Kisses on Her Christmas List (3 page)

“She was perfectly fine in preschool and kindergarten, but first grade is turning her into a diva.”

“Diva?”

“Yeah.”
Smiling, he caught her gaze, and every nerve ending in her body lit up like the lights on the Christmas tree in Central Park.
Spinning away from him, she repeated the litany in her head again.

Married.
Married.
Married!

“You know, I can easily handle this myself.
You can use the den for privacy if you need to call your wife.”

He snorted a laugh.
“Not hardly.”

She set the frying pan for the sandwiches on the stove and faced him again.
“I'm sure she's worried.”

“And I'm sure she and her new husband aren't even thinking about me and Finley right now.”

“Oh.”
Nerves rolled through her.
He was divorced?
Not married?

Their gazes caught.
Attraction spun through her like snowflakes dancing in the light of a streetlamp.
She reminded herself that they were about to do business, but it didn't work to snuff out the snap and crackle of electricity sizzling between them.

She pivoted away from him.
Pretending she needed
all her concentration to open two cans of soup, she managed to avoid conversation.
But that didn't stop the chatter in her brain.
As difficult as it might be to have a little girl around, she was abundantly glad Finley was with him.
She might have had that quick fantasy of being stranded with him, but now that sanity had returned, she knew the sale of the store had to take precedence over a night of…she swallowed…passion?
Good God, she hadn't even
thought
the word in a year, let alone
experienced
it.
She'd probably dissolve into a puddle if he made a pass at her.

Finley came out of the bedroom just as Rory set the sandwiches on the table and Shannon had finished ladling soup into the bright green bowls sitting on the pretty yellow place mats.
She crawled onto a chair and spread her paper napkin on her lap.

Longing hit Shannon like an unexpected burst of winter wind.
She remembered dreams of buying pretty dresses for her own little girl, her dreams of taking her to the park, gymnastics, dance lessons and soccer—

She stopped her thoughts, cut off the sadness and grief that wanted to engulf her.
Surely, she could have a little girl in her house without breaking into a million shattered pieces?
She hadn't given up on the idea of becoming a mother altogether.
She knew that once she adjusted to not having her own child, she could adopt.
So maybe this was a good time to begin adjusting?

Finley sighed.
“I don't like red soup.”

Sounding very parental, Rory said, “That's okay.
Just eat your sandwich.”

Finley sighed heavily again, as if it were pure torture not to get her own way.
Rory ignored her.
Shannon studied her curiously, realizing that with Diva Finley she really would get a solid understanding of what it
took to be a parent.
She was like a little blond-haired litmus test for whether or not Shannon had what it took to adopt a child and be a mom.

Rory turned to her and said, “This is certainly a lovely old house.”

She faced Rory so quickly that their gazes collided.
He had the darkest eyes she'd ever seen.
And they were bottomless.
Mesmerizing…

She gave herself a mental shake.
It was pointless to be attracted.
He wouldn't make a pass at her with his daughter around, and she wouldn't make a pass at him because they were about to do business.
She had to stop noticing these things.

She cleared her throat.
“The parts I've restored are great.
But the whole heating system needs to be replaced.”

“Well, you've done a wonderful job on the renovations you have done.”

“Really?”
She peeked up at him.

And everything Rory wanted to say fell out of his head.
Her big blue eyes reminded him of the sky in summer.
The black curls that curved around her face had his hand itching to touch them.

Finley sighed heavily.
“I don't want this soup.”

Rory faced her.
“We already agreed that you didn't have to eat it.”

“I don't like that it's here.”

“Here?”

“In front of me!”

Before Rory had a chance to react, Shannon rose with a smile.
“Let me take it to the sink.”

She reached across the table, lifted the bowl and calmly walked it to the sink.
Then she returned to the table and sat as if nothing had happened.

Technically nothing
had
happened.
She'd diffused the potentially problematic soup episode just by reacting calmly.

Of course, he knew that was what
he
should have done, but after ten grueling hours on the road, he was every bit as tired and cranky as Finley.
And this confusing attraction he felt for Shannon wasn't helping things.

“I don't want this sandwich.”

Here we go again.
“Finley—”

“I'm tired.”

Before Rory could remind her he was, too, Shannon rose.
“I have just the cure for being tired.
A bubble bath.”

Finley instantly brightened.
“Really?”

“I have all kinds of bubbles in my bathroom.
It's right beside the bedroom you're using.
Why don't we go get a bath ready for you?”

Finley all but bounced off her chair.
“All right!”

They disappeared down the hall to the bedroom, and Rory ran his hand down his face.

He didn't know what would drive him crazy first, his daughter or his hormones.

