Dani’s shirt, which was, of course, Nathaniel’s shirt. At this rate, she would have to borrow half a dozen to keep up with the baby’s tendency to destroy clothing.
This was the strangest Christmas Eve Dani had ever experienced. Over the last decade, she had dated a number of men, but none of them long enough to warrant spending the holidays with their families or vice versa. The only Christmases Dani had ever known were celebrated in the bosom of her family.
Though Nathaniel’s condo was a far cry from her parents’ warm and welcoming home, Dani was determined to make this day memorable. For Peaches. For Nathaniel. Heck, for herself.
Someday, God willing, she would be marking the holidays in a house of her own with a husband, two as-yet-to-be-named kids and maybe a dog. She would be in charge of the meals and the decorations and the Santa gifts.
Maybe this odd Christmas was a testing ground. Did she have it in her to make the holiday special under these circumstances? Would Nathaniel even care?
One glance at the clock on the stove told her she had no time to spare. Presumably Nathaniel had disappeared to suit up for his foray into the winter wonderland. Dani loved playing in snow as a rule, but she didn’t have the appropriate clothing, and it was too cold for the baby even if Dani had wanted to go along.
With Peaches in one arm, she quickly scanned the contents of the cabinets. They were mostly empty. One set of salt and pepper shakers. An out-of-date container of cinnamon. Half a bag of questionable flour. But at least the basics of cookware were represented. Maybe a woman had furnished the kitchen.
She found a pen and started writing. By the time Nathaniel returned carrying the big empty duffel bag, Dani had filled three pages of a notepad advertising a well-known realty company. “I hope you can read my writing,” she fretted. “I’m not good at one-handed penmanship.”
Nathaniel grinned. “We have these things called cell phones...”
“Well, that’s true. But what if I’m changing a diaper at the exact moment you need to call me?”
He shrugged. “Then I’ll wait.” Even bundled from head to toe, he managed to look ruggedly handsome.
“What about eggs and bread?”
“I’ll put them on top. It will be fine. Quit worrying. You should know, though, that walking a mile and back in a foot of snow won’t be quick. Not to mention how long it’s going to take me to find all this stuff.” He waved the list in the air.
“Sorry,” Dani said. “I guess I got carried away. Maybe I was making sure you didn’t have to make a second trip.”
“Maybe,” he chuckled. He kissed the baby’s cheek, his lips dangerously close to Dani’s, close enough to give a woman ideas. “You girls stay out of trouble while I’m gone.”
* * *
On the elevator ride down to the lobby, Nathaniel started to sweat. He’d put on clothes from his last Colorado ski trip. When he stepped outside, he was glad he had kept the heavy winter gear. As useless as it normally was in Atlanta, today it was going to come in handy.
The snow had turned into a nasty drizzle that froze on contact. Soon, he couldn’t feel his cheeks. He wrapped his fleece scarf around all of his face but his eyes, and picked up the pace. It wasn’t easy. Snowshoes might have been a good idea if he had owned any.
He relished the physical exertion. Despite his lack of sleep the night before, he wanted to push himself to the limits, anything to keep from thinking about Dani. She was his very valuable assistant, not a lover. He had to remember that, no matter how great the temptation.
He’d never seen Atlanta like this. It was a ghost town, a frozen ghost town. Occasionally, an official vehicle passed. There were a few intrepid explorers out, like himself. For the most part, though, his fellow citizens had hunkered down to wait for the snow to melt.
What did normal people do on December 24? There would be no last-minute shopping today, that’s for sure. Even Amazon couldn’t fulfill impulsive wishes in the midst of a blizzard. Fortunately, Nathaniel had resources Amazon didn’t possess. Early this morning, he had made a couple of phone calls and arranged to get a gift for Dani. She deserved at least that much for putting up with his bizarre situation.
The small neighborhood market shone like a beacon at the end of his journey, bringing cheer to the gray, icy day. In addition to the store’s normal illumination, swags of colored lights festooned the entrance.
Inside, Nathaniel grabbed a shopping cart and stripped off his outer garments. Christmas music played from overhead speakers. Oddly, it didn’t irritate him as it sometimes did. When he found himself humming along with a familiar tune, he frowned and concentrated on Dani’s list.
The store was mostly empty. He was able to go as slowly as he wanted, one aisle at a time, until he was confident he had fulfilled his mission.
At the checkout stand, he began to have a few tiny doubts about getting all this stuff back to the condo. No matter. He’d told Dani it might take a while.
The store manager rang up the purchases. “You’re a brave man,” he said. “Must have a woman at home ready to cook.”
“Something like that.”
When the last item was scanned, Nathaniel handed over his credit card and began loading the canvas duffel, putting the canned goods on the bottom. The manager looked to be in his late forties and bore a passing resemblance to Santa Claus. He was dressed in overalls and a red flannel shirt, probably not his usual work attire.
The older man began grouping smaller items and tying them into plastic bags to make them easier to stuff in the duffel. “You got a tree already?” he asked.
Nathaniel shook his head. “No. I don’t usually decorate. It’s a lot of trouble.”
The Santa look-alike frowned. “Then you should take one of those small live trees. On the house. They’ll be useless to me by Monday. For that matter, I’ll throw in a stand and several strands of lights. Might as well. I’ll be stuck with that whole display seventy-five percent off. I’d rather you and your lady friend enjoy them.”
“Oh, but I—”
The manager interrupted, “I know, I know. You’re walking. I get it. My son, Toby, is in the back unloading pallets. Do you know how hard it is for a seventeen-year-old boy to be snowed in the day before Christmas? The kid needs some exercise. He’s driving me and his mom crazy. Let him walk back and carry the tree for you.”
“It’s a long way,” Nathaniel protested.
“Won’t matter.” The man punched in a message on his cell phone. “He’s on his way.”
Moments later the kid appeared. Six foot four at least, with shoulders that told Nathaniel he probably played football. The teenager was visibly eager, chomping at the bit to get outside. “Happy to help, sir,” he said, beaming at Nathaniel. “Which tree would you like?”
Nathaniel wanted to say forget it, but in his gut he knew Dani would love having a tree. “Any of them.” Good grief.
The manager grimaced. “Sorry we don’t have ornaments.”
“Believe
