“Who’s Caroline? Your wife?” Colin asked.
I shook my head quickly. “My little girl. She’s five. She’ll be here next week. Shared custody. You know how it is.”
He nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. “I do.”
“What about you?” Robbie asked. “Wife? Kids?”
“Oh, no. Definitely not. No kids, no spouse. Not even a boyfriend.”
Robbie gently nudged me with his elbow, a wide grin on his face, and I forced myself not to react to his prodding. I had the urge to flip him off, but I’d deal with him later.
“I guess we’d better get back to unloading,” I said, tipping my head toward the moving truck. “This stuff won’t unpack itself.”
“Yeah, of course. Let me know if you need anything at all. I’m good at unpacking and organizing.”
“Sure. Thanks,” I said, knowing I wouldn’t take him up on the offer. I was more of a “friendly in passing” kind of neighbor, rather than a “friends” neighbor, and I hoped Colin wouldn’t take offense to it. Then again, it might be nice to know someone in the neighborhood who knew about the politics of the residents, and Colin definitely seemed like the kind of guy who’d be plugged into that. Hell, he’d probably be HOA president, if we had one—which we didn’t, thank the heavens.
“Good luck!” he said as he walked away.
Robbie and I unloaded the rest of the truck in relative quiet, focusing on the task at hand, trying to get everything where it belonged quickly, so I could return the truck before I got charged an overtime fee. As we unloaded, I caught myself sneaking glances at Colin, who was indeed in his yard setting up an elaborate Christmas light arrangement and blasting Christmas music while he did it. All I could hope was that he’d turn the music off—or at least down—by the time the sun set.
Chapter 2
Colin
Iworkedhardonputting the display up, starting with the lights on the porch and in the yard. I strung icicle lights along my porch railing, draped lights over the front windows, and blanketed the bushes in front of the house with netted lights. Later, I could hang the icicles from the gutter, and I planned to put lights in the shapes of shooting stars on the slope of the roof.
Each year, my display got bigger and better, and I’d won five years running. I always rolled the prize money back into the competition, helping to purchase new lights and pay the electric bill that skyrocketed in winter.
As I worked, wrapping lights around the branches of the dogwood trees in my front yard, I listened to my favorite Christmas music, singing along and letting my mind wander back to Dakota, my serious—and seriously sexy—new neighbor. I’d noticed the way his friend elbowed him when I mentioned I was single and I wondered if that meant I had a chance. Not that I needed to be getting involved with the neighbor. It hadn’t ended well, the last time I’d dated someone in the neighborhood.When we broke up, they’d attempted to sabotage my lights display. Luckily, I’d foiled that plan before it got too far.
Then again, if my reading on Dakota was right, he wasn’t interested in my lights display at all, which was good. I didn’t need a saboteur again this year. I was going for win number six—beating the record of five consecutive wins that I was already tied for. The first five-time winner honor had gone to Amos Ambrose back in the nineties. Nobody had gotten close since, until I’d started my winning streak.
By the time the sun began to set, I was pleased with my progress, and I wrapped up by placing the candy cane lights along the driveway and along the border of my yard. It was coming together nicely, and I was proud of what I’d done.
The following day was Monday, and as the week progressed, I couldn’t find time to put up any more lights. Work was super busy and I was getting home after dark every night. I couldn’t exactly climb on the roof to put up the shooting stars in the dark, so it would have to wait until the weekend. When Saturday finally rolled around, I was excited to get back to work on my display.
Carefully, I placed a ladder against the side of the house. I hefted an armful of spools of lights up the ladder and sat the spools firmly on the roof. The next thing I knew, I was balancing on the roof, my feet firmly on the shingles, and placing lights carefully in the design I’d planned.
“Daddy, that man is on the roof,” a little girl’s voice called as I started laying out the second of the three shooting stars I had planned.
“He sure is.” I recognized the second voice as Dakota’s immediately.
Cautiously, I turned and waved. Next to Dakota, who looked absolutely delicious in a dark sweater and jeans, was a little girl with blonde pigtails wearing a pink sparkly dress.
“Why is he on the roof? You said it’s dangerous,” she continued.
“I did say that. It looks like he’s putting up some decorations. I’m sure he’s being careful.”
“Hey, guy! Daddy says I can’t go on the roof. It’s not safe.”
Dakota shook his head gently. “Caroline, his name is Mr. Colin, and I promise he’s being careful.”
She beamed. “Hi, Mr. Colin!”
I chuckled and lowered myself to sitting. “That’s right. I’m being very careful. But your daddy’s right. It’s not safe for kids. You’ll have to enjoy my Christmas decorations from down there.”
Her eyes lit up. “I love Christmas. Daddy says Santa will find me no matter what house I live in. Even if I don’t live in our old house. He says Santa doesn’t care if it’s Mommy’s house or Daddy’s. He’ll still know how to get my presents to me.”
