Authors: Karen Erickson
Tags: #Category, #short romance, #playboy reformed, #older brother's best friend, #love, #lone pine lake, #series, #jane's gift, #Contemporary, #thanksgiving, #Romance, #bliss, #entangled, #overcoming emotional odds, #karen erickson, #baby on the doorstep, #holidays, #christmas
“You’re welcome,” he said as he brought himself back up to his full height, his gaze locked on Jane’s face. “And you can call me Chris.”
Heady warmth washed over her at the expression he wore, the careful way he watched her. She forgot that her children were yelling at her from the front of the cab—“Look at me, Mama!”—and forgot that Sophia was rocking back and forth in her stroller demanding more popcorn.
“Mooom-meee!” Jane startled at the sound of Lexi yelling at her, and she turned to see her two children with their heads poking out of the open window of the engine, Chip the firefighter standing just below them on the ground. “Hi!”
Jane returned Lexi’s frantic wave, then shrugged at Chris. “They can be kind of demanding, huh?”
“I’ll say. But they sure are cute.” He still watched them. “Seems like they’re not as worried about fire anymore, huh?”
“You helped a lot—thank you. And I talked to them that night, after the visit. Showed them the Smokey Bear comic book you gave me.” She couldn’t admit to Chris her new suspicion, that
she
was the one with the irrational fear, not them. “We even had Mac over last night and he showed them how to light a fire. The kids roasted marshmallows.”
“I bet they loved that.”
“They did. Made s’mores and everything.”
His gaze met hers yet again and he breathed deeply, as if for courage or…something. Nerves warred within her stomach and she wondered if she was overreacting.
Of
course
she was overreacting. Whatever attraction she felt between the two of them was surely one-sided on her part.
And it wasn’t as if she would act on it.
“What are you doing Friday night?”
Her eyes went wide, much like Lexi’s had earlier, and she swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. Maybe it hadn’t been so one-sided after all?
“This upcoming Friday?” Her voice squeaked and she winced.
“Yeah.” Chris nodded, glanced about as if making sure no one could overhear him. “I wanted to know if you’d like to come to the spaghetti feed at the rec hall.”
She widened her eyes, surprise filling her. “They still do that?”
Chris chuckled, the sound making her spine shiver and settling warm and low in her belly. He had a nice laugh and it came easily, as if he did it often, and she smiled in response. “They do. It’s our first fund-raiser for the holiday toy drive. The dinner is the kickoff.”
“Oh, I remember. I’ve been to a few of those before.”
“Sure you have, being a local and all.” That easy smile was back, as if he gained confidence by getting the awkward stuff out of the way. “So what do you say? You and the kids want to go?”
She knew he was only doing this to be nice. Because she was the lonely, scarred widow back in town and her children had instantly liked him. So he was being polite by extending an invitation.
“My treat,” he added.
“Oh, I can pay the donation fee,” she offered. It was usually no more than ten dollars per person and she knew it contributed to the toy drive. No child should celebrate Christmas empty-handed.
“I asked you to go, Jane,” he murmured, and she thrilled at the sound of her name on his lips. “Let me pay for you and the kids.”
A slow smile curved her mouth and something like hope, warm, illuminating, began to flicker inside her. “All right, then—I accept your invitation.”
…
Her smile sent what felt like a million zings straight through him and his heart beat extra hard, as if he’d just run a marathon at a sprint.
Since she’d left the fire station last week, he’d thought of her. She came to him in his dreams. Hot, fevered dreams and even sweet, pleasant ones in which Jane watched him, with her pretty green eyes, as if he hung the moon. As if her world started and ended with him in it.
He knew what triggered that feeling, those particular dreams. He’d hung out at Mac’s house a few nights ago to watch the football game. He’d never noticed it before, but one shelf of a bookcase in the living room was cluttered with framed photos of various family members. When Mac had been in the kitchen grabbing more beer, Chris checked out those photos, searching for a glimpse of Jane before the accident.
