duffel bag along behind him, occasionally changing arms when his shoulder protested. “So tell me, Toby, do you work at the store on a regular basis?”
“When I’m not practicing football or basketball or out with my girl.”
Toby had the four-foot, live tree—in a plastic stand—balanced on one shoulder. In his other hand, he carried Dani’s precious eggs, a loaf of bread and the strands of lights. The teenager wasn’t even breathing hard, nor was he wearing gloves. Nathaniel, probably only fifteen years his senior, felt like an old man trying to keep up.
“Have you been dating this girl for a while?”
“A year and a half, sir. We have plans to go to college together and get married when we graduate.”
“Your parents are okay with that?”
“Oh, yeah. They adore Kimberly. Her parents have been married almost as long as mine. Mom always told me to look at a girl’s family. That way you know what’s important to her, and you can decide if you’re compatible.”
The young man’s casual confidence rattled Nathaniel. Was this what happened when you grew up with actual parental guidance? Surely this kid was far too young to know what he wanted out of life. Then again, Nathaniel wasn’t qualified to weigh in on interpersonal relationships, not by a long shot.
Toby used the next twenty minutes to bend Nathaniel’s ear about everything from his interest in NASCAR racing to his amazing girlfriend to the Central America trip he and his youth group were going to make during the summer.
Nathaniel listened with half an ear, wondering if he himself had ever been as passionate and excited about life as this young man. For Nathaniel, every goal had been about getting out on his own and proving himself without his parents. Yet here was an all-American kid who actually enjoyed his life.
Even Toby tired after the first half mile. When they stopped to catch their breath, Toby set the tree and his packages carefully on the ground and rolled his shoulders. He even put on a pair of gloves.
Nathaniel hid a grin. He did remember what it was like to be seventeen and driven by testosterone. Of course, with Dani in his home, those feelings were pretty much the same right now. He didn’t feel the need to flex his muscles, but on the other hand, he had made a long trek through knee-deep ice and snow to bring home provisions. Maybe this was the twenty-first-century equivalent of slaying a wild animal and dragging it back to the cave.
Toby blew on his hands and bounced from one foot to the other. “What about you, Mr. Winston. Do you have any kids?”
For some reason, the question caught Nathaniel completely off guard. “Um, no...”
Toby grinned. “You don’t sound too sure.”
“I’m sure,” Nathaniel said firmly. “Come on. Let’s get going before we freeze to death.”
At the condo, Dani buzzed them in and welcomed them at the door. The way her face lit up when she saw the scrawny little tree gave Nathaniel a warm fuzzy feeling that was scary as hell.
“This is Toby,” Nathaniel said. “His dad manages the market. Toby got drafted to help me get back with all of this.”
Dani beamed at the teenager, baby Peaches on her hip. “Thank you so much, Toby. Here, wait.” She reached into her purse on the table in the foyer and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “Merry Christmas.”
The boy’s cheeks reddened even more than they had from the cold. Dani’s smile could melt a snowman at fifty paces. “Merry Christmas, ma’am. Happy to do it.”
“Will you stay long enough for me to make some hot chocolate?” Dani asked.
Toby grimaced. “Wish I could, but I’d better get back to the store. Your baby is cute.” Peaches flirted with him unashamedly.
Dani blinked. “Oh, well, she’s not mine, but thanks.”
Toby shot Nathaniel a raised-eyebrow look. The baby wasn’t Dani’s, and Nathaniel had said he didn’t have kids. No wonder the boy was confused.
Nathaniel decided to hurry the goodbyes along. “Too bad you can’t stay. Thanks for your help. Tell your father thanks, too. Merry Christmas.”
When the door closed behind the teenager, an awkward silence fell, one that weighed a thousand pounds. Nathaniel cleared his throat. “I got a tree,” he said.
Dani nodded, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. “I see that.”
“I thought you’d like it, it being Christmas Eve and all.” He didn’t tell her it wasn’t his idea.
“I think it’s wonderful,” Dani said softly. She went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, so quickly he barely felt it. “Thank you, Nathaniel.” She paused. “If you don’t mind taking the baby, I’ll start putting the groceries away. Would you like something warm to drink? I have a fresh pot of coffee brewing.”
“Give me a minute first,” he said gruffly. “I need a shower and different clothes.”
* * *
Dani regretted the kiss as soon as she did it. She wasn’t sure what had come over her except that she had been so darned touched by Nathaniel’s effort. Toby had helped significantly, but still...
She suspected she had either shocked her boss or made him extremely uncomfortable or both. She came from a very affectionate family. For a moment, she had forgotten where she was. It was a mistake she wouldn’t repeat. Nathaniel had disappeared so fast, he probably left a trail of steam.
Before Toby departed, the two men had hefted the full-to-the-brim canvas duffel onto the granite-topped kitchen island. Even with Peaches on one hip, Dani was able to begin putting cans and dry goods into the cupboard. She often enjoyed watching cooking shows on cable, but she didn’t consider herself a pro. Something about Christmas Eve, though, gave her a tingling sense of anticipation for the dinner to come.
“Here’s the thing,” she whispered to Peaches. “It would be super helpful if you would take a nice long nap. Nathaniel needs one, too, and I have a ton of cooking to do.” The little girl gazed up at her, fist in mouth. She didn’t look at all sleepy.
“Okay, fine. Stay awake. But Santa doesn’t visit cranky children, now does he?”
After half an hour, Nathaniel still hadn’t appeared. Was he avoiding her? If they were to eat at a decent hour, she needed to get the roast in the oven and start on the pecan pie. For Christmas morning, she had planned a coffee cake with streusel topping and mimosas. Christmas lunch would consist of open-faced beef sandwiches with a cranberry salad.
Without the internet, she would have been lost. Her phone was her lifeline. It helped that Nathaniel kept a drawer full of extra charging cords. Impromptu travel with literally nothing except her purse was not the easiest thing in the world.
When four thirty rolled around, she decided to go in search of her missing boss. She found him facedown on his mattress, sound asleep. Poor man. She knew he wouldn’t have left her to handle everything on purpose.
He was bare from the waist up, his tan evidence of holidays spent in tropical climates. His shoulders and back were smoothly
