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CHAPTER1
“TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS…”
SPENCER
“Go far, Ironman!” The little girl’s high-pitched voice is the split-second warning to guard my nuts as she throws a short but near-perfect spiral right at my crotch.
“Shit,” I hiss, bending down to catch the football before it hits me.
“Ironman said a swear.” The preschooler crosses her arms, arching an eyebrow.
“You have to be sure he’s looking, Melody.” Daisy, her mother and my former mentee, reaches for the pink football I’m holding. “Sorry about that.”
“He caught it!” Melody argues, marching closer to where we stand, her blonde ringlets bouncing around her four-year-old shoulders. “You’re getting better.”
Daisy fights a grin, and I relent. She’s a funny kid, decked out in a pink tutu and red and green leggings, a crown on her head, and light-up tennis shoes on her feet. The “quarterback princess” inherited her football addiction from her NFL-star father, and she firmly believes everyone should be ready to “go far” at all times—her version of “go long.”
“It’s okay, I’ve got it.” Instead of giving the ball to her mother, I toss it underhanded to the princess.
She catches it with both arms and a little grunt, grasping it to her chest. It looks like it bounced off her small nose, and I flinch, actually feeling worried.
“You okay?” I ask, but she shakes it off as she runs out the door.
“Ollie, Go far!” she calls to the boys riding up on their bikes.
“Your football skills are improving.” Daisy teases me as she rounds the counter in her antiques shop to where I’m unboxing a selection of Fenton art glass. She’s so petite, her pregnant stomach seems bigger than she is. “Don’t tell me you’ve been practicing.”
“I have not been practicing.” I have no interest in football, but I do care about my well-being. “It’s self-defense.”
Daisy loses her battle against the giggles and snorts a laugh. “Sorry! My sinuses have been all messed up since my third trimester began.”
“Shouldn’t you be resting?”
“Shouldn’t you be more relaxed now that you’ve married my cousin?”
“My disinterest in organized sports is not an indication of rigidity. It’s simply a matter of preference, and I would prefer it if you kept that tiny tornado on a leash.”
“Now, Spence, don’t be grumpy.” Daisy slides a hand in the crook of my arm and wrinkles her pixie nose up at me. “Nobody’s calling you a square because you prefer antiques to football.”
“I didn’t say they were, and you know I despise that nickname. How much harder is it to add theR?”
“I can’t believe it!” The door slams open and in a whirl of fiery red hair and flashing blue eyes, the love of my life appears, causing my stomach to tighten. “Now Casper is missing!”
“The friendly ghost?” Daisy turns as her cousin, a.k.a., my wife, closes the space between us.
“The King of India.” Joselyn stops at my side, rising on her toes to plant a brief kiss on my lips. I slide my hand along her lower back managing to kiss the side of her head as she returns to her cousin. “From the nativity scene.”
We’ve been married less than a year, and I’m still getting used to having her with me always, being able to touch her this way any time I want. It’s a far cry from when I was her employer, and she didn’t sleep with clients.
“Yesterday one of the lambs disappeared,” Joselyn continues. “The day before that, Tobias was gone…”
“Which one is Tobias?” Daisy looks up from the art glass she’s unwrapping.
“The donkey.” Joselyn shakes her head. “Honestly, Daisy, it’s like this is your first Christmas in Oceanside.”
“How doyouknow so much about it? You didn’t grow up here either.”
“But I designed the nativity scene every Christmas starting sophomore year of high school. Remember?”
