Grinning so much would put new creases in his cheeks, but he couldn’t resist. Running a hand through his hair, he said, “I kept it shorter when I was a cop, but these days I don’t bother with it much.”
Joey came out, saying, “I like your hair. It’s not messy, really. It’s just...finger combed.”
Meeting her gaze, murmured, “Everything is fine. Relax.”
Nodding, she handed him a coffee in a red mug that saidBorn to be Grinchy.
Hendrix cocked a brow. “At least it’s not silver and gold.”
“Actually, it suits you.”
He did a double take as she took the available chair. Did she see him as a Grinch?
“Your hair,” she clarified, gesturing at all of him. “The whole package is nice. Like, your hair goes with your face, which goes with your bod, and goes with your casual jeans and flannel shirts.”
Not to be left out, Ryder asked, “Do I have a vibe?”
Hendrix couldn’t resist mussing his hair. “You do. A very cool vibe. It’s creative and upbeat.”
“What about Mom’s vibe?”
“Hmm.” Hendrix pretended to think about it, but really he needed to search for a word other than sexy. “I’d say your mom’s vibe is warm, protective, and loving.”
“She’s a good cook, too.” Ryder turned to Joey. “I told him you were making pancakes.”
“Mm,” Joey said. “After coffee, though.”
Going to his knees on his seat, Ryder leaned toward her. “I’m getting hungry now.”
Joey groaned. “Then I guess I better get to it.” She tipped her face up to Hendrix’s. “Would you like to join us?”
He quickly weighed his options. He could invite them to go into town with him instead, but that would mean immersing himself in all the fanfare, the repetitive Christmas music, elaborate window decorations, and everyone sharing holiday cheer. Offering to make the pancakes himself was out. He didn’t have pancake mix or syrup, and even if he did, he’d never made them before so odds were he’d botch it.
With his long hesitation, Joey gave him an understanding smile, then put a hand on Ryder’s shoulder. “I think Mr. Becker has other things to do today.”
The kid’s face fell.
Well, damn. Now he felt like a dick. “Actually, I’m free all day, so sure, I’ll join you. Thank you.”
Her lips curled up. “Even though you’re speaking through your teeth again?”
Under Ryder’s close scrutiny, he worked his jaw. “I’m not.”
Giving him a telling look, Joey asked, “You’re sure?”
“Yes.” It didn’t matter that he’d sort of bit off that word. He needed to talk to her about the white car anyway, so he’d suffer – again – her nauseating idea of Christmas.
Ryder bounced up. “You’ll love her pancakes, Mr. Becker.”
“You know what?” Hendrix scooped him up again. “Since we’re friends now, how about you call me Hendrix?” He glanced at Joey. “Is that okay?”
She pretended to give it some thought. “Yes, as you said, you’re friends now.”
“We’re friends for real?” Ryder asked.
“What’d you think? That I just go around lifting kids who aren’t friends?” He pretended to toss him, which had Ryder squealing in laughter and grabbing him for a tighter hold. Hendrix felt the boy’s meager grip even in his heart. “We’re definitely friends.”
“Then...” Ryder sent a sideways look at his mom, then leaned in to whisper, “Can I talk to you ‘bout something?”
