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“Where’s this damn tree?” he growled. “Let’s get it over with.”
Nikki pointed him toward the closet, though she seemed troubled. Jake carried the long, rectangular box into the living room and opened it. Fortunately, the tree was one of those prelit deals. All he had to do was lock together the three sections and make sure the stand was attached tightly.
At Nikki’s direction, he positioned it in front of the window. Though he wouldn’t dare say so out loud, the poor fake evergreen was not the snappiest tree in the forest. Honestly, it looked a bit dilapidated. Even sad...
“I know it’s not great,” Nikki said, studying the tree with her nose wrinkled. “I got it on clearance the year I was pregnant with Emma. But the decorations cover up its imperfections. Emma,” she called. “We’re ready to put ornaments on the tree.”
Emma came running, holding her doll from Jake. “Can I do the first one?”
“Sure, baby.”
Jake had planned to sit back and watch while the womenfolk did their thing. He was sadly mistaken about his role. First Emma, and then Nikki, chided him.
Soon, he was selecting ornaments from a jumbled plastic container and placing them on the tree. When the ornament box was finally empty—hallelujah—the adults added shiny silver tinsel, starting at the top and winding it around the tree. Nikki got down on her stomach and spread out a red velvet tree skirt, twitching and pulling until it was straight enough to meet her exacting standards.
Jake would have offered to help, but he was afraid he would be tempted to do more than twitch if he was down on the floor with Nikki. She looked like a holiday treat in her fluffy turquoise sweater. It was the color of the Aegean Sea. Maybe he could convince her to take a trip with him to Greece. Sunshine. Warmth. Blue skies.
He cleared his throat and tried to think about icebergs and cold showers. “Are we done?” he asked.
Nikki stood, stretched her back and nodded. A piece of her hair had tangled with one of the lower branches. Jake smoothed the strand and rubbed his thumb over her cheek. “The tree looks great, Nik.”
It was true. Somehow, the collage of ornaments had transformed a shabby artificial tree into something beautiful.
Emma stared at it, her doll in her arms. “Turn the lights off, Mommy.”
In the dark, the tree was even better. Jake pressed a surreptitious kiss beneath Nikki’s ear and nipped her earlobe with his teeth. “I keep picturing you naked,” he confessed, his words too quiet for the child to hear. He slid a hand under the back of Nikki’s sweater and caressed the length of her spine.
Nikki shivered, but didn’t move away. Instead, she leaned into him, letting him support her weight. Her hair tickled his nose.
Finally, she turned in his loose embrace, touched his lips with her fingers and spoke as he had, in a low voice. “It’s snowing really hard now. You shouldn’t drive back to Falling Brook. Why don’t you spend the night?”
A rush of heat settled in his groin. His mouth dried. “On the sofa?”
He saw the multicolored lights from the Christmas tree reflected in her laughing eyes. “In my bed.”
“What about Emma?” His voice sounded funny, perhaps because he was struggling to breathe.
Nikki gave his chin a quick kiss, then eyed her daughter. “We’ll set an alarm,” she muttered. “You can move to the sofa at five. It will be fine.”
Nikki bathed her daughter, washed her hair and dressed her in warm pajamas. The temperature was dropping and would soon leave a crust of ice on the new-fallen snow. As Nikki tucked Emma into bed, her daughter cuddled the new doll sleepily. “Why isn’t Mr. Man reading me a story tonight?”
“It’s late, baby. Decorating the tree took all our time.”
Emma yawned and snuggled deeper in her covers. “I like the tree. It’s bootiful.”
Nikki grinned. “Yes, it is. But remember, it’s still a long time until Christmas. We put up the tree a little early this year. You and I will enjoy it every day and every night, and I’ll let you know when it’s time to look for Santa.”
“I can wait, Mommy. I’m good at waiting.”
“Can I ask you a question, love?” She smoothed her daughter’s still-damp hair. “Why do you call Jake ‘Mr. Man’?”
Emma yawned again, her eyelids drooping. “He’s a boy and we’re girls. I like Mr. Man.”
Nikki managed not to laugh. “Fair enough.”
When she turned off the light and tiptoed out, she was pretty sure her daughter was already asleep. Nikki found Jake in the kitchen wiping the last of the countertops. The dishwasher was humming, and the kitchen was spotless.
“Jake,” she said, feeling guilty. “You’re our guest. I would have done all this.”
