He didn’t want to fail and hurt another woman.
Not after seeing what his mom had gone through over the years, and was still going through when his dad was away.
Bill couldn’t do that to a child.
Not after wondering if he’d done something to make his dad not want to be around.
No way. That wouldn’t be fun or fair.
CHAPTER FOUR
“WINTER WONDERLAND” PLAYED on Bill’s living room speakers. Light snow fell outside the wood-framed windows. Grace might as well be standing inside a snow globe. She knew exactly how the enclosed glass bubble world would feel. Cozy and comfortable and safe.
How she felt right now.
Unbelievable. Under the circumstances.
Bill dug through a big box. “There’s an ornament in here you’ll like, little dude.”
“I’ll help.” Liam set Peanut on the floor.
At the breakfast table, the handsome firefighter had wanted her to relax. She’d figured that wasn’t possible. Two hours later, she realized she’d been wrong. Grace half laughed.
Bill glanced her way. “You look more relaxed.”
Someone could flip her make-believe world upside down to shake the snow, and still she knew today would be okay. An odd feeling, given the uncertainty over her truck. “Surprisingly, I am.”
“Look at that, bud, your mom is chillin’ in Hood Hamlet.”
Liam grinned. “Chillin’ Mommy.”
“I can’t remember the last time I chilled, but the Christmas spirit around here is contagious.” Bill’s faded jeans and blue henley shirt could easily be a red velvet Santa suit that matched the hat he wore. “I’m waiting for you to start ho-ho-hoing.”
He put his hands on his flat stomach and leaned back. “Ho-ho-ho.”
Liam burst out laughing.
Grace appreciated Bill’s sense of humor. “How do you make everything so much fun?”
He shrugged. “It’s a gift.”
“A wonderful gift.” Bill helped Grace focus on the present. Something she hadn’t done in far too long. Humming along to the song, she hung a silver bell on the tree.
The branch bounced.
The bell rang. The chime lingered on the fir-scented air.
Arms outstretched, Liam ran to the front door, where a two-inch-wide red leather strap with four gold bells hung from the doorknob. He pulled on the strap, ringing them.
Bill sang the chorus from “Jingle Bells.”
Grace joined in.
The singing invigorated Liam. With each shake, his impish grin widened. He bounced from foot to foot, excited and offbeat.
The song ended, but Liam didn’t stop ringing the bells. If he had pointy ears and shoes, he would make the perfect elf to Bill’s Santa. The thought blanketed her heart with warmth.
She adjusted a silver ball on the tree. “The jingling makes me think of a horse-drawn sleigh.”
Bill gave Liam a thumbs-up. “Ever been on one?” he asked her.
“No, but I saw one in a Hallmark Christmas movie on TV.”
Liam’s ringing went on and on and on.
Grinning, Bill shook his head. “The little dude likes the bells.”
“Liam loves all types of bells.” She motioned her son back to the tree. “I’ll hang the strap somewhere out of reach.”
“Don’t. The front door is perfect.” Bill’s gaze traveled from the miniature village on the end table, past a clock on the wall that played carols on the hour, over a stuffed Christmas moose on the entertainment unit to a nativity scene set on the mantel. “Thanks for putting out the decorations. The house is ready for Santa.”
Memories of a revolving iridescent tree that changed colors rushed back. Her mom had loved anything unique when it came to Christmas. The more bizarre the decoration, the better. But Grace had been uninvited from all holidays, her cards and presents returned unopened the year she’d married Damon.
Grace preferred rustic and homespun decor, like the kind she’d found in the additional boxes of Christmas decorations Bill had brought out. She’d had a blast finding spots for each item. She couldn’t wait for him to see his snowman-themed guest bath or his candy-cane kitchen. “You’re welcome, but decorating was my pleasure.”
She’d made halfhearted attempts to make Christmas special for Liam, but he’d been too young to know what was happening, and she’d felt so alone after Damon died. But today was different.