S
HANNON WALKED OUT
of the kitchen with a happy Finley skipping behind her to the bathroom.
Her self-pity long forgotten and her new mission in place, she was glad to help tired, frazzled Rory with his daughter.
It would give her a chance for some one-on-one time with Finley, a chance to prove to herself that she was strong enough to be around kids.
Strong enough to adopt one of her own, if she wanted to.

Unfortunately, the second they were out of Rory's earshot, Finley the Diva returned.
“You can go.
I'll fill the tub myself.”

Having watched her friends in Charleston handle their children, if nothing else, Shannon knew the grown-up in charge had to stay in charge.
“I'm sure you could, but I want to do it.”

Finley crossed her arms on her chest and huffed out a sigh.

For Rory's sake, Shannon didn't laugh.
“I like this scent,” she said, picking up her favorite bubble bath.
“But you can choose whichever one you want.”

Finley chose another scent.
Shannon shrugged.
It didn't matter to her which scent Finley used.
She turned on the tap, poured in the liquid and faced Finley with a smile.
“I'm going to leave the room while this fills up
so you can undress.
Call me when you're ready to step in the tub.”

“I don't need help.”

And with that comment, Shannon decided she had experimented enough for one night.
She didn't have the right to discipline this little girl and she definitely needed a firm hand.
So she left this battle for Rory.
“Okay.
That's great.”

She walked out of the bathroom and directly into the kitchen.
“Tub is almost full and Finley's stripping.
You might want to go in and supervise.”

Rory rose.
“She can bathe herself but I like to be in the next room just in case.”
He glanced at the dishes and winced.
“Sorry about that.”

She waved a hand in dismissal.
“I can load a few dishes into the dishwasher.
You go on ahead.”

Alone in the kitchen for forty minutes, she wasn't sure if Finley had decided to have an Olympic swim in her tub or if Rory was reading her a story…or if they'd found the TV and decided to stay on their own in the bedroom.

Whatever had happened, Shannon was fine with it.
She knew they were both tired, weary.
And once the dishes were stacked in the dishwasher and the kitchen cleaned, she had decorating to do.
But just as she dragged the box of garland over to the sofa, Rory walked into the living room.

“Well, she's down for the night.”

“I suspected she was tired.”

“Exhausted.”

“She'll be happy in the morning.”

With a weary sigh, Rory fell to the couch.
“How'd you get so smart about kids?”

His praise surprised her.
Though she'd spent years
watching her friends' kids, longing for her own, she'd also all but ignored them this past difficult year.
“I had some friends in South Carolina who had children.
I used to babysit.”

He laughed.
“You
volunteered
to hang around kids?”

“It's always easier to handle children who aren't yours.”
She brushed her hands together to rid them of attic dust and stepped away from the box of decorations.
Eager to change the subject, she said, “You sound like you could use a glass of wine.”

“Or a beer, if you have one.”

“I do.”
She left the living room, got two beers from the refrigerator and gave one to Rory.

He relaxed on the couch, closed his eyes.
“Thanks.”

“You're welcome.”
She glanced at the decorations, thinking she really should get started, but also knowing Rory was embarrassed about imposing and at his wits' end.
Deciding to be a Good Samaritan and give him someone to talk to, she gingerly sat on the sofa beside him.
“Must have been some drive.”

“There was a point when I considered turning around because I could see things were getting worse, but the weather reports kept saying the storm would blow out soon.”
He peered over at her.
“It never did.”

“This will teach you to listen to weathermen.”

He laughed.
Relaxed a little more.
“So you ended up taking over your family's business?”

“By default.
I was perfectly happy to work with the buyers and in advertising for Raleigh's.
But my dad wanted to retire and I'm an only child.”
She paused then smiled at him.
“I see you also ended up in your dad's job.”

Rory tilted his head, studying her.
Her smile was pretty, genuine.
Not flirtatious and certainly not enough
to get his hormones going, but an odd tingle took up residence in his stomach.
“Yeah.
I did.
Who would have thought ten years ago that we'd be running the two businesses we always talked about while I waited for Natalie for our dates?”

“Well, you were a shoo-in for your job.
You're the oldest son of a family that owns a business.
I thought I was going to be a lawyer.
Turns out law school is really, really dull.”

He laughed again, then realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd laughed twice, back-to-back, in the same night.
Warmth curled through him.
Not like arousal from flirting.
Not like happiness, but something else.
Something richer.
Not only was Shannon Raleigh a knockout and good with kids, but she was also easy to talk to—

Good grief.
This strange feeling he was having was attraction.
Real attraction.
The next step beyond the hormone-driven reaction he had when he saw her in the little red dress.

