Page 58 of Once Upon A Christmas Song

“I hope so,” he whispered, leaning back into me. “If I’m really lucky.”

I had no idea what to say.

“And if you take a chance on me, then you get the new improved model,” he boasted.

It was kind of him to banter with me, to relieve the pressure right then. Allow us both time to breathe.

“I need to go now,” Georgine yelled from down the hall. “Everybody and the rabbit, get in the car!”

“This is stupid,” I grumbled, stepping away from Dawson to squat down next to the cage. “That’s your side.”

“Why am I walking backward?”

“Because I’ll have more of the weight that way.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Just grab your side.”

We had the cage lifted and moving in moments.

“You see how much better this is?” he asked me.

It was. No argument there.

“I’m sure you had better things to do tonight than watch kids with me.”

He smiled. “Just like earlier when I went with you to get Cami, all I want is to be with you, Chris. Whenever I can, however I can, I’ll be there.”

How earnest he was, the look on his face, in his eyes, I could read him easily, and all I could see was hope.

“Well, you’re gonna be bored,” I apprised him.

“Probably not, but I wanna show you how great I am at watching kids.”

“Why would I care about that?”

“For when you wanna have babies with me.”

“Oh God,” I groaned. “Listen, for the record, she knows that⁠—”

“I don’t care. She clearly gets me, and that’s all that matters. Plus, you love her, and I’m going to teach her how to play the guitar, so how golden am I?”

I could feel the fractures in the walls around my heart, that was how much I was thinking about him and how shiny he’d become in a very short time.

“Now come on,” he urged. “I’ve gotta get you fed before you completely lose all your patience.”

“I am really hungry,” I confessed.

“Yes, I know.”

I wasn’t about to tell him how much I enjoyed him caring. As much as I meant to all my friends and the people I worked with, no one was focused solely on me. I missed that, and here he was, wanting to take care of me. Crazy to think he was the same guy, filled with memories of me, how I was, what I needed, my likes and dislikes, but now changed so that I was his priority.

“You’re not gonna be able to say no to me much longer,” he whispered.

And that was probably very true.

Georgine’s home had been listed as a condo when she originally went to look at it, but all I saw was the cute little historical home on Saint Louis that had been recently renovated. The small stairs that went up from the street to the pale-green house with red shutters, the original corbels Georgine loved but I didn’t understand the lure of. We had them at the club too, frou-frou pieces that helped support the roof. And they probably didn’t—corbels appeared more decorative than anything else—but they were always listed like they were a big deal. There were also ironwork window guards, which were at least interesting to look at. So from the outside, it was pretty, but the inside, to me, was the treat.