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“What kind of woman leaves her child?” Christie frowned, trying and failing to understand how someone could do that.
“The same kind of woman who thinks she can do better than Luke Grayson.”
Another concept Christie was trying and failing to understand. Not only was he gorgeous, but he was kind. He exuded a warmth that made her want to curl into him, to wrap herself around him and then untangle from him just so she could sink into that warmth all over again.
Well, shit.
Christie shrugged around the sinking sensation that maybe she’d made a huge mistake. God, she hated how little she trusted her judgment these days. “Anyway. That’s all that happened. Just the repairs.”
Shannon pointed her cookie at her, eyebrow once again quirked. “Liar. But I won’t force it out of you. I’m also sorely tempted to make some dirty jokes about carpenters, wood, and getting nailed, but I’ll restrain myself.”
“Dr. Harmon, please report to radiology. Dr. Harmon to radiology.” The metallic voice rang through the overhead speaker system.
“That’s my cue.” Christie popped the last bite of cookie into her mouth and adjusted her stethoscope around her neck as she headed off down the hall.
* * *
December 5
Luke wrapped his fingers around the paper cup filled with hot chocolate, absorbing the heat. Frost lined the windowpanes of the Paramount Café, and a gust of icy air blew in every time a customer entered, seeking out the cozy warmth of the coffee shop. Now that the sun was setting, the temperature was dropping rapidly, inching closer and closer to zero. Crowds lined the streets outside the café, lawn chairs, sleeping bags and blankets in tow, a warm, anticipatory buzz filling the freezing air as they waited for the parade to start. Burl Ives wished everyone a “Holly Jolly Christmas” through the café’s sound system, and a melancholy ache tugged at Luke’s chest, which was ridiculous. He’d been shot down by women before.
So why did this hurt so much?
A part of him wanted to follow Matt’s advice, find Christie and convince her that she’d made a mistake. The other part of him—the part with a brain—knew it was best if he kept his distance.
“Dad? Don’t you think?” Ethan peered up at him, his own hot chocolate clutched in his hands.
Luke raised his eyebrows and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Sorry, I was zoned out. What do I think about what?”
Ethan’s eyebrows knit together, and his eyes flicked between Luke and the window. “I was telling you why Minecraft is cooler than ROBLOX.” He stuck his wrist out to check his Avengers watch. “Dad! The parade starts in seven minutes. If we don’t go, like, now, we won’t get spots.” Without waiting for an answer, Ethan hopped down off his chair and pushed his arms into his coat, heading for the door, his eyes glued to the window.
Luke laid a hand on his shoulder. “Excuse me, but where do you think you’re going without putting your hat and mittens on? It’ll be pretty hard to play Minecraft when all your fingers freeze off.”
Ethan rolled his eyes—oh, God, he was only eight and he was already rolling his eyes—but handed his hot chocolate to Luke to hold while he tugged on his hat and mittens. As they pushed out into the quickly darkening street, cold air whipped around them, and although Luke wanted to tuck Ethan’s hand in his, he didn’t. Ethan would just pull it away and give him a withering look while informing him that only babies held hands with their parents. Which was why he was so surprised when Ethan grabbed his hand and began tugging him through the growing crowd gathered along Capitol Avenue.
“You see a good spot?” he asked, allowing himself to be led though the happy throngs of people, the scent of apple cider, cinnamon, and pine filling the air. The lighting displays decorating the storefronts shone merrily, imbuing the early evening with a warm, festive glow. Ethan nodded enthusiastically, craning his neck and continuing to weave his way through the groups of people milling about. They reached the corner of Capitol and West 17th, and Ethan stopped, pulling up against the barrier separating the road from the sidewalk, the large Wells Fargo building directly behind them.
And then he saw her. He couldn’t miss her, seeing as Ethan had brought them to a stop right beside Christie.
“What are you doing?” He bent and whispered in Ethan’s ear, keeping his back to Christie. He didn’t know what to say to her. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to have noticed them yet.
“I’m wingmanning. You’re welcome.” His eyes shone with mirthful mischief, and then he leaned into Luke, pushing him ever so slightly in Christie’s direction. Luke cringed as he felt his shoulder graze against her.
“Luke?” Her soft, Southern lilt washed over him, and somehow hearing her voice made the ache in his chest even more pronounced.
“Hi, Christie. Sorry about that.” He tipped his head down toward where their arms had bumped.
She shrugged, smiling. “No harm done. Listen, about the other day . . .” She trailed off as the parade began and the high school’s marching band approached, a loud, brassy version of “Jingle Bells” drowning everything else out, which was just fine with him. He didn’t want to talk about the other day.
He shook his head after the band had passed. “It’s okay. No explanation necessary.”
She nodded, chewing her bottom lip, and an awkward silence filled the mere inches separating them. A line of classic cars decked out in flashing Christmas lights cruised down the street in front of them. If he hadn’t come to the parade for Ethan, he would’ve excused himself, trying to scrape together some dignity. Because even though she’d rejected him, he was keenly aware of her body beside his, of the sweet, feminine scent drifting up from her. The twinkling lights of a passing float sparkled against her hair, shining like liquid gold spilling out from under her knit ski hat.
“I think maybe an explanation is necessary.” She looked up at him, her bottom lip caught once again between her teeth.
“Really, it’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. I was rude. And I want you to know something.” She angled her body to face him, and laid a hand on his arm. “It’s not that I wouldn’t like to have dinner with you. I actually really would, although I realize that ship might’ve sailed. The thing is, I’m not sure if it’s a good idea for me to get involved with a guy right now.”
