The Broody Brit: For Christmas ( A Hot Single Father Second Chance Romance) (A Holiday Springs novel)

by MJ Fields

  When my phone vibrates in my pocket, I pull it out and see RED pop up on the screen, fitting since she makes my damn blood boil at the mere thought of her, above the selfie I insisted she take with me alone after she took the one of Shep, her, and I in the woods.

  I hit accept call and hold it to my ear. “Miss me already.”

  “That was more of a statement than a question,” she says with a smile in her voice.

  “Apparently, it was,” I say as I walk to the sink to get a drink of water.

  “I just have a quick question, and then I’ll let you get back to doing whatever you were doing.”

  “Nathaniel is taking a bath because apparently, I’m frustrating to him as well.”

  She laughs softly. “Is that so?”

  I tell her about our conversation, leaving out very little, for the sake of balls out and all.

  She laughs as she says, “I really can’t wait to get to know him better.”

  “Yeah, well, be careful what you wish for.” I laugh to myself.

  The line is silent for a few seconds, and then I hear her yawn.

  “Tired, Red?”

  “Yeah.” I hear rustling.

  “You in bed?” I ask quietly.

  “Mm-hmm.”

  “Christ,” I groan.

  “I called for a reason, and I feel like it’s going in a different direction.”

  “Is that so?” I ask.

  “Yeah, so let’s redirect. I called to ask if you called earlier.”

  “Was I supposed to?” I ask, hoping the answer is no.

  “No, I just.” She pauses.

  My heartbeat accelerates for a totally different reason now. “Just what? Are you okay? Is everything okay? Do I need—”

  “Raff, everything is fine. It’s silly. I left my phone on the counter when I was using the bathroom, and I thought I heard my phone ring. When I came out, I could have sworn Nellie had,” she groans. “It’s stupid. I thought she’d answered or declined your call. I checked the call log and didn’t see any missed calls, so I just thought maybe she was up to something. And now I feel bad.”

  “It’s okay to be cautious, but it’s unsettling to me. You need to be here.”

  “I—”

  “Even Nathaniel thinks so.”

  “Don’t you dare play the cute kid card.” She laughs.

  “Red, I’m not hiding shit up my sleeve. I don’t need to play the cute kid card. I played the multiple O card all damn night, if that doesn’t —”

  She laughs out loud, a fucking belly laugh.

  “You weren’t laughing this morning; in fact, you were kind of hobbling.”

  “Well,” she laughs harder, “no one could ever accuse you of having a silver tongue.”

  “No?”

  “Nope,” she says, and I can picture the grin on her gorgeous face.

  “I don’t care what anyone says about my tongue but you.”

  “Well, then. I’d venture to say not silver at all, but it is kind of magical.”

  “Fuck,” I groan as I reach down and squeeze my now hardening dick. “I want you so fucking bad right now that—”

  “Dad!” Nathaniel yells from upstairs.

  “Was that Nate?”

  “Only kid I know that calls me dad.”

  “Go, we’ll talk soon.”

  “Oh, we’ll be doing more than talking.”

  She whispers, “I know we will.”

  “Sleep well, Red.”

  She sighs, “You, too, Raff.” And then she hangs up.

  This morning after dropping Nathaniel off at school, I didn’t have time to go to the Sweet Spot. Sally and Bo, my faithful full-timers, met me at Blizzards to hand over the keys and say goodbye. I hate that they are moving south, but for purely selfish reasons. The two of them literally ran my business.

  Sally was the talker, Bo, not ever big on words. When she told me to hire three full-timers to replace them and me, I scoffed.

  With a wink, she reminded me that life was changing, and then she handed me a file.

  Before they left, I handed them an envelope full of cash, the Christmas bonus they would have received had they stayed on, regardless of the fact they’re leaving, it’s well deserved.

  I won’t say I didn’t get a little emotional when they walked out the door, Bo with an arm wrapped around Sally as she cried was touching.

