it be. Like most things, if you let it feel like a chore, then it’s no fun at all.” Pausing beside Julia’s enormous dollhouse, he made a face. “Like this beast. Nick wanted it to be a Christmas Eve surprise, so he shanghaied me to put it together and bring it up here while Julia was gone. Not my favorite kinda job, but since it was for her, I went along.”
“She absolutely adores it,” Lauren told him sincerely. “It was really nice of you to help out.”
“Well, I couldn’t leave Nick to do it himself. He doesn’t know a screwdriver from an impact wrench.”
Neither did Lauren, but she kept that to herself as they went back downstairs. Closing the door behind them, she looked up into those bright blue eyes as they crinkled in a smile. For her, she realized. He was trying to build up her confidence, to drive away some of the uncertainty that had dogged her every step since leaving New York. Who did that for a stranger? she wondered. She’d given him no encouragement whatsoever, and yet he’d still been so kind to her, she couldn’t help wanting to spend more time with him.
Bad idea. Very, very bad.
“Thanks for the advice about the kids,” she said politely. “Have a good day.”
“You, too, princess.”
With that, he sent Julia a quick wave and headed for the door. Lauren tried not to stare after him, really she did. But she couldn’t help herself, and was mortified to realize she was still watching him when Julia glided up next to her and bumped her shoulder.
“Earth to Lauren.”
“Hmm?” Her old friend laughed, and Lauren realized she’d been set up by a pro. Glaring over, she asked, “What were you thinking, tossing us together that way?”
“That you need to meet a nice guy who would treat you the way you deserve.” Nodding at the view outside the front window, she added, “I think Ben fits the bill nicely, don’t you?”
She wanted to deny it, but that would be transparently stupid, so she shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Oh, come on! There’s not a single woman within a hundred miles who wouldn’t kill for the kind of attention you’ve gotten from him today.”
“I’m sure,” Lauren replied primly. “He looks like the cheerleader type.”
“You were a cheerleader,” Julia pointed out, blue eyes twinkling merrily. “I think you two look fabulous together, but there’s more to it than that. He’s a real sweetheart, and you could use some of that in your life. You don’t have to marry him or anything. I was just hoping you two might hit it off and enjoy spending some time together while you’re here.”
“But when you get back from your honeymoon, I’m leaving,” Lauren reminded her.
Julia responded with a cryptic smile. “We’ll see. I came for a two-week vacation and realized this is where I was meant to be. Maybe you’ll do the same.”
“I’m not sure where I belong, but it’s certainly not here.”
“We’ll see,” her friend repeated, going to the door when the bells above it announced the first of their egg-coloring guests.
Lauren was a little baffled by her debate with Julia, but one thing was certain. She had no intention of getting attached to this tiny fishing village or the very appealing Ben Thomas. She’d left behind the life she’d once been convinced she wanted, and she simply didn’t have the heart to open herself up for any more disappointment.
As she crossed into the crafts section of Toyland, she saw there were about ten kids of various ages scattered around while a handful of parents clustered near the coffee and Danishes Julia had set up for them. The boss was her usual brilliant self, chatting up parents and kids with equal enthusiasm. At a loss for what to do, Lauren took a few minutes to assess the situation before jumping in.
To her surprise, a little girl in a pink T-shirt and denim capris approached her. Giving Lauren a quick once-over, she offered up an adorable gap-toothed grin. “You look like you need a friend.”
If this had been an adult, the forthright manner would have startled Lauren. Since she towered over her greeter, though, it was just cute. Hunkering down, she offered her hand. “You can never have too many friends. My name’s Lauren.”
With a firm shake, the girl said, “I’m Hannah Martin. Julia’s going to be my aunt soon.”
Julia gushed about the Martin family, so Lauren felt as if she knew them already. “I hear you’re going to be the flower girl at their wedding. Are you excited?”
“Very. It’s an important job, and I have to do it right. Mommy and Julia took me shopping in Portland to buy me a special dress and fancy white shoes. They’re beautiful,” she added with a dreamy sigh.
Lauren smiled as her memory flipped back to her own childhood, playing princesses with her sisters. What little girl didn’t like dressing up for make-believe? “Are you carrying a basket or a bouquet?”
“Both,” Hannah informed her proudly. “I have to toss rose petals out of the basket, but I get to hold on to my flowers. I’m gonna keep them for-ever.”
“Forever, huh? How long is that?”
Hannah squinted her eyes, scrunching her nose in concentration. “Well, I’m five now, but some people live to be a hundred. Maybe when I’m in kindergarten I can figure it out.”
“No doubt,” Lauren agreed with a laugh. “When you do, let me know.”
“Okay.”
Another girl at the front door squealed her name, and Hannah skipped off to meet her. When Julia had first suggested she help out at Toyland, Lauren hadn’t been sure about the idea. It wasn’t that she disliked children, she mused while she circled the table arranging chairs and supplies for Easter eggs and the coloring contest. She just didn’t have any experience with anything other than rocking her infant nephew.
Apparently, Hannah noticed her apprehension and went out of her way to make Lauren feel welcome. Their lighthearted exchange was a success, and she was warming up to the idea of working here, at least for a while. Hopefully, this was the beginning of good things to come.
“All right, everyone!” Julia announced. “Welcome to Toyland’s very first Easter Egg-stravaganza.”
The parents laughed, but most of the kids looked blankly at each other. Hannah caught on first, and she burst out laughing. “I get it—eggs. That’s funny.”
Julia rewarded her with a bright smile and a slight bow. “We’ve got eggs to color and an art contest to judge. Are you ready to get started?”
They all cheered, and Lauren wisely stepped back while they raced toward the paper-covered tables.
After that, the day flew by in a blur of boiled eggs, crayons, trips to the bathroom and tons of cookies. By her estimate, the kids ranged in age from three to nine, and their artistic ability varied widely. Some preferred pastels, others left their eggs in the dye to take on rich, jewel tones.
Crouching down beside one very intent boy later that afternoon, Lauren caught his name from the tag