After years of apartment living, she’d dreamed about spending Christmas in a house, decking the halls and trimming a real tree. Only today was no dream. Everything was real, from sitting around the table eating breakfast like a family, to spending the day with Bill, who was proving to be...well, maybe a little too perfect.
The perfect host, anyway.
No man was perfect.
A guy like Bill, a first responder and hero, someone who risked his life and put the needs of others ahead of his own family, was far from Grace’s idea of Mr. Right. If she were interested in finding Mr. Right.
She wasn’t.
Maybe after she made a life for herself in Astoria, and Liam was older. But she had no reason to be thinking about that now.
Time to embrace the feeling of family and enjoy the glad tidings tied up in a shiny ribbon. Maybe this would be the start of a new tradition for her and Liam.
She’d never seen him happier.
“Look at this.” Bill showed Liam an ornament. “My dad gave me this fire engine when I told him I wanted to be a firefighter. It’s one of my favorites. Put it on the tree for me.”
Liam’s mouth formed an O.
Bill handed over the ornament.
Her son held the miniature fire truck as he would a priceless treasure.
“Find an empty branch,” Bill encouraged.
Liam scanned the tall tree. He raised his arm toward a bare branch, but came four inches short. The ornament dangled from his little fingers.
Grace’s heart lurched. If he let go...
Liam rose on his tiptoes.
She held her breath.
Bill’s smile didn’t waver. “Almost there, buddy.”
He didn’t sound concerned at all.
She nibbled a fingernail.
The tip of Liam’s tongue stuck out between his lips. He stretched again, but fell short. Dropping onto his heels, he puckered his lips.
Bill rubbed his whisker-covered chin. Liam hadn’t given the guy time to shower this morning, let alone shave.
The stubble gave Bill a dangerous edge. She wondered if the whiskers would scratch her face if he kissed her. Not that she wanted to be kissed by him. Or anybody else.
“That’s a good branch you picked out, but why stop there?” Bill asked. “Help me put the fire truck toward the top.”
Liam nodded, his eyes twinkling with excitement.
Bill lifted him into the air.
“Higher,” Liam commanded, then giggled.
With a whoop and a holler, Bill obliged.
Liam beamed like the brightest star in the sky on Christmas Eve.
Grace placed her hand over her thrumming heart. She loved seeing her son so happy. They both needed to laugh more. That would be one of her New Year’s resolutions.
Liam pointed at her. “Mommy’s turn. Lift her up.”
Heat rushed up her neck. “I’m too heavy.”
Setting Liam on the ground, Bill grinned wryly. “You’re not even close to being too heavy.”
Liam grabbed a Nutcracker ballerina from the box and handed the ornament to her. “Go on, Mommy. Lots of empty branches up top.”
The thought of Bill’s large, warm hands around her waist made Grace want to fan herself. He could make her skin dance and her blood boil with
a simple touch. But she shouldn’t. She couldn’t. “Thanks, but I wouldn’t want you to hurt your back.”
“Remember, all those green fruits and veggies made me strong.” Bill’s voice lowered to a deep and oh-so-sexy tone. “I can handle you.”
Her heart tripped. “I’m not sure I can handle you.”
He raised a brow. “You never know unless you try.”
Temptation flared. Grace loved a challenge. That was how she’d ended up dating Damon back in high school. But she was no longer a teenager caught up in that first blush of love.
This morning, the line between daydreams and reality was blurring. Grace couldn’t be reckless with her heart. She couldn’t be reckless with Liam. She had to be careful. Not douse the spark waiting to ignite inside her with a full container of lighter fluid.
She raised her chin, meeting Bill’s gaze straight on. “I could try, but it’s not worth the risk. What if you’re wrong and throw your back out? You won’t be able to finish decorating the tree, or make a snowman if the weather improves, or go to work in the morning.”
She and her son had never experienced this kind of family time preparing for the holidays. Having Bill a part of it was special. No sense letting fear ruin the day for Liam.