  When I open the file, I see a dozen or so employment applications. Leafing through them, I see she’d starred five.

  Dana, who has worked part-time here for a year, is on the top. A single mother of three kids, whose ex up and left her just over a year ago, right after she had their last kid, who hadn’t worked since high school, is often late, and always looks like she is somewhere else, isn’t bar manager material in my opinion. But for some reason, Sally thinks she is a five-star employee.

  Below Dana’s are several applicants who haven’t applied for Blizzards, but some of my restaurants in surrounding cities. Gabriel Laurent, a recent graduate of Le Cordon Bleu culinary school in France, is also five-starred.

  “Why the fuck would a culinary school graduate want to work at a bar that serves mostly fried food?” I ask myself out loud.

  “To get his start.”

  I nearly jump out of my seat at the sound of Beckett’s voice. “Seriously, mate, I’m getting you a fucking bell to wear around your neck.”

  “You gave me a key and your security passcodes.” He sits down in the chair across from my desk. “And I use them.”

  “How about a call, a text, a heads up that you’re going to stop by?”

  He waves his hand dismissively at the thought. “The chef. Hire him. Make it a test run, and when we get the resort, if he’s worth a shit, you open a restaurant and have him take it over.”

  I look him over. “You look like shit.”

  He smirks. “But I feel fan-fucking-tastic.”

  Rule Number Twenty- One

  Not all boys are made of, ‘snakes and snails and puppy dog tails…’

  Nikki

  On Monday, when Raff and Nate walk into the shop after school, out of habit, I start to turn and head toward the back and then remember I’m no longer hiding.

  Nathaniel is all smiles, and I notice for the first time he has a dimple that matches his father’s. The part of me that was embarrassed by my behavior the first time we met has finally disintegrated. By Wednesday, I’ve finally garnered enough courage to ask Nathaniel if he’d mind helping Nellie and me out at the shop.

  “With Halloween just around the corner and the caramel apple decorating contest coming up, we could sure use the help.”

  He looks up at Raff in question.

  Raff nods. “Of course.”

  “Perfect.” I grab my purse and walk around the counter. “Let’s you and I go grab some apples from the store.”

  Raff looks at his watch. “Shit.”

  “You late?” I pull my coat on.

  “No, but I have a couple of interviews to conduct, and we haven’t done much decorating.”

  “By much you mean, we haven’t done any,” Nate states.

  “We normally hit Adam’s farm and—”

  “Adam Fosters?” I ask, and Raff nods. “Haven’t seen him in years. Nate, how about you and I go get some apples and grab a few pumpkins?”

  Nate again looks up at his father, and Raff nods. I kind of adore the way he looks up to him.

  Nate nods back. “You and I can go get costumes and decorations tomorrow. Maybe Nikki can come, too?”

  “The costumes have been ordered. We just have to go try them on and see if any adjustments need to be made. And I’d love for Nikki to join us. However, that may spoil the surprise.”

  “She won’t look, will you, Nikki?”

  I make a cross over my heart, that is all sorts of smitten because Raff is apparently the kind of man who dresses up on Halloween with his son. I mean, dayum, could he get any sexier. “Cross my heart.”

  As if he’s readin
g my thoughts, his lips turn up slightly.

  “Can we go now?” Nate asks, drawing my attention back to where it should be, to him.

  “Yep, let’s do this.” I grin at Nate, and when he grins back, I know without a doubt I want everything that Rafferty Graham has to offer me.

  I step toward Raff and give him a quick peck on the cheek. He looks stunned, which makes me a little bit too happy, and then I smile. “Thanks for letting me borrow him.”

  On the way to Fosters’ farm, it is too quiet. I can tell he is nervous, and it is making me even more so. Being the adult, I decide I need to step up.

  “This feels awkward, right?” I ask, and he giggles. “I don’t want it to be like that at all. I hope you know you can ask me anything you want to or tell me anything. I’m an excellent listener.”

  “Do you like my dad a lot?”