And he’d found it. A family portrait with the children at her feet, Sophia just a baby in her arms and her husband standing by her side. His arm was looped around her shoulders and there was a big smile on her face as she stared up at her husband as if she saw no one else.
That photo had given him a slight pang, even though he knew he had no right to feel jealous seeing Jane happy with another man. Her husband. Her dead husband.
But the adoring expression on her face in that photograph had stayed with him ever since.
Mac had eventually caught him looking, and Chris brushed it off by turning it around on him, giving Mac grief for all the family photos. Mac had blamed his mom for leaving them there and they let the conversation go, much to Chris’s relief.
He didn’t want to admit to Mac that he had a slight thing for his older sister. A thing he didn’t really understand, yet one he considered exploring, despite his reluctance to pursue any sort of relationship with a woman. Especially one who was a widow with kids…
Yeah. He’d lost his mind completely.
Not knowing how she’d react to his attention and afraid she might turn him down if he asked her out on a bona fide date, he went the chicken route, inviting her to the spaghetti feed of all things. With the safe cover of her children in attendance, too.
And she’d said yes. She still stood in front of him, in fact, pushing Sophia’s stroller back and forth as if to soothe her while she watched her children play in the cab of the fire engine. She had on yet another bulky sweater today, this one an oversize navy blue cardigan over a simple white T-shirt and jeans. Her hair was a little wavy, curling around her face in a flattering manner that made her look even younger than she really was. Certainly not old enough to be a mom of three rambunctious kids and with a heavy, weary world upon her shoulders.
“Do you want to meet at the hall on Friday? What time does it start?” she asked.
He grimaced, hadn’t even thought that far ahead. “It starts at six, but I have to be there at four to help set up. I’m practically in charge of it this year.” Roped into it because of his position, but he actually enjoyed helping out, and there was nothing better than seeing the pure joy on the kids’ faces when they received all those toys for Christmas.
“I don’t mind meeting you there. I understand you have to work.” The expression on her face said just that, too.
Past women in his life had resented his job taking up so much of his time, especially during the summer. Hearing Jane say she understood was refreshing.
“It’s a wonderful thing, what you’re doing,” she continued. “I can’t imagine not having the resources to make my children’s Christmas special.”
“I know; it’s tough. I’ve helped out before with delivering the presents, and there’s nothing better than seeing those little faces light up when they see what we brought them. It’s the best feeling,” he admitted.
“I bet it is.” She smiled and took a hesitant step closer to him, close enough that he could smell her sweet, delectable scent. “It’s so great of you to volunteer like that. You’re such a nice guy.”
Chris wanted to groan out loud. Great. So she thought he was
nice
. Which was fine, really, since he wasn’t interested in the pretty widow. Well, there
was
that chemistry thing they had going on, but he didn’t even know her, had only talked to her now twice. Still, there was this pull, this inexplicable need to learn more about her. He hoped he wasn’t playing with fire—he had enough of that in his daily life.
Yet Chris had a feeling the widow Jane was worth a few burns.
Chapter Three
“Do you need any help getting out of the car, Jane?”
She rolled her eyes at Mindy and grabbed the door handle. “I think I can manage.”
Her big sister called after her as Jane slid out of her seat, “Hey, I’m just trying to be nice.”
Mindy was always trying to be nice. She was the nice sister, the good sister. The one who could do anything and everything and it always turned out perfectly. Jane had developed a love-hate relationship with her when they were kids, but they had been growing closer ever since Jane moved back to Lone Pine Lake. And she was finding out life wasn’t as perfect as Mindy had always made it out to be.
“So Marty’s not coming home for the weekend?” Jane opened the passenger door and slid her children out of the middle seat of her sister’s SUV. Mindy’s two kids sat in the back.
Mindy shrugged and slammed her door with a bit of extra force. “He’s staying in San Francisco. Says the conference ran over and he can’t come home until Sunday night.”
