“I’m not sure.”
“You need a tree at Christmas. Otherwise, how will Santa know where to put the presents?” Noelle’s innocence had me hugging her to my chest. I never wanted my little girl to grow up. Growing up meant facing the world and learning that it wasn’t all unicorns and rainbows. I wanted to shield her innocence and prolong the dreamer as long as I possibly could.
“I’m not sure. Maybe Chris didn’t put up his tree this year because he was waiting for you to come and help him,” I suggested.
“I’m the best at decorating!” Noelle declared, and the heaviness was lifted. “I wish we could make cookies. I want to decorate them.”
“Not today.” I leaned in and pressed my lips to Noelle’s head breathing in her shampoo. “Go grab your brush and I’ll do your hair.”
Ten minutes and more than a dozen arguments later,Noelle’s hair was braided and she was back to complaining about being hungry.
“Put this back in your bag, and I’ll find breakfast.” I handed her the brush and rose from the couch.
I was standing in front of the overflowing, unorganized pantry grinning. Chris had gone shopping yesterday and from the sight in front of me, he’d bought one of everything. The size of the jar of peanut butter would probably last him a year, I know it would in our house.
With a whoosh, the door opened, and a blast of icy wind came through as Chris stepped inside, dusting the snow from his hair.
“It hasn’t eased up at all,” he commented, shutting the door tightly.
“I hope it doesn’t last too much longer,” I replied.
“Why? Are you sick of being stuck here with me?”
He asked the question and although his tone was casual, there was something behind it. Something I couldn’t place but wanted to know more about.
“I think it’s more you’re stuck with us. Surely, we’re cramping your style,” I countered.
“Style? You think I have style?” he teased, and I caught myself looking him up and down.
He wore heavy boots, a pair of gray sweats, and a flannel jacket. His eyes were full of mischief and his hair was damp.
“I was just looking for the Lucky Charms,” I admitted, dodging his question.
Chris moved into the kitchen and stood beside me. I could smell the smoke from the fire on his clothes mixed with the scent of grease. As he reached across in front of me, the warmth from his body made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I couldn’t understand. What was it about this man that was driving me crazy? And more importantly, how did I make itstop? The last thing I needed to do right now was to develop a silly little crush on the guy who was quite literally saving us from sleeping in our car and freezing to death. No matter how sexy he was, or how patient he was with Noelle. No. I had to stow these hormones and just get through this.
“They’re right here,” he commented, pulling the box from the cupboard right in front of me.
“Thanks.”
I took the box from his hand, careful to avoid touching his fingers. While I gathered bowls, Chris took the milk from the fridge.
“I’ll take Noelle downstairs and get her started on breakfast if you want to shower,” I offered, taking a step back and putting distance between us.
“Or …”
“Or?”
“Or I can take Noelle downstairs and you can jump in the shower,” Chris offered. This man was beyond helpful.
“It’s fine. I can do it.”
“Not saying you can’t. You just don’t have to. Let me help you.”
“I … I …”
“You’re not used to that, are you? Not used to letting anyone help you. Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Chris commented with a smile, and while he smiled, I soothed the sting. He didn’t mean anything by it, I knew that, but it still hurt. It wasn’t that I didn’t want someone to help me, I just didn’t have anyone. Dad offered to hire someone, but I didn’t want that. Someone paid to like spending time with Noelle, no thank you. I only wanted people in our lives that wanted to be there. And that meant spending my nights alone, curled up on the couch reading about epic romances and pretending that my very own book boyfriend was out there somewhere waiting for me, too.
“You know, Holly,” Chris began, taking the breakfast things from my hands. “It’s okay to let people help you now and again,” he told me.
