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“Good. And this one has a message for Blitzen. I do hope his stomach feels better. I hate stomach aches.”

“Say goodbye to Santa,” Cormac said, taking Daisy’s hand and walking her across the lobby to the hotel’s Grill restaurant. “Blitzen has a stomach ache?” he asked, struggling to check his exasperation as they approached the entrance.

“Yes. He ate too much green hay.”

“Who told you this?”

“Santa, of course.”

“Daisy, you know you can’t believe everything he says. He’s telling you stories—” he broke off, and bit down hard, molars grinding tight to keep from saying more.

“About the North Pole?”

“There’s no North Pole. There’s no—” he broke off again, hearing himself. Was he really going to do this? Was he going to crush her the way he’d been crushed? His dad had been ruthless. His mom had been broken. Was he going to now break Daisy? Wasn’t she allowed to be innocent?

“What, Daddy?” Daisy whispered, looking up at him wide-eyed.

Cormac hated himself just then. He was in trouble here. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. “Hang on, sweetheart,” he said roughly. “I need to make a call.”

Cormac dropped her hand and turned around, trapped, reaching for his phone. He didn’t really need to phone anyone, he just needed a second to pull himself together.

He couldn’t do this to her.

He couldn’t hurt her.

He had to have more patience and self-control.

“Good morning, Cormac. Good morning, Daisy!” Whitney swooped in then, giving Daisy a big hug and flashing a smile at Cormac.

Her smile slipped as she read his mood. “Everything okay?”

Cormac nodded once. Daisy took Whitney’s hand and held it tightly.

“They should have our table ready,” Whitney said, lifting Daisy’s hand and giving it a kiss. “And I made the reservation in your name. Daisy Sheenan. What do you think of that?”

Whitney knew something was wrong when she’d spotted Cormac and Daisy. Daisy was near tears and Cormac just looked angry.

She waited until they were all seated and Daisy was too busy coloring the Christmas placemat to say anything to Cormac. “I walked up on something. What happened?”

“You’d be disgusted and disappointed in me, and I’m already disgusted and disappointed in myself, so let’s not go there.”

“Okay.” But her gaze swept him from head to toe and she didn’t miss the dark circles under his eyes or the lines etched at his mouth. “You look like hell,” she said under her breath.

“Not getting enough sleep,” he said. “Living off cigarettes and coffee.”

“I didn’t know you smoke.”

“I don’t. I was trying to be funny.”

“I’m worried about you.”

“Maybe you should be.” He dropped his voice, expression pained. “I almost told my daughter there was no S-A-N-T-A Claus.”

Whitney leaned across the table. “What?”

“Kris was really getting to me. And Blizen has a stomach ache and I don’t give a rat’s ass about the naughty or nice list—”

“Daddy!” Daisy exclaimed, looking up from the stocking she’d been scribbling pink. “That’s a bad word, and if you say bad words you won’t get anything from Santa Claus.”

“Yes, I know,” he said grimly. “I’m not expecting much this year.”

“That’s wise,” Whitney answered, lips curving, amused despite all. “I like how you manage your expectations.”

Daisy lifted her head again. “Daddy said there was no North Pole. But I know there is ’cause that’s where Santa and all the reindeer live.” She looked at Whitney. “And Blizen does have a stomach ache and it’s because he did eat too much green hay and I know a lot more things that Santa told me but I will never tell Daddy again because he doesn’t believe, and if you don’t believe then the magic and miracles can’t happen.”

Whitney leaned over and kissed the top of Daisy’s head. “That’s right.” Whitney then looked at Cormac and smiled. “So remember that, Sheenan. If you want the magic and miracles, you better believe.”

His eyes locked with hers. “You’re loving this, aren’t you?”

She nodded and grinned. “I find it rather delightful.”

“I’m telling Santa.”

“Oh, I imagine he already knows.” She held up her hand and showed him two crossed fingers. “Kris and I are like this.”

*

Despite Cormac’s misgivings about one more holiday event, it ended up being a great meal. Daisy loved the special kids’ menu and taking a picture with the two Santa’s helpers that walked around the dining room chatting with the kids.

After they’d finished eating and talking and visiting with the elves, Cormac suggested they go ice skating. Cormac took Daisy upstairs to change into warmer clothes and then once back downstairs, they all headed to Miracle Lake in Cormac’s SUV.

Miracle Lake was a fancy name for what was essentially just a frozen pond in the middle of the woods ten minutes outside of town. In the evenings and weekends, kids would light a bonfire and roast marshmallows. During the day you could rent skates from the shack at the east end of the lake, or buy something hot to drink.

By the time they rented skates and got on the ice, it was feeling a little crowded. Whitney had never been a great skater and it’d been years since she’d last been on the ice and she wobbled her way around, laughing as she struggled not to fall.

Cormac could skate. He and his brothers had all played ice hockey growing up and he moved on the ice the same way he moved off the ice—with confidence and skill.

After a while Cormac suggested Whitney take Daisy’s other hand and they made it around once before Whitney hit a rough patch of ice and lost her balance, pulling everyone down with her.

Cormac broke Daisy’s fall, but Whitney went down hard, landing on her hip. She laughed it off but Cormac saw her limping as she tried to skate back to the side.

“Hurt?” he asked.

She shook her head. “Fine. But I think I’ll sit for a bit and let my bones settle into place.”

“That was a hard fall.”

“I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Why don’t you and Daisy sit here on the bench and I’ll go get us some hot ciders?”

Daisy and Whitney huddled together for warmth on the bench, which was little more than a fallen log dragged close to the edge of the frozen pond.

Cormac returned with three cups, and took a seat at the end, next to Whitney. Sipping their cider, they laughingly relived Whitney

’s spectacular fall.

“It was terrible,” Whitney choked, tapping the back edge of her blades to knock off excess ice. “I feel terrible for bringing you all down with me. Next time I swear I’ll let go of Daisy’s hand.” Whitney wrapped an arm around the girl. “Daisy, you’re sure you’re okay?”

“Yes.” Daisy blew on her cider. “It didn’t hurt at all.”

Whitney turned her head and looked the other way. “How about you? Are you going to be sore tomorrow?”

“I’ll survive,” he said, smiling.

She smiled back at him and his gaze met hers and held. Cormac’s gaze was so warm she went hot all over. It might be freezing outside but he was not.

He wanted her. His desire was a tangible thing and it made her burn. When he looked at her like this, it was far too easy to remember that once upon a time he’d loved her completely. If not emotionally, then certainly physically.

She told herself she didn’t want sex, she wanted love, but the sudden heat between them made her heart race and her blood pound in her veins.

She’d missed him, so very much.

And even though in Marietta, she’d changed hotels, avoided office hours where she might see him, skipped dinners and activities that she could, again to limit contact, all she wanted right now was to be with him. Just being near him made her feel more alive and the world suddenly became more interesting.

*

This time she kissed him.

She leaned in close, and brushed her mouth across his. It was a light, fleeting kiss. A taste, a tease. His mouth was warm and firm. Just that brief touch made everything inside her tingle.

“Do it again,” he dared her, his deep voice raspy.

Her gaze locked with his. Heat flared in his eyes, sending a delicious shiver shooting down her spine.

“You know this stuff will get us into serious trouble,” she answered breathlessly.

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