Jane said nothing. It didn’t sound right. Ever since she’d come home, things between Mindy and her husband hadn’t been good. Yes, every marriage had its problems—Jane and Stephen hadn’t been immune to it, either; they’d had their issues just like everyone else. But she’d always been able to trust Stephen.
She wasn’t sure about Marty. Heck, she’d barely seen him since she’d moved back to Lone Pine, and she’d been there for months already. And Mindy seemed so brittle lately, like she’d break at any moment. Mindy complained about him and their marriage constantly.
Jane mused on this as they all walked together to the front entrance of the town rec hall. When the children ran ahead of them, Jane was surprised to see a line at the door, though at least it seemed to be moving quickly. It was cold outside and an early winter storm was headed their way, bringing with it plenty of rain for the weekend. Jane’s thin skin ensured she was cold the majority of the time.
When they got to the front door, a woman sat behind a table, taking everyone’s money and handing them entrance tickets. Mindy whipped out her wallet and waved her hand in Jane’s direction. “I’ve got it for all of us.”
“Oh, Min, you don’t have to do that…”
“No, no, I insist. It’s for charity, after all. Marty’s always telling me we need write-offs.”
“But—”
“Jane, seriously, learn how to take a gift.” She started to hand over her cash to the older woman sitting behind the fold-out table. “Two adults, five children, please.”
The woman shook her head, jerking her thumb in Jane’s direction. “She’s already paid for, and her kids, too.”
“What?” Mindy handed over only one twenty and turned to look at Jane. “Did you prepay?”
Jane shook her head as they moved away from the table. “I was trying to tell you. Our tickets were paid for by…someone else.”
“Who?” Mindy’s voice rose and a sparkle shone in her eyes. “Ah, my little sister is holding out on me! Always the secret keeper, just like when you were a kid.”
“I didn’t keep secrets from anyone,” Jane denied, but Mindy just laughed.
“You kept secrets all the time. As if you enjoyed holding that little tidbit of whatever you had close to your chest. Savoring it.” Mindy shook her head. “Let’s get a table and you can tell me all about your mystery benefactor.”
Did she want to tell Mindy about Christian? There was nothing to tell, really. She didn’t want to admit her crush on Christian Nelson, not yet. What if her sister thought she was out of line? Guilt hung over her, heavy and dull. Over time she’d grown used to Stephen’s passing, but in Mindy’s eyes, would she look like she was moving too fast?
Jane refused to let survivor’s guilt hang on her like a cloak of shame. Nearly two years was long enough to mourn a person. Stephen wouldn’t want her to stop living, would he? Just because he was gone?
“I can’t stand it any longer. Tell me who bought your tickets!” Mindy demanded the minute they’d settled themselves at a table. The kids had already run off to do who knows what, though Sophia still sat perched on Jane’s lap.
“You have no patience, do you?” Jane teased with a little smirk.
“It was Mac, wasn’t it? He told me he wasn’t coming to this.”
“He’s not. He has a hot date. And no, he didn’t pay for our tickets.”
“He has a hot date? With whom? Remember, I’m an old married lady. I have to live vicariously through all of you.” Mindy paused, her gaze dropped to the table. “Y-you know what I mean.”
Right. Jane sometimes forgot she wasn’t the old married lady anymore, either. She’d started her life with Stephen at such a young age—only twenty years old when they’d gotten married. She’d known then that he was the one. So why waste time?
Now she was single again. Well, widowed. And didn’t that have a pitiful sound to it?
“I do know what you mean. And trust me, I’m not that exciting. Mac’s the one with girls falling at his feet.”
Mindy’s gaze lifted, a laugh sounding from her lips. “He’s young, cute, and single. A rarity in these parts.”
Jane could think of another man who was young, cute, and single. Why didn’t
he
have to beat women off with a stick? Maybe he did, and she should’ve done her research first, not just relied on Mac’s word. He was a
guy
. What did he know?
She should’ve talked to Mindy from the get-go.
“Min, what do you know about Christian Nelson?”
