Owen looked up at her from the dish he was drying, appreciating that she shared his love of reading to Janey. “I guess all of that Christmas fun in town was really tiring.” Though he felt energized. Alive. Happy. Maybe he was noticing that now because he hadn’t felt so upbeat in a long time?
“Guess so,” she said, moving closer. “For Janey, especially. Throwing a fit on Santa’s lap has to be exhausting.”
He shook his head ruefully. “She really made a scene, didn’t she?”
Sara shrugged. “Who cares? I totally understand why she freaked out.” Sara grabbed a sponge from the drain board and started wiping off the counters. “I was petrified of the large man with the white hair, long beard and funny red outfit when I was her age, and after one traumatic visit where I probably made him go deaf from my shrieks of horror, I never wanted to go near him again.”
He liked how she was trying to ease his embarrassment. And her strategy was working. Remarkable how she always managed to calm him down and lessen his worries. “So I guess I need to chill and not stress about her Santa fears?”
Sara put the sponge down. “I screamed bloody murder, and the whole town knew it. But my mom took it all in stride, stayed unflappable and never pushed the issue or reminded me about the scene I made.”
“She sounds like she was a wonderful woman.” Like her daughter.
“She was,” Sara replied softly with a wistful smile. “She was the best mom in the world.”
“Then that’s where you get your fantastic maternal skills,” he said, grabbing another dish to dry. “Come by honestly, I’d say. Your mom would be proud.”
Sara’s face morphed into an appreciative, radiant smile that warmed him up inside like...well, nothing he’d seen in a very long time. “Aw, that’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. Compliments to my mom mean a lot to me.”
“Well, I’m not just shooting sunbeams at you. What I said is true.” He put the dish in the cupboard, then reached for another. “I really admire how you interact with the girls.” Along with a lot of other things, too. She was a special woman, no doubt about it.
“Well, thanks again,” she said. “Careful with the compliments, though.”
He gave her a questioning stare.
“I might get a big head.”
“You? Nope. Never.” She didn’t seem to have an egotistical bone in her body.
I’m going to miss her.
For the first time, the thought of not having Sara and Mia in his and Janey’s lives truly bothered him. Funny how he’d come to look forward to spending time with them. Laughing. Talking. Having fun with the girls.
Worshipping.
Especially that. Just having Sara by his side at church today had been wonderful. He’d missed sharing his faith with someone on a deeper level than simply shaking their hand in the church foyer after the service. Somehow, now that he’d met Sara, the life he’d chosen in Moonlight Cove stretched before him like a blank slate, rather than the rosy picture of starting over somewhere else that had always formed in his mind.
“Owen?” She jiggled his elbow. “You all right?”
“What? Oh, yeah, fine,” he replied.
“Since the girls are asleep, you want to go in and sit by the fire with me?” She rubbed her upper arms. “I’m still a bit chilled from walking around town.”
“Sounds great,” he said. Although he wasn’t feeling chilled at all. Had to be the oven-warmed kitchen that had him feeling all toasty. “I can’t remember the last time I relaxed in front of a fire with another adult.” Much less an attractive, fascinating woman like Sara. Warning flags whipped in his mind, but he did his best to smother the flapping.
“Me, neither,” she said, heading out of the kitchen. “It’ll be nice to decompress a bit while the girls are asleep. As single parents, we don’t get a whole lot of down time.”
“No kidding. Between work, Janey and running the household, I don’t relax much.” Just the thought of figuratively—and literally—putting his feet up for a while sounded great. That in itself was enough to have him agreeing to Sara’s offer.
And, really, what was the harm in talking? Just words exchanged, right? No biggie. No commitment, no promises.
He followed Sara into the living room, amazed at how comfortable he felt with her, as if he’d known her for a very long time rather than a bit more than a week. If someone had told him two weeks ago that he’d be hanging out with a pretty young mom by a crackling fire and glowing Christmas tree, he’d have said they were full of beans.
Sara settled on the couch directly across from the fire and next to the lit Christmas tree, her gaze fastened on the flames. He sat down on the same couch—close, but not too close—and leaned back, stretching his upper back and shoulders, feeling a bit tight as he always did on the Sundays he routinely took off from work.