Bill studied her. “You’re practical.”
Grace expected to hear teasing in his voice, not...respect. “Being practical goes with being a mom.”
Bill swept Liam into the air again. “You’re a lucky guy to have such a great mom.”
Her heart went pitter-pat like the Little Drummer Boy’s stick against his drum. Her life revolved around being Liam’s mom. There was no better compliment. “Thanks.”
Holding on to a glittery green ball, Liam nodded. “Best mommy ever.”
Grace’s chest tightened. All she’d ever wanted to be was a great mom. A great wife, too. Maybe someday she’d get another chance at the latter. “You’re the best son ever.”
Liam nodded. “And Bill best daddy.”
The word daddy floated on the air, a comic strip dialogue bubble looming over Bill’s head.
Her joy evaporated. Her stomach churned. Her heart hurt. He was going to burst Liam’s bubble and...
Bill casually ruffled her son’s hair. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me, little dude. Where do you want to hang the ball?”
Grace released the breath she’d been holding.
Liam pointed to one of the upper branches. “There.”
“You’ve got this.” Bill lifted him higher.
Her son hooked the ornament on the tree and was lowered to the floor. He dived into the box of ornaments. “More. More.”
“Let’s put them all on,” Bill said.
Maybe she’d overreacted, hearing Liam call another man Daddy. Maybe she’d been the only one feeling uncomfortable. Maybe Bill could smooth over an awkward moment like buttercream icing on a wedding cake.
A wedding cake?
Her insides trembled.
Maybe she’d better forget this holiday fun and run as far away from Bill as she could during the next break in the storm. Not that she had a way to leave besides her two feet. Darn it.
Grace could count on one hand the times Liam had said the word daddy. He didn’t remember his father. He’d been too young. But she told him stories about Damon and showed him pictures. Liam had seen other kids and their daddies at preschool and at the college day care where he’d stayed while she attended classes.
Guess he thought Bill looked like a daddy.
A superhot daddy.
Don’t go there.
Getting her son a daddy wasn’t on her to-do list. Or her Christmas list.
Bill Paulson was not the answer to their prayers. He was not going to wrap himself up in a big bow. He was a one-day savior, not a long-term one.
Not that Grace needed saving.
She needed to get a grip on her fantasies and kick him out of the starring role.
He touched her shoulder. “You okay?”
Grace startled. No, she wasn’t okay, but she nodded, not wanting to admit the truth. She needed to protect her son’s heart. How was she going to do that? And protect herself, too.
She glanced out the window. Still snowing. That meant she was stuck here with Liam’s idea of a daddy. And Bill happily acting the part.
His eyes didn’t let go. “You look miles away.”
She wished she was miles away. Away from him and the sugarplum temptation of his make-believe world, where all was safe and perfect.
Grace, of all people, knew better.
She gave her head a hard shake. “Just thinking.”
“About me?” he teased.
Her cheeks flamed. If he only knew...
He made her feel things she’d buried deep inside her when she’d laid her husband to rest at Arlington. She would rather face a roomful of black widow spiders than tell him the truth.
“About today.” Which was true. “I’ve never decorated a live Christmas tree before. They sell them, but we used an artificial one.”
“Then we’re even. I’ve never decorated a fake tree.”
“I can’t imagine buying a fake tree when your backyard is a forest.”
“True, but most of the trees outside are too big for in here. I applied for a permit to cut this one down. I do that every year.”
“Of course you did.” She didn’t hesitate a moment. “You follow the rules.”
He glanced at Liam, who lay on the floor flying an angel ornament in the air, then back at her. Bill’s mouth curved into an inviting you-know-you-want-me smile. “Depends on the rule.”
Enough charm and sensuality infused his words to ignite a ball of heat in her belly.
Not good, Grace. Not good at all.
Her mouth went dry. Her mind raced, imagining what rules he’d broken, where and how. And with whom.