  “What’s not to like? He’s kind, handsome, and funny, and he comes with a super cool and equally as handsome young man.”

  “All he’s missing is a dog then, huh?”

  I can’t help but laugh.

  “You know, you are one hundred percent correct. He’d be one heck of a catch if he had a dog.”

  He laughs again, this time less nervous.

  I want to keep the conversation flowing. “I have never had my own dog, not even a cat. But I grew up with a dog.”

  “Dad says we’re too busy. And Aunt Faith is allergic, so.” He shakes his head, no.

  “Understood.”

  “So why haven’t you ever had a dog?”

  “Nellie got one for her birthday when she was younger. He’s her dog, but when I moved in with them at eleven—”

  “My age,” he states with a nod. “Why did you move in with them?”

  “I lost both of my parents.”

  “Both?” he blurts.

  I nod. “When I was your age, they were boating with some friends at night. Another boat was driving and hit them. My parents and my friend’s parents died.”

  “My mum ran out of gas, and another car hit her when she stepped out.”

  “I’m so sorry.” My heart squeezes for him. I remember that early pain of losing my parents so young.

  He shrugs. “I don’t remember it much.”

  “I try to focus on the good memories I had with them, which many happen to be at the Sweet Spot. I’m fortunate my aunt, uncle, and Nellie kept it running. I’m lucky I have them.” I think this is the very first time I’d even thought about Holiday Springs that way.

  “My aunt is really cool, too.”

  “Of course. And she adores you.”

  “She is my mom’s sister, but she doesn’t have red hair.”

  “Well, it’s beautiful that you have so much love in your life.”

  “I really am lucky,” he says thoughtfully as I pull into Fosters’.

  I park the Jeep and turn and look at him. “What would you think about maybe getting to know each other better?”

  He smiles and nods. “I’d really like that.”

  “Good, cause so would I.”

  “Dad says you got a new job and are looking for a new place of your own?”

  “I am.”

  “Did you know we have an apartment right next to us?”

  I don’t want to lie, but I don’t want to admit that I’d spent the night there. “Is that so?”

  “Yeah.” He unbuckles his seat belt. “I think you’d like it there.” He opens his door and gets out. “I think Dad and I would like it if you were there, too.”

  I get out and walk around to Nate, and he asks, “Do you think you’d like it there?”

  I wrap my arm over his shoulders. “Yeah, Nate, I’m sure I would.”

  “You said I could tell you anything, right?”

  “Of course.” We walk toward the rows of metal wagons used to hold apples and pumpkins.

  “You can’t tell Dad, and you can’t think I’m weird.”

  I nod, holding back the truth because if it’s something Raff needs to know, I’d have to tell him.

  “The day I met you—”

  “Oh, God, can we forget about that day? It was not my finest hour; in fact, it was probably the one day I regret the most in all my years.”

  “It was Mum’s birthday.”

  “Shit” slips out of my mouth, and before I have a chance to apologize, he laughs. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said that word.”

  “I live over a bar,” he grins, “I’ve heard worse.”

  “Well, it shouldn’t—”

  He waves his hand in front of him. “Bygones.”

  “Oh my God, you are the cutest.” I smile because he is, he truly is.

  “If you’re going to be around for a long time, you should know that on Mum’s birthday, she used to make wishes and sometimes give gifts to everyone she celebrated it with.”

  “That’s beautiful.”

  His smile broadens.

  “She was always such a kind person.”

  He nods. “Well, now we have cake on that day, and I make wishes for the people with us for her. For Dad, we wished for you.”

  I’m not sure anything in my life has made me as emotional as his admittance, but the shock of hearing an eleven-year-old say something like that causes me to freeze up.

  “You think I’m weird, right?”

  I shake my head. “I think you made me believe that everything happens for a reason in a much different way than I’d ever thought about it before.”

  He bites his lip. “Is that a good thing?”

  “Yeah, Nate, it’s a good thing, and now I’m going to hug you.”

