here with Grandma until after New Year's. I never know from year to year if I'll make it home for the holidays. My parents have so much going on at this time of year, they hardly notice my absence, and my brothers all have their own families now.” She placed the chicken in a glass pan. “Hopefully, Grandma will be walking by then.”

“No doubt Louise will love having you stay,” he said. He'd assumed she'd go home for Christmas, then fly off to the job she had waiting for her. He couldn't deny he was glad to hear Sophie would be around for a little while longer than he'd thought. Not that he planned on spending any more time with her than necessary. “It's nice that you have a flexible job.”

“It's not great on my pocketbook, but Grandma needs me, and I'm happy to be here with her while I have the time.”

“Did you have to give up a photography job to be here?”

“No. Thankfully, I was just wrapping up one in Gran Canaria, so the timing couldn't have been better.”

“Ah, that explains the tan.”

She flashed him a grin. It was like the sun coming out on a spring day. “Yes. It was a bit of a shock to come from the balmy Canary Islands to here.” She added diced carrots to the chicken. “I'm sure my agent would have found me a Christmas shoot with a magazine or something. She's the best in the business.”

“Only the best for the best.” He slid the cubed potato pieces into the pan and watched as she poured olive oil and seasonings over the food.

She let out a wry laugh. “Right.” She moved past him to grab a stack of plates from a cupboard. “What about your family? Are your parents still in eastern Washington?”

“No.” He took the plates from her and set them on the counter. “
You must be thrilled at the prospect of going abroad again.”

“I am. This job will add more prestige as well as photos to my portfolio, and if they like my work they'll probably hire me for more.”