A Fairytale Christmas (4 page)

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Authors: Susan Meier

BOOK: A Fairytale Christmas
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“No worry on that,” Drew answered for Brody. “Max worked us so hard today we’ll probably each need two dinners.”

She laughed and told them to wash up. They left the kitchen, and when they entered the hall Drew saw rows of gold tinsel strung along the now clean walls. They spiraled up the banister of the stairway. Red bows with bright red and gold Christmas tree ornaments accented the tinsel.

Brody glanced around in awe. “Wow!”

Drew looked around, too. “Yeah, wow. I can’t believe she did all this and made dinner.”

Brody said, “I can’t believe how cool this looks.”

Drew peered at him. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. It’s great.”

Drew thought his son a little too old to be awed by a bit of tinsel, but he didn’t mention that. He had noticed the calluses forming on Brody’s hands, because he had corresponding calluses on his own hands, but that moment of camaraderie there in the foyer, looking at the Christmas decorations, made it all worth it. Two days ago Brody would have stormed by the decorations. He wouldn’t have spoken to his dad. Today they’d talked like normal guys. A father and son.

Gwen had been right. Working together was changing Brody. Relaxing him. Bringing back the son Drew remembered.

They returned to the kitchen and Brody complimented Gwen profusely on the decorations. “My mom doesn’t do anything like this,” he said, then dug into his chicken with gusto. “She has these weird blue and pink decorations that don’t look like Christmas at all. But these,” he said, pointing at the hallway, “look like the things we had in elementary school. That was when Christmas really felt like Christmas.”

Drew glanced up at Gwen, who nodded her head slightly in acknowledgement of the silent thanks he’d sent. He’d never thought of his son as deprived, and he certainly wasn’t. But it was sad that his favorite Christmas memories were from so long ago. Maybe that was his fault? Maybe it was Brody’s mom’s? Maybe it was life changing as Brody grew older? But whatever the reason it troubled Drew that Brody believed his best Christmases were a decade behind him.

Fierce fatherly instinct rose up in him. He had three weeks
until Christmas, and somehow, some way, he wanted to make this a Christmas Brody would never forget.

The only problem was…he wasn’t sure how.

CHAPTER FIVE

T
HE
next week, Drew and Brody worked feverishly with Max, removing the last of the debris and cutting trees for customers. But on the Friday before opening day Max called to let them know he couldn’t come over until the afternoon because his wife Sunny had a doctor’s appointment. After a hearty breakfast, Drew and Brody headed for the door.

“Max told us we’d need to replace the missing boards on the old shed,” Drew explained to Gwen as they slid into their outdoor gear. “I think we can handle that on our own.”

“Sure, and why not set up the stand, too?” Brody groused. “It’s not like a morning off after nearly two weeks of slave labor would have been a good idea.”

Seeing the look of confusion that came to Drew’s handsome face, Gwen felt her chest swell with fear. He and his son had been getting along so well that it surprised her that Brody picked this morning to return to being a brat. She suspected Max probably acted like a buffer or referee for them, and worried that after two wonderful weeks of comradeship they’d get into a deal-breaker fight without someone to run interference.

Still, Drew headed to the door and Brody followed him outside. Then they were gone. Out of her sight. There was nothing she could do now about what happened between them.
Fear scuttled through her again, and she knew she had to keep herself busy or she’d fret all morning.

She carted Claire and her baby swing into the living room. Though she’d vacuumed the furniture, walls and carpet of every room to get up the dust, this room had fallen to a place close to the bottom on the “real” cleaning list. Only the formal dining room and guest bedrooms were below it. But today was the day she had to dig in.

She vacuumed everything again, getting any stubborn dust that might have resisted during her initial vacuum, and then washed the windows, walls and woodwork. When the room was clean she glanced around. She’d brought the tinsel and ribbons and ornaments from home to decorate the hallway and make sure Jimmy Lane walked into a pretty entrance in case he made a surprise visit. But now that the room was clean, the fireplace screamed for some tinsel. Maybe stockings, too?

She’d only brought enough decorations for the hallway, and didn’t have anything else at home she could spare. So she headed for the attic. People who didn’t take their furniture usually also left behind the contents of attics and basements. Maybe she’d find some decorations there?

She went upstairs and found a virtual treasure trove. Sealed from the dust and grime of the attic in airtight boxes, the ornaments, lights, tinsel, stockings and Christmas tree star she found were like new. She carted them downstairs, but before she set about decorating she knew she had to put Claire down for a nap.

In the kitchen, making Claire’s bottle, she saw the milk in the fridge and another idea struck her. She’d worried all morning about Drew and Brody, and it was only eleven o’clock. They’d be out there at least another hour before she’d get to see how they’d gotten along without Max. But if she took hot
cocoa out to them she could not only give them a break, she could also see if they were fighting.

