Kisses on Her Christmas List. SUSAN MEIER
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“I suspected she was tired.”
“Exhausted.”
“She’ll be happy in the morning.”
With a weary sigh, Rory fell to the couch. “How’d you get so smart about kids?”
His praise surprised her. Though she’d spent years watching her friends’ kids, longing for her own, she’d also all but ignored them this past difficult year. “I had some friends in South Carolina who had children. I used to babysit.”
He laughed. “You volunteered to hang around kids?”
“It’s always easier to handle children who aren’t yours.” She brushed her hands together to rid them of attic dust and stepped away from the box of decorations. Eager to change the subject, she said, “You sound like you could use a glass of wine.”
“Or a beer, if you have one.”
“I do.” She left the living room, got two beers from the refrigerator and gave one to Rory.
He relaxed on the couch, closed his eyes. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She glanced at the decorations, thinking she really should get started, but also knowing Rory was embarrassed about imposing and at his wits’ end. Deciding to be a Good Samaritan and give him someone to talk to, she gingerly sat on the sofa beside him. “Must have been some drive.”
“There was a point when I considered turning around because I could see things were getting worse, but the weather reports kept saying the storm would blow out soon.” He peered over at her. “It never did.”
“This will teach you to listen to weathermen.”
He laughed. Relaxed a little more. “So you ended up taking over your family’s business?”
“By default. I was perfectly happy to work with the buyers and in advertising for Raleigh’s. But my dad wanted to retire and I’m an only child.” She paused then smiled at him. “I see you also ended up in your dad’s job.”
Rory tilted his head, studying her. Her smile was pretty, genuine. Not flirtatious and certainly not enough to get his hormones going, but an odd tingle took up residence in his stomach. “Yeah. I did. Who would have thought ten years ago that we’d be running the two businesses we always talked about while I waited for Natalie for our dates?”
“Well, you were a shoo-in for your job. You’re the oldest son of a family that owns a business. I thought I was going to be a lawyer. Turns out law school is really, really dull.”
He laughed again, then realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed twice, back-to-back, in the same night. Warmth curled through him. Not like arousal from flirting. Not like happiness, but something else. Something richer. Not only was Shannon Raleigh a knockout and good with kids, but she was also easy to talk to—
Good grief. This strange feeling he was having was attraction. Real attraction. The next step beyond the hormone-driven reaction he had when he saw her in the little red dress.
Damn it. He was here to look at her family’s store to see if it was an appropriate investment for his family. He couldn’t be attracted to her. Not just that, but he was already a loser at love. He’d given in to the fun of flirting once. He’d let himself become vulnerable. Hell, he’d let himself tumble head over heels for someone, and he knew how that had turned out—with her leaving him on Christmas day two years ago, and all but deserting their daughter.
When he’d finally found her and asked about visitation, she’d told him she didn’t want to see Finley. Ever. Hoping that she’d change her mind in the two years that had passed, he’d run out of excuses to give Finley for missed birthdays and holidays. Pretty soon he was going to have to tell a six-year-old girl that her mother didn’t want her.
That broke his heart. Shattered it into a million painful pieces. Made him want to shake his ex-wife silly.
Which was why he’d never marry again. At this point in his life he wasn’t even sure he’d date again.
He rose from the sofa. “You know what? I’m tired, too. I’m going to have to figure out how to get my car from the interstate in the morning and I’m guessing for that I’m going to need a good night’s sleep.” He gave her a warm smile. “Thanks again for letting us stay.”
With that he turned and all but raced toward the door, but he didn’t get three steps before Shannon stopped him. “Rory?”
He turned.
She pointed at the sleeping bag rolled up at by the door. “You might want to take that.”
He sucked in a breath. The whole point of coming into the room had been to get his sleeping bag. Two minutes in her company and he’d forgotten that. “Yeah. Thanks.”
He scooped the sleeping bag from the floor. He hadn’t been this foolish around a woman in years.
He was glad he was leaving in the morning.
Shannon was awakened by the feeling of soft breath puffing in her face. She batted at it only to have her hand meet something solid.
Finley yelled, “Ouch!”
Shannon bolted up on the couch as several things popped into her head at once. First, she was sleeping in her living room. Second, she had company. Third, Finley was not the nicest child in the world. But, the all-important fourth, she would be alone with a child until Rory woke up.
“I’m hungry.” Finley’s tiny face scrunched. Her nose became a wrinkled button. Her mouth pulled down in an upside-down U.
Shannon pressed her lips together to keep from laughing. Which heartened her. Because Finley was forceful and demanding, not a cute little cuddle bug, it was easier for Shannon to deal with being around her.
She rolled out of her sleeping bag. Her friends had complained about being awakened by their children at ungodly hours. But a glance at the wall clock told her it was after eight. She couldn’t fault Finley for waking her. It might be Saturday, but she still had to be at the store by ten to open it.
Fortunately, she had enough time to make something to eat. “Well, I enjoy cooking breakfast so it looks like we’re both lucky this morning.”
That confused Finley so much that her frown wobbled.
Laughing, Shannon ruffled her hair. “Which do you prefer pancakes or waffles?”
“Do you have blueberries?”
“Of course.”
“Then I’d like pancakes.”
Shannon headed for the kitchen. “You and I are going to get along very well.”
As she pulled the ingredients for pancakes from the cupboards, Finley took a seat at the table. Before she started to make the batter, Shannon picked up the remote for her stereo and turned it on. A rousing rendition of “Here Comes Santa Claus” poured into the room.
“Would