She tried hard to be good, to do what was right. Would she ever have the chance to do something...naughty, or was she stuck being nice?
Liam handed her an angel ornament. “Here, Mommy.”
“Thanks, sweetie.” Grace focused her attention on the angel with feather wings and a gold pipe-cleaner halo, over the picture of a little girl’s face. “Who is this?”
“Kendall Bishop-Willingham.” The tender smile on Bill’s face suggested Kendall was someone special. “She’s the daughter of my friends Hannah and Garrett.”
“Beautiful.”
Bill nodded. “Each year Kendall and her two younger brothers give me ornaments. Without them I’d have nothing but round balls and bells.”
Liam ran to the door and jingled the bells. The sound got louder and louder until she couldn’t hear the Christmas carols playing.
Bill shook his head with a laugh. “I said the magic word.”
“Bells,” she and Bill shouted at the same time.
Liam danced. He rang the bells again.
Her gaze met Bill’s. Something passed between them, the same connection she’d experienced last night.
She wanted to look away, but couldn’t.
He seemed in no hurry, either.
A bell-size lump formed in her throat.
“More. More.” Liam’s chant broke the spell. “Need to decorate.”
For the best. Common sense told Grace that, yet a part of her wished the connection could have continued. She inhaled deeply and looked to her son.
Liam pulled a red ball from the ornament box. “Up. I want to put on this one.”
“Sure thing, buddy.” Bill raised her son into the air again. “By the time we’re finished with the tree, I won’t need a workout.”
Bill sounded so content. Nothing seemed to bother him, except not being able to ski. This must be what an al
ways-up-for-a-good-time kind of guy was like.
What would he think if she told him she hadn’t been to a gym in nearly three years? Or hadn’t eaten a meal with another adult in two months, until last night? Their worlds were so different. She kept forgetting that when she was with him.
Grace hung the angel on the tree.
She couldn’t imagine having Bill’s carefree life. She worked hard, paid her bills, cared for her son, cooked and cleaned. After that? No time. No energy. No sleep. Nothing left for her.
“Look, Mommy.” Liam hung the red ball on the tree. “Shiny and pretty like you.”
Her affection for him overflowed.
Liam meant everything to her.
Unlike Bill’s, her life wasn’t perfect. Her heart was missing a huge chunk. Her faith was battered. Her nights were lonely. But she had her son. He was all she needed. Anything—anyone—else would be a bonus, an indulgence, like whipped cream on ice cream, and a cherry on top.
Moving away from the tree, Bill brushed her shoulder with his arm. “Sorry.”
Her pulse skittered. Heat emanated from the point of contact. Grace took a calming breath. It didn’t help.
Forget bonuses. Whipped cream was full of calories and fat. No need for indulgences. maraschino cherries were sticky, full of chemicals and food coloring.
She glanced at the handsome firefighter.
Totally unnecessary. Bad for her.
And to be avoided at all costs.
* * *
After lunch, Bill stood next to the six-foot snowman in his front yard. He had summited Denali, scaled peaks in Patagonia, skied in Chamonix. He enjoyed vacations that pushed him to the physical limits, whether on another continent or here on Mount Hood. Building a snowman with Grace and Liam was the last thing he’d expected to be doing on his day off. Surprisingly, it didn’t suck.
Snowflakes fell from the sky, much lighter than the blanket of white that had poured down earlier. The sharp scent of pine tickled his nose. His breath hung in the air. Familiar sights and smells, until he looked at his house and saw a blue elephant sitting on the living room windowsill.
Not so typical.
His childhood memories of snow days revolved around playing with his friends. Today was Bill’s first experience of family time in the snow, the kind of day he’d always wanted to spend with his parents when he was a kid. But his dad had always been away, or too busy when he was home. His mom had been game for about thirty minutes, until she thought the temperature was too cold.
A Little Bit of Holiday Magic Page 6
