His Holiday Matchmaker. Kat Brookes
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“Her firm only contacted me a few days ago with their very kind offer,” Mr. Clark explained. “I had hoped to surprise you.”
“Well, you succeeded.” Some of the harshness in Nathan Cooper’s expression faded as he looked her way. “Welcome to the team.”
“Thank you.”
“Now that we have that settled, what brings you here?” Mr. Clark inquired of Nathan. “Problem at the site?”
Nathan shook his head. “No. We’re moving right along, all things considered. I just stopped by with Katie so she could add a few dozen more things to her Christmas list.”
The older man chuckled. “Just like her moth...” His words trailed off.
A deafening silence fell in the room.
Alyssa looked between the two men, unsure of what had just happened. The tension in the air was palpable.
“I really should be getting back to work,” Nathan said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. He turned to her. “Miss McCall?”
“Alyssa, please,” she replied. “And I’m ready to leave whenever you are.”
“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” Mr. Clark told her as he walked them out to the front of the store.
“I look forward to it.” She reached for the handle of her suitcase only to find a much larger hand already wrapped around it—again. The warmth of his skin soothed her chilled fingers. Glancing up, she found Nathan Cooper staring down at her.
“Allow me.”
“Thank you, but I think I’ll walk to the boardinghouse after all. The crisp air will do me good.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders, looking almost relieved. “Suit yourself.”
* * *
Releasing his hold on her suitcase, Nathan tipped his hat, then turned toward the aisles of toys. “Let’s go, Cupcake,” he hollered. “Daddy’s gotta get back to work.”
A tiny whine floated through the air somewhere in the vicinity of the doll aisle. “But I’m not done yet,” his daughter said as she stepped into view.
“We’ll come back another time,” he assured her. Right now he just had to get out of there. Away from the festive holiday music and mechanical Christmas characters. Away from the woman who was going to invade his life and stir up memories he’d just as soon forget.
He flexed his hand. The one she’d touched briefly. A light, gentle touch. Accidental. But it had been so long since he’d had any sort of physical contact with anyone other than his daughter it had taken him completely off guard.
“Daddy, what’s this?” his daughter inquired as she skipped up to him.
He stared at the sprig of green tied with a red bow, which she held pinched between her fingers. “It’s mistletoe.”
“Whose toe?”
Alyssa McCall’s soft laughter filled the room. “It’s called mistletoe. Back in eighteenth-century England, if a young woman stood under some mistletoe, brightly trimmed with ribbons, she couldn’t refuse to be kissed. In many cases, that special kiss under the mistletoe led to love and marriage.”
Nathan stared at her in disbelief. Was the woman a walking encyclopedia on holiday traditions?
“It can make people fall in love?” Katie repeated in awe.
Miss McCall nodded. “So they say. Apparently, there’s something very special and romantic about mistletoe.”
“Can we buy some, Daddy?”
“Not today.” Or ever. “Now go put that back where you found it and let’s get going.”
She scowled as she returned the sprig of mistletoe to its hook on the aisle’s end cap display.
“I’d reconsider taking that ride with Nathan to the boardinghouse,” Mr. Clark advised Alyssa as she neared the door, pulling her suitcase behind her. “It’s gonna be a mighty cold walk to the other end of town.”
“In the rain,” Katie added as she bounced over to press her nose against the store’s front window.
“It’s raining?” the woman who had so unsettled Nathan gasped.
“Big fat drops!” his daughter exclaimed.
Alyssa looked his way.
Nathan shrugged. “Looks like they were wrong about the rain not moving in until later.”
“Oh, no.”
“My offer still stands.”
“If you don’t mind,” she replied, looking less than thrilled.
“We don’t mind a bit,” Katie answered for him as she opened the door, letting a gust of wind-blown rain inside. “Daddy’s got a real big truck with a real big seat.”
Rusty’s hearty chuckle followed them out the door.
Nathan swept Katie up in his arms, carrying her out to the truck. The last thing they needed was for her to slip on the wet sidewalk and reinjure her bad leg.
“How old are you?” his daughter asked Miss McCall as they settled into the truck’s roomy cab.
“Katie,” Nathan admonished. Was there ever a more inquisitive child?
“It’s okay,” Alyssa McCall replied with a smile. “I’m used to dealing with children’s questions. I teach art at a recreational center back in San Antonio.”
Her reply took him off guard. “I must have misunderstood. I thought Rusty said you were an interior designer.”
“I am. I have my degree as well as plenty of work experience in the field. However, I’m only working part-time in interior design at the present.” She glanced down at Katie. “And to answer your question, I’m twenty-seven.”
“Are you married?”
“Katie Marie!” he gently reprimanded, staring down at his too-curious-for-her-own-good little girl who was seated on the bench seat between them.
The question didn’t seem to daunt Miss McCall who answered with a simple, “No, Katie, I’m not.”
“My daddy’s—”
“Here we are,” Nathan announced, effectively cutting off his daughter’s reply. The large wooden sign welcoming guests to The Cat’s Cradle swung in the cold, wet, winter wind. It was a welcome sight as he turned into the half-circle drive. A second later, he was pulling up in front of the old Victorian boardinghouse.
Katie