She fed Claire, put her down for her nap, made the chocolate and, as casually as she could, took a Thermos of hot cocoa and paper cups outside. Not seeing Drew or Brody anywhere, she peeked into the shed and there they were—standing over some boards so old they were black.

“I think we should carry these boards outside and rebuild the shed out there, rather than rebuild it in here and have to lug it outside.”

Brody leaned negligently against a beam. “Whatever.”

“Come on, Brody. We open tomorrow. We don’t have time for this.”

Deciding that this was a great moment to interrupt them, Gwen stepped into the shed. “Hey! How’s it going? I brought hot chocolate.”

Brody glanced gratefully in her direction. Drew slid off his gloves before he took the Thermos from her hands. “Great. I’m dying of thirst.”

“Yeah, and it’s not like the house isn’t thirty feet away and we could stop for water or anything.”

“If you’re thirsty, all you have to do is go in the house and get a drink—”

“And get the third degree about why I’m leaving?”

Knowing that a real argument was about to ensue, Gwen pointed at the old steel-runner sled hanging on the wall and quickly said, “Hey, look! It’s an old sled.”

Her comment was just confusing enough to stop the men. Both glanced in the direction she pointed.

Drew smiled. “I haven’t seen one of those in ages.”

Gwen turned to Brody. “Do you sled-ride?”

“I snowboard and ski.”

“You would love an old-fashioned sled ride,” she said, then
faced Drew. “Why don’t you two take ten minutes and see if that old thing still works?”

Drew looked at Brody. Brody looked at Drew.

Drew shrugged. “We have to get this shed put together, but we could do that this afternoon, before we go out into the field with Max to cut the last of the trees we’ll need for tomorrow.”

Brody’s eyes lit. “Really? We’re going to take a break?”

“Until this afternoon when Max gets here.” He pointed at the sled. “Pull that down. We’ll see if it works.”

Brody lifted the sled from the rack on the wall.

Drew opened the door for him as he carried it outside. “My dad told me stories about a hill behind the house where he rode a sled—probably this one. Let’s walk back there and see if we can test it out.”

Gwen merrily followed them. Baby monitor in her pocket, she knew she’d hear Claire if she awoke. Plus, they weren’t going too far from the house. She could watch Brody and Drew sled-ride for a few minutes before she had to get back inside to start lunch.

They walked only twenty feet or so past the house before Brody stopped suddenly. “Whoa!”

Drew stopped, too. His laugh echoed down the mountain. “That’s a hill!”

Brody grabbed the sled. “Me first.”

“Absolutely,” Drew said. “You be the guinea pig.”

Brody laughed, threw the sled down and landed on top of it, sending it careening down the slope. His laughter echoed up to Gwen and Drew, who stood side-by-side at the top of the hill.

When Brody reached the bottom and began carrying the sled back Drew turned to Gwen. “Give me the baby monitor and you can go next.”

She stepped back. “That’s okay. I don’t want a ride.”

“Sure you do. I heard you laughing at Brody’s fun.”

She took another step back. “I know, but I’m kind of scared.”

“Scared? Haven’t you ever done this before?”

“When I was ten or twelve. But not lately.”

“It’s fun,” Brody said, cresting the hill, obviously having heard their conversation. He offered the sled to her. “Go ahead.”

She shook her head fiercely.

Drew took the sled from Brody with one hand and caught her hand with the other. Before she knew what he was about to do, she was pushed down on the sled and Drew landed heavily on top of her. She didn’t even have time to squeak out a protest. With the extra weight, the sled didn’t fly down the hill the way it had with only Brody on top. Instead, it careered drunkenly. When they hit the bottom, it tilted. Drew rolled off and Gwen rolled on top of him, the breath knocked out of her.

She sucked in some air, then some more, then suddenly realized she was on top of Drew. He blinked up at her. She stared down at him. In that moment they weren’t a boss and his assistant. He wasn’t old. She wasn’t young. They were just two people. Two people incredibly attracted to each other.

The air suddenly became heavy with promise. All she had to do would be to let her head fall a bit and she could kiss him. All he had to do would be to slide his hand a fraction of an inch and he could be touching her bottom.

“Hey! You guys aren’t hurt, are you?” Brody’s voice got closer with every word, and Gwen realized he was running down the hill. His boots stopped beside her and she raised her gaze to look at him.

“We’re fine.” But her voice came out as a croak. She’d been
fighting this thing with Drew ever since she first saw him. He was too good-looking. Any woman would find him attractive. But lying on top of him as she was had somehow made it all real. Everything that had seemed vague and dreamlike about considering a relationship with him suddenly felt real.

Possible.

Brody held his hand out to her. “Here.”

She glanced at Drew. Their eyes locked. And it didn’t take a genius to know his thoughts had gone in the same direction hers had.
That
was why it all suddenly felt possible. They weren’t merely attracted, they were becoming friends. Sort of. When they weren’t arguing or negotiating.