Mindy’s brows drew together and she opened her arms, letting Sophia crawl onto her lap. “The fire captain? I know he and Mac are friends. I hear he’s a nice guy, but he dates around a lot.”
Great, so he
was
a serial dater. Was she just another woman to add to his list? And why would he choose her, considering all the baggage she came with?
Jane glanced around the room. She didn’t want anyone to hear her, especially Chris himself. “He’s the one who paid for our tickets.”
Mindy’s mouth dropped open and she stared silently for so long, Jane started to squirm in her seat. “So is this some sort of date or what?” she finally asked.
“I honestly don’t know.” Jane shrugged, feeling more than a little stupid. “Mac arranged for us to go to the fire station and Chris gave us the tour. He was so nice, so wonderful with the kids, especially Lexi. I wanted them to realize that fire wasn’t always a bad thing, you know? But they accepted the visit so easily. Mac came over a few days ago and lit a fire and it was no big deal. I…I wonder if I’m the one with the problem.”
“That’s okay. I mean, it’s expected. And the first part of conquering a problem is admitting you have a problem, right?” Mindy gently prodded. “So, that must’ve been some visit if you had Mister Hot Pants asking you out on a date.”
Jane’s cheeks heated and she waved her hand as if dismissing the entire thing. “Stop it. He seems like a great guy. He’s also really handsome; I can’t deny that. But I think he’s just being nice, you know?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we ran into him at that little art fair last Saturday and he asked what I was doing this Friday night. Then he asked us to come here and offered to pay for our tickets.”
“Sounds like a date with the kids to me.”
“Well, kind of. Except he’s volunteering tonight.” She’d caught a glimpse of him working the room only a moment ago, a large silver pitcher clutched in his right hand, all smiles and friendly nods and full of
hey neighbor
greetings. Watching him serve drinks to everyone left her warm, a little giddy. “So really, it’s not a date. It’s just him being nice to the sad little widow and helping her during tough times. Getting her to come out and be social again.”
“Oh, God, only you would tear down a man’s intentions and make yourself sound like a charity case. Honey, what if he actually
is
interested in you?”
And with that question, Mindy had her. Okay, so maybe she wanted Christian Nelson to be interested in her. Because she was interested in him right back.
So much easier, though, to think he’d made his offer out of kindness. Then she wouldn’t be disappointed when she realized he
wasn’t
interested.
“No,” Jane finally answered with a quick shrug of her shoulders. “Okay, maybe? But I shouldn’t. Stephen hasn’t been gone that long.”
“And what, you’re supposed to shut off and live like a nun for the rest of your life? It’s been two years, Jane. You’re only twenty-eight. And you’ve made it, despite the odds. I think that’s plenty of reason for you to live a little.”
“By having a crush on a too-handsome man?” Jane’s nose wrinkled and she glanced his way yet again. He was moving closer and closer to their table.
“Ooh, so you really do like him.” Mindy grinned and hugged Sophia close, who squirmed in her aunt’s embrace. “That’s so cute!”
“Keep it down.” Jane looked around yet again. “Listen, do you know anything about him at all? Does he go through women like wash rags or what?”
“From what I’ve heard, he’s friendly, hardworking, and has to fight off all the women who go ga-ga over a guy in uniform.” Mindy winced. Truth hurts and all. “But he’s also supposed to be a complete workaholic who’s married to his job. He dates, but not for long.”
“Where do you hear all this?”
“Honey, this town is small and he’s still considered new here. Us natives like to speculate and gossip about the outsiders, especially when one is young, good-looking, and unattached.” Mindy rolled her eyes. “You know how it goes.”
Jane stayed quiet, processing everything Mindy had revealed. Chris dated but he wasn’t serious about it. And he was married to his job. Her husband’s career as a headhunter for a large banking corporation had been the most important thing in his life too, and sometimes Jane had felt like he neglected her and their children. He did it for them, he’d always said. He needed to make sure his family was well taken care of.