Damn it.
He was here to look at her family's store to see if it was an appropriate investment for his family.
He couldn't be attracted to her.
Not just that, but he was already a loser at love.
He'd given in to the fun of flirting once.
He'd let himself become vulnerable.
Hell, he'd let himself tumble head over heels for someone, and he knew how that had turned out—with her leaving him on Christmas day two years ago, and all but deserting their daughter.

When he'd finally found her and asked about visitation, she'd told him she didn't want to see Finley.
Ever.
Hoping that she'd change her mind in the two years that had passed, he'd run out of excuses to give Finley for missed birthdays and holidays.
Pretty soon he was
going to have to tell a six-year-old girl that her mother didn't want her.

That broke his heart.
Shattered it into a million painful pieces.
Made him want to shake his ex-wife silly.

Which was why he'd never marry again.
At this point in his life he wasn't even sure he'd date again.

He rose from the sofa.
“You know what?
I'm tired, too.
I'm going to have to figure out how to get my car from the interstate in the morning and I'm guessing for that I'm going to need a good night's sleep.”
He gave her a warm smile.
“Thanks again for letting us stay.”

With that he turned and all but raced toward the door, but he didn't get three steps before Shannon stopped him.
“Rory?”

He turned.

She pointed at the sleeping bag rolled up at by the door.
“You might want to take that.”

He sucked in a breath.
The whole point of coming into the room had been to get his sleeping bag.
Two minutes in her company and he'd forgotten that.
“Yeah.
Thanks.”

He scooped the sleeping bag from the floor.
He hadn't been this foolish around a woman in years.

He was glad he was leaving in the morning.

 

Shannon was awakened by the feeling of soft breath puffing in her face.
She batted at it only to have her hand meet something solid.

Finley yelled, “Ouch!”

Shannon bolted up on the couch as several things popped into her head at once.
First, she was sleeping in her living room.
Second, she had company.
Third, Finley was not the nicest child in the world.
But, the
all-important fourth, she would be alone with a child until Rory woke up.

“I'm hungry.”
Finley's tiny face scrunched.
Her nose became a wrinkled button.
Her mouth pulled down in an upside-down
U
.

Shannon pressed her lips together to keep from laughing.
Which heartened her.
Because Finley was forceful and demanding, not a cute little cuddle bug, it was easier for Shannon to deal with being around her.

She rolled out of her sleeping bag.
Her friends had complained about being awakened by their children at ungodly hours.
But a glance at the wall clock told her it was after eight.
She couldn't fault Finley for waking her.
It might be Saturday, but she still had to be at the store by ten to open it.

Fortunately, she had enough time to make something to eat.
“Well, I enjoy cooking breakfast so it looks like we're both lucky this morning.”

That confused Finley so much that her frown wobbled.

Laughing, Shannon ruffled her hair.
“Which do you prefer pancakes or waffles?”

“Do you have blueberries?”

“Of course.”

“Then I'd like pancakes.”

Shannon headed for the kitchen.
“You and I are going to get along very well.”

As she pulled the ingredients for pancakes from the cupboards, Finley took a seat at the table.
Before she started to make the batter, Shannon picked up the remote for her stereo and turned it on.
A rousing rendition of “Here Comes Santa Claus” poured into the room.

“Would you like a glass of milk?”

“Yes, please.”

Shannon dipped into her refrigerator as Finley slid off her seat.
Watching Finley walk to the counter, she grabbed the gallon of milk and pulled it out of the fridge.
But before she could reach the counter, Finley had picked up the remote and turned off the music.

She blinked.
“I was listening to that.”

“It was stupid.”

“It was a Christmas song.”

“And Christmas is stupid.”

Shannon gaped at her.
Not just because she had the audacity to turn off the music without asking, but that was the second time she'd mentioned she didn't like Christmas.

The temptation was strong to ask why, as she poured Finley a glass of milk, but she wasn't quite sure how to approach it.
Did she say,
Hey, kid, everybody likes Christmas.
You get gifts.
You get cookies.
What's the deal?

As curious as she was, that seemed a lot like interfering and she was just getting accustomed to being around a child.
She wasn't ready for deep, personal interaction yet.
Plus, saying she hated Christmas could just be a part of one of Finley the Diva's tantrums.
Or a way to manipulate people.

So, she turned to the counter and began preparing pancakes.
A happy hum started in her throat and worked its way out, surprising her.
Breakfast was one of the few meals she was well versed in.
She could make a pancake or a waffle with the best of them.
But it was a happy surprise to be able to be in the same room with Finley without worrying that she'd fall apart or dwell on her inability to have kids herself.

“So where do you go to school?”

“Winchester Academy.”

“Is that a private school?”

Finley nodded.

“Do you like school?”

“Sometimes.
Artie Regan brings frogs and scares me.
And Jenny Logan beats me to the swing.”