Sue always kept on hand, then carried the plate and a glass of water back into the living room.
Maddie beamed with delight when he returned, which sent a little burst of warmth through him, as if he had stepped into a sunbeam. Her mother, on the other hand, looked less than thrilled and even a little surprised, as if she hadn’t really expected him to follow through.
Who had disappointed her so badly? Her husband? Questions about the man simmered just below the surface. He wanted to ask what had happened to him but he couldn’t do that with Maddie there.
“Do you want anything?” He held the plate out to both of them. Eliza shook her head but her daughter reached for an apple wedge and a piece of cheese.
“Any idea where Sue might be?” he asked.
“Lying down, I hope. She had a migraine so I urged her to take a rest. I hope that’s okay.”
He stared. “Okay, what’s your secret? You actually persuaded Sue to stop for five minutes in the middle of the day? How on earth did you manage that?”
“It wasn’t hard. It helped that she really didn’t feel well. I told her she wouldn’t be able to take care of anyone if she didn’t care for herself first. That seemed to do the trick.”
“And you don’t see the irony here? The day after being hit by an SUV, you won’t be persuaded out of wearing yourself out by decorating a Christmas tree.”
“This is fun, not work,” she said, with that appealing blush soaking her cheekbones again.
He could quickly grow addicted to teasing out that color.
The thought and the sudden fierce, simmering attraction beneath it unnerved him.
What was the matter with him? She was lovely, yes, with that soft spill of hair, those big green eyes framed by the dark fringe of lashes, the little tracery of pale freckles on her nose. But he could think of a dozen reasons why he had no business wanting to lick the very center of that plump bottom lip, to explore those luscious curves and nuzzle that soft curve of her neck.
He couldn’t imagine a worse time for him to become embroiled in a relationship—or with a more unlikely woman.
Applying the same concentration and determination he used at Caine Tech, he worked hard to shove down the attraction and turn his attention to the matter at hand.
He picked up an ornament in each hand. “It’s been a few years since I’ve decorated a Christmas tree. What do we do here?”
“It’s easy,” Maddie declared. “Just hang them where Mama tells you.”
He laughed. “Fair enough. I await your command, then.”
He told himself not to be delighted by her rueful smile.
“I’m not a control freak usually, I swear,” she said. “If this were our tree, I would let her hang the ornaments any which way. Isn’t that right, honey?”
Maddie nodded her head. “But your tree is super fancy so we have to be careful.”
“I only thought you might be a little more discriminating, especially as you’re entertaining guests for the holidays,” Eliza explained.
“Guests who honestly won’t care if the ornaments on the Christmas tree are upside down or sideways or clustered all together, I promise.”
“They might not care, but I do. I want Snow Angel Cove to be perfect for you and your family. That’s why you hired me, isn’t it?”
In light of this attraction, he was beginning to question his own motives for wanting to keep her around, but he decided it probably wouldn’t be wise to mention that to her.
“All right. We’re going for perfection. I can do that. From here on out, I’ll climb the ladder and take the higher branches. Your job is to hand me more ornaments when I need them and to keep an eye out and be sure I’m not making a mess of things.”
She made a face. “Right.”
“What this party needs is a little Christmas music.”
“I know!” Maddie concurred. “I can keep singing but my voice is a little tired.”
“You need a break. Let me see if I can find something.”
One of the first things he had insisted upon after purchasing a house was the installation of a top-of-the-line entertainment system that could stream throughout the house. He had yet to crank up the classic rock like he did sometimes at his house in San Jose.
He opened the cabinet that held the components and punched in a few criteria, then let the server search for music online while he returned to the Christmas tree. Soon, soft, jazzy holiday music filled the great room from the built-in speakers.
“That sounds nice,” Maddie said.
“Definitely,” her mother agreed.
“It’s unanimous, then. We’re officially ready to get our tree decorating on.”
He grabbed several of the ornaments and climbed the stepladder, ignoring the slight unsteadiness in his equilibrium. His own sense of balance wasn’t the greatest yet and he probably shouldn’t be scrambling up and down ladders, either, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.
While the snow continued to fall outside the huge windows with relentless abandon and the flames in the grate danced and swayed, they worked together to decorate the tree.
Maddie chattered about Christmas and about the vast variety of angel decorations on the tree—most that Sue had unearthed in a box in the attic that had been left over from the previous owners.
As they worked, Aidan was aware of an odd feeling, so rare for him, especially lately, that he didn’t recognize it at first. Peace. A soft, sweet contentment seemed to seep through him as Eliza handed him ornaments with instructions about where to hang them. At first, she was hesitant, as if afraid to overstep by telling him what to do, but it didn’t take long before they fell into a comfortable rhythm.
“I need to get a drink,” Maddie announced just as he finished the top branches.
“Okay. Come right back,” Eliza said.
Her absence left a conversational void that even Tony Bennett’s smooth version of “My Favorite Things” couldn’t quite fill.
“I haven’t done this in years,” he said. “The Christmas-decorating thing, I mean. Probably since I left home for MIT. My roommate in college used to put up a little tree but I was too busy to bother. After college, it always seemed like too much effort, until I could afford to hire a decorator to do it for me.”
That sounded pretty pitiful, when he thought about it.
“Was Christmas a big deal at your house?” she asked.
“Definitely.” He thought of crazy mornings around the Christmas tree and the frenzy of gifts and ribbons and wrapping paper. The Hope’s Crossing Christmas Eve candlelight ski had always been one of his favorite traditions at home, where
