past Faye to have shrunk it deliberately, but then he’d been the one to put the load into the dryer.
“What news?” Faye prompted, tapping her foot impatiently.
“The road will be cleared tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, thank goodness.”
The relief in her voice was palpable. Piers fought back the pang of disappointment. He’d known all along she couldn’t wait to leave and realistically he knew they couldn’t stay snowbound together forever, even if the idea was tempting. Baby logistics alone meant they had to venture out into the real world.
He dropped the sweater back onto the pile of clothing.
“We should celebrate tonight.”
“Celebrate?” She frowned slightly then nodded. “I could celebrate but I’ll be more inclined to do so when my plane takes off and heads toward the West Coast.”
“Skeptic.”
“Realist.”
He smiled at her and felt a surge of elation when she reluctantly smiled in return.
“Well, I plan to celebrate,” he said firmly. “Champagne, I think, after Casey is down, and dancing.”
“I hope you have fun. I’m going to pack,” Faye said, turning and heading for the stairs.
“Oh, come on,” Piers coaxed. “Let yourself relax for once, Faye. It won’t hurt. I promise.”
“I know how to relax,” she answered with a scowl.
Casey squealed from his position on the blanket.
“Even Casey thinks you need to lighten up.”
“Casey is focused on the stockings you’ve got hanging over the fireplace,” she pointed out drily.
“Yeah, about those. I know it’s only a day’s notice but I think we should cancel the Christmas Eve party—in fact, cancel the whole house party. I don’t think a lodge full of guests will be a good environment for the little guy here and, to be honest, I think I’d rather just keep things low-key this year.”
* * *
Faye looked at him in surprise. He’d been adamant that, despite the fact that the last time he’d been here with his friends it had been the last time Quin had partied with them all, he wanted to keep with his usual tradition.
“Are you certain?” she asked.
“Yeah. Somehow it doesn’t feel right. I know it’s short notice and people will be annoyed but, to be honest, if they can’t understand that my change in circumstances makes me want to change my routine then I don’t really want to be around them.”
“Okay, I’ll get right on it.”
“Thank you, Faye. I know I don’t say it often enough, but I couldn’t function properly without you.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’d do just fine.”
“No,” he answered seriously. “I don’t think I would. You’re important to me, Faye. More than you realize.”
The flip response she’d been about to deliver froze on the tip of her tongue. The expression in Piers’s eyes was serious, his brows drawn lightly together. Her heart gave a little flip. Important to him. What did he mean by that? She’d sensed a shift in their relationship in the time they’d been stranded but she’d put it down to the bizarreness of their situation. That pesky flicker of desire shimmered low in her body and she felt her skin tighten, her breathing become a little short, her mouth dry. She swallowed and forced her gaze away from his face.
What could she say? The atmosphere between them stretched out like a fog rich with innuendo. If he took a step toward her now, what would she do? Would she take a step back or would she hold her ground and let him come to her? And kiss her again, perhaps?
The flicker burned a little brighter and her nipples grew taut and achy. This was crazy, she thought with an edge of panic. He’d just been thanking her for her dedication to her job. That was all she had to offer him. And yet there was heat in his dark brown gaze. This wasn’t just a boss expressing his gratitude to his employee; there was so much more subtext to what he’d uttered with such feeling.
Faye fought to find some words that would bring things back to her kind of normal. One where you didn’t suddenly feel an overwhelming desire to run your fingers along the waistband of your boss’s sweater and lift it up to see if the skin of his ridged abdomen was like heated silk. Her fingers curled into tight fists at her sides.
As if he could sense the strain in the air, Casey had fallen silent. Faye forced herself to look away from Piers and her gaze fell on the baby.
“Oh, look,” she cried. “He’s found his thumb.”
It took Piers a moment or two to move but when he did a smile spread across his face.
“Hey, clever guy. I guess that means no more pacifier?”
“I guess. It may help him to self-settle better at night.”
“I’m all for that.”
“But it can lead to other issues. You can always throw a pacifier away but it’s not so easy when a kid gets attached to sucking their thumb.”
“Hey, I’m prepared not to overthink it at this stage.”
She watched as Piers settled back down on the floor beside the baby and started talking to him as if he was the cleverest kid in the world. This time when her heart strings pulled, it was a different kind of feeling. One that made her realize all that she’d forsaken in her life with her choice not to have a family. Faye made herself turn away and take the basket back to the laundry room. She couldn’t stay here another second and allow herself to—
She cut off that train of thought but a persistent voice at the back of her mind asked, Allow yourself to what? To fall in love with them? That would be stupid. Stupid and self-destructive.
Faye made herself scarce during Casey’s bath time and final feeding, leaving Piers to settle him for the night. Now that she knew she’d be leaving at some stage tomorrow, she didn’t trust herself not to indulge in little Casey’s nearness just that bit too much. It would be all too easy to nuzzle that dark fuzz of hair on his head, to pepper his chubby little cheeks with kisses, to coax just one more smile from him before bedtime, to feel the weight of his solid little body lying so trustingly in her arms. Just thinking about it made her ache to hold him, but she held firm on her decision to keep a safe distance between them. Piers was perfectly capable of seeing to Casey’s immediate needs right now. The baby didn’t need her any more than she wanted to be needed.
But you do want to be needed, came that insidious inner voice again. The voice that, no matter how resolute she determined to be, continued to wear at her psyche. It had been easy enough for her to keep away from situations where interaction with babies was inevitable, but in this enforced, close atmosphere here at the lodge, all her hard-fought-for internal barricades had begun to crumble.
She needed some distance. Right now.