Realizing she had lingered a little too long, she took Brody’s hand. He hoisted her up and she brushed the snow off her jacket and jeans. Then she checked the baby monitor, breathing a sigh of relief when it was not only in one piece, but also silent.

She waved the monitor at the Teaberrys. “I better go check on Claire.”

She didn’t even wait to see Drew’s reaction. She simply headed up the hill, walked into the house, checked on her sleeping baby and started lunch.

She refused to think about the possibility she’d felt at the bottom of that snowy hill. Though she did laugh. Damned if he hadn’t gotten her on the sled.

She made lunch—soup and sandwiches—but didn’t eat with the Teaberrys. As they laughed and talked about sledding, tingles of awareness pirouetted through her, so she excused herself and went back to work on decorating the living room. She liked Drew. She liked him a lot. Yes, they had their differences, but in some ways that was what made their relationship interesting.

She groaned in her head. Now she was calling what they
had a
relationship?
She was getting too connected to him and his son, and when they left she was going to be hurt. She remembered very well how it had felt to be left behind by Nick when she’d told him she was pregnant. She remembered the pain. The chest-tightening sadness that the man she’d thought she loved didn’t care enough about her to help her through a pregnancy. It had taken six months to get beyond her depression and another three to feel happy again. Did she really want to repeat all that pain when she had a chance to avoid it simply by keeping her distance from her boss?

Determined to forget about Drew, she lost herself in Christmas decorating. Stockings were hung on the marble fireplace mantel. Evergreen bows with red velvet ribbons were strung along the top of the tan brocade drapes that covered the two front windows. Santa and Mrs. Santa figurines were placed on the coffee table between the two green plaid sofas that flanked the fireplace. Elf figurines were scattered around the room, making the place look like Santa’s workshop.

She was so engrossed in her work that she didn’t hear Drew approach until he said, “Wow.”

She spun to face him. “You like it?” Her face reddened when she realized how eager she sounded for his approval. She cleared her throat and toned down her enthusiasm. “I found these decorations upstairs. There are boxes of them.”

He stepped into the room. “It’s perfect.” He glanced around, then pointed at the space in front of the side-by-side windows. “Except I think you need a tree.”

She laughed. “Here I am at a Christmas tree farm and I don’t have a tree.”

He looked over at her. His dark eyes sparked with appreciation and something else. Something deeper. Something that made her tummy shimmy, her pulse scramble, and a wave of heat fall from her head to her toes. The feeling of promise
she’d felt lying on top of him at the bottom of the hill returned full force.

“I’ll get you one.”

She swallowed and nodded, and then he was gone. Gwen collapsed on the sofa. She wasn’t really sorry she’d taken cocoa out to him and Brody. She wasn’t really sorry she’d suggested they sled-ride. She almost wasn’t sorry they’d landed on top of each other at the bottom of a snowy hill.

But she had absolutely no idea how she’d handle the ramifications of any of it.

 

Drew walked straight through the kitchen, grabbed his coat, and went out into the snowy afternoon. He needed the drop in temperature to cool down. Gwen wasn’t just cute and sweet. It was as if she read his mind. Everything he needed to have done, she did. Including decorate for Christmas for his son. If he weren’t her boss, he wouldn’t be able to resist her.

But he was her boss. He was also twelve years older. And he was a workaholic. And she—

He stopped. Snow fell heavily on his shoulders and caught on his eyelashes as he stood confused in the circular driveway of his family’s first home. He really didn’t know anything about Gwen. He knew she had a child. He knew she had a twin. She’d helped him with his son, cleaned this mess of a house so he could now live in it, cooked, and acted as his administrative assistant and he knew virtually nothing about her.

Was he selfish or was it self-preservation? After all, it wouldn’t be smart for them to get involved. Not only were they wrong for each other, but he was leaving soon. And she would—

Damn. He had no idea what she’d do when he left. When he’d tried to fire her she’d told him she desperately needed
this job, but he hadn’t thought far enough ahead to realize she might not have a way to make money once he was gone.

A bubble of protectiveness formed in his chest. She’d negotiated a little more money from him than the original salary they’d agreed upon, but when he was gone he had no idea how she’d support herself and Claire.

He shook his head resolutely. He couldn’t think about that. She was a smart, savvy adult who would be fine. If he meddled in her life they’d get closer, and he might not be able to pull away when the time came. And that would be a disaster. She was young enough and pretty enough that she’d probably forget about him two weeks after he was gone. And then where would he be? Alone in North Carolina, feeling hopeless and dejected, aching with hurt as he had when Olivia left him.

He headed for the shed, hoping Max had arrived so he could get his mind off Gwen. Instead he passed her beaten-up car, and saw that at least four inches of snow had accumulated since her arrival and the storm was just getting started. She’d be driving down a mountain road in a foot of snow tonight.

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