Never again would she sacrifice herself and her children for a man’s job. She hadn’t found fault in Stephen for too many things, but his lack of time for his family had always been an issue. If he knew his life would be cut so short, would he have devoted so much time to his career? Or would he have spent more time with his wife and children?
“Well, I’m sure it’s completely farfetched to think he’d want to date
me
,” Jane said, nerves starting to clamor again in her stomach. Gosh, he was so close now she could practically feel him. And here she worried over Chris being a workaholic like Stephen, when what she really couldn’t forget was how dangerous his job was, too…
“You never know,” Mindy said with a sly smile. “And here comes trouble now.”
“Hey.” A warm hand touched her shoulder briefly and she knew without looking who that hand belonged to.
Christian Nelson stood directly behind her. It still felt as if he touched her—he was so close—and Mindy stared up at him, a slightly dazed expression on her face.
“Hi,” Jane said. She watched as he pulled out the empty chair next to her and sat on the edge, the shiny silver pitcher still clutched in his hand.
“How are you?” he asked. “You get in okay? They didn’t hassle you, did they?”
He looked good, extra good tonight for some reason. Noticing the touch of curl in his hair, the urge to run her fingers through it was so strong she clutched her hands in her lap.
Dressed in his uniform, he wore a long-sleeved, snowy white thermal shirt beneath, and it clung to his muscular arms in a tantalizing way. A way that made her want to smooth her hands up his arms and feel every bunch and sinew flex beneath her fingertips.
Oh yes, she had it bad. She needed to compose herself.
“No hassles; we got right in.” Jane nodded in Mindy’s direction and Chris glanced her way. “This is my sister, Mindy.”
“We’ve met,” Mindy said, shooting him a big smile. “Nice seeing you again.”
“Where’s your husband tonight, Mindy?”
Mindy’s eyes dimmed, her entire expression growing dark. “Working. Hey, I’ll get plates for the kids, get them settled. I’ll bring Sophia with me. We’ll be back in a few.”
“Oh, Mindy, let me help you,” Jane started, but her sister shook her head as she stood, Sophia clutching her hand.
“Stay here and relax. I’ll take care of them tonight. You have fun.”
Jane watched her sister walk away, a hint of panic making her heart race. She was alone with Chris, no children to distract her, just the two of them, looking at each other.
Well, just the two of them surrounded by approximately seventy-five local residents, but who was counting?
“You haven’t eaten yet?”
She shook her head and rested her hands on the table, making sure to cover her left with her right. “We just got here a few minutes ago.”
“Ah, I didn’t see you walk in. I’ve been busy. Water maintenance.” He lifted the pitcher. “I’m still on duty but wanted to stop by and talk to you.”
“Do you work all night?” It would be almost safer if he did have to work instead of sit with her and make small talk. Or pretend that they were on some sort of actual date.
Because this
definitely
did not count as a date.
“I’m finished in about a half hour. I helped set up, I’ve been here since four, and I’m beat. Plus, I’m starving.” He smiled and scooted his chair closer to hers. “You look pretty tonight, Jane.”
A thrill moved through her at his words, the way he said her name. She’d taken extra care with her appearance that night, wanting to impress despite her doubts, and it appeared her effort hadn’t been in vain. “Thank you.”
She clutched her hands atop the table, wringing her fingers together, and his gaze lingered there. “You have the smallest hands.”
Ah, just what she hadn’t wanted to do—draw attention to her hands. But she may as well face reality. If she was going to spend any more time with him, then she needed to discuss what had happened to her. “I used to sew a lot. Before the accident.”
“You did?”
She nodded, suddenly feeling stupid for even bringing it up. He was a guy. He wouldn’t care about her old sewing hobby. “I even had a small business for a while. I made aprons and sold them.”
He chuckled, though not as if he were laughing at her. More like she’d surprised him with her revelation. “Really? Women still wear aprons? I mean, no offense, but it seems kind of old-fashioned. Something my grandma might’ve done. I’m sure she still does, actually.”