  Nate and I deliver apples and pumpkins to the Sweet Spot. Nellie is still here, sitting behind the counter with a notebook and pen, scribbling away at what I know is her top-secret plans to improve business—that I can’t look at until Saturday— when we walk in.

  “Hey, Nate.” She smiles, waving.

  “Hi, Nellie.” He carries two large bags inside.

  Nellie slides off her stool and grabs one of them from him. “So, what do you think about your dad and Nikki?”

  “Nellie,” I gasp.

  He looks up at her as if he’s trying to figure out how to answer her.

  She laughs. “I think it’s a good thing. That means I’ll get to hang out with you more often. Maybe someday, we’ll be family.”

  My jaw? It drops.

  Nate looks at me before telling Nellie, “That would be cool.”

  Nellie lets out a sweet laugh. “Come on, Nate, let’s put these in the back.”

  Lucky for her, she lives to see another day.

  After unloading at the Sweet Spot, we head to Blizzards. Nathaniel, clearly feeling comfortable with me, turns on the radio.

  “Favorite Holiday?”

  He smiles. “Christmas is the best.”

  “All the presents, right? Twinkling lights. The tree and the snow. I love it all.”

  He shrugs. “All of those things are bonuses. For me, it’s really because those are the memories of Mum that I can still remember.”

  My chest tightens, and God, how I want to hug this boy, like all the time, but I pull myself together.

  “My favorite is Halloween. My parents and I used to dress up together and make all sorts of Halloween treats for the kids who would come by.”

  “What’s your favorite treat?”

  “Hands down, caramel apples. But anything with a hint of pumpkin flavor works, too. Until I came back here, I didn’t realize how much I missed it. Do you have a favorite Christmas treat or tradition?”

  “Christmas Eve at my grandparents’ house. Christmas morning with Dad, and then we have to leave to go back to their house.”

  “Have to?”

  “I mean, it’s what we do now.” He looks out the window, a faraway look crossing his features.

  “What did you used to do?”

  “The pictures of us, when Mum was still on Earth. I was in a little red sled, and we went ice skating on a pond
, I think. Mum and Dad skied at night, too.”

  “Do you ski?”

  “A bit. Do you?”

  I laugh. “It’s been years, and I’m not all that athletic, but I used to love skiing the beginner trails.”

  Lord help me, I want all of those things for him, and so much more.

  These past two hours have been such a gift. Nathaniel is such a gift. He’s filled me with realizations I’d otherwise had missed and hope.

  So much Hope.

  Rule Number Twenty-Two

  Never Judge A Book By It’s Cover

  Raff

  Nathaniel and Nikki bringing apples and pumpkins into the bar, both smiling with no restraint, warms my heart, and not for purely selfish reasons. The two of them both show a lot of similar qualities, have walls that sprung up due to life circumstances that I will never understand because I’ve never had the kind of love that Nathaniel, and I assume Nikki, had with their mothers.

  And then, they lost them.

  “We’re going to decorate.” Nathaniel grabs Nikki’s hand and drags her back to my office, both of them laughing, smiling, and obviously fully into the season. It is a beautiful sight.

  As much as I’ve tried to make things normal for Nathaniel—which is why we moved over four thousand miles—it’s not been without issue.

  When he spoke of Nikki that day weeks ago on the phone, I felt the air shift. When I met her, I knew my life was on the cusp of change.

  The way she fought me was infuriating, yet I saw unspoken reasons for it. I knew it wasn’t just a horrible breakup. It was, in fact, a chain of events.

  I never in my life thought I’d find someone who could fill my heart with as much love as our Hope had filled it, and I can logically say that it feels like it’s even more full.

  For her.

  For me.

  For us.

  When they come back out with boxes of decorations, I hurry to them and take the heaviest one out of Nathaniel’s hands.

  “He wouldn’t let me carry it,” she whispers.

  My heart swells a bit more that my son, Hope’s and my son, is a little gentleman.