Surprisingly, when he relaxed, he had to resist the sudden urge to put his arm around her and enjoy the fire the way it was supposed to be enjoyed—cuddled up with someone special. Especially since he’d had her in his arms in the sleigh and knew what he was missing now.
Instead, he turned away from that tempting thought and kept his arm to himself...only to feel a bit hollow in his aloneness. Kind of numb inside. He hadn’t realized until just now that he’d missed that warm and cozy feeling he got when he pulled a woman close.
However, despite the potential cozy factor, they were just talking here, nothing more, and he couldn’t forget that. He had the next part of his life carefully planned out, and those plans didn’t include a wonderful hazel-eyed brunette.
It made no sense to let down his guard, he told himself rationally, or give in to his attraction to Sara. He was all about being smart. Keeping his heart to himself. Except with Janey, of course.
“I had a really great time today,” Sara said, yanking him from his swirling thoughts. “The girls are at that age where Christmas gets really fun.”
“Yeah,” he said, admiring her pretty profile. “Did you see their faces when they saw the reindeer?” John Blake, a local rancher who raised reindeer, had brought some of his herd into town as part of the ongoing Snowglobe Christmas festival.
“I thought Janey’s eyes were going to pop out of her head,” Sara said with a grin that made her eyes crinkle. “She spent a lot of time looking for the one with the red nose, until you told her that Rudolph had stayed home to rest up for Christmas Eve.”
“Luckily, that did the trick. She found the one she was sure was Donner, instead, and she was happy.”
“Mia immediately identified the one she was sure was Comet.” Sara toed off her shoes, exposing fluffy bright red-and-white striped socks, and then tucked her feet up underneath herself, moving a bit closer in the process. “It’s amazing how they already know the names of all of Santa’s reindeer.”
“Did you watch Rudolph when you were growing up?” he asked, turning more fully in her direction as he sank a bit more into the crease of the couch cushions.
“Oh, yeah. It’s still my favorite movie,” she said, chuckling. “Which is probably why Mia already knows all of the reindeer’s names.”
“I loved it at a kid, too, and bought it on DVD when Janey was born,” he replied with his own answering chuckle. “Somehow it just isn’t Christmas without watching that movie.”
“We should all watch it together.” After a second of thought, Sara’s eyes grew ever-so-slightly misty. “I always used to love watching it with my mom when I was growing up.”
“Sounds like you and your mom were close.”
She paused, then drew in a hitchy breath. “We were.”
“What about your dad?”
A muscle ticked in her jaw. “He left when I was twelve, and I haven’t seen him since.” Her voice lacked any tone or inflection at all, but instead of sounding flat and
emotionless, it sounded as frozen as the streets outside Sara’s door. As if she were clamping down on her emotions and holding something—or a lot of things—in. It spoke volumes. In fact, her tone shot directly to his heart, landing a sympathy-tinged blow that made him wince inside.
He instinctually reached for her hand. “Oh, man, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
She gripped his fingers hard. “Guess it’s a sore subject with me.” With her free hand she began scraping at the seam on her pant leg. After a few moments of silence, she turned and gave him a wobbly half smile, half grimace that didn’t make it to her eyes. “Sad, isn’t it, that none of the men in my life seem to want to hang around,” she stated.
And I’m one of them.
That thought made his chest implode. He put his arm around her and pulled her close, needing to comfort her as he knew she would comfort him. “Their loss,” he said, emphasis on the first word. And his, too?
She nodded against his shoulder, and her soft, citrusy scent floated up to his nose. He fought the urge to breathe deep, needing to stay focused on their conversation rather than on how good she smelled.
“I know that in my head,” she whispered, her voice slightly hoarse.
He pulled away very slightly to look at her. “I sense a ‘but’ coming.”
Tears glimmered in her eyes. She looked away, smoothing her dark hair behind one ear. “But in my heart, it just hurts.”
Empathy flooded him. “I’m familiar with that heart hurting feeling,” he said, stroking her velvety soft cheek. “My heart has been wounded since the day Kristy got her diagnosis.” The words came out without hesitation, which belatedly surprised him. He hadn’t talked to anyone about Kristy since she’d died—hadn’t been able to, actually. What did that say about his relationship with Sara?
Sara reached up and covered his hand on her face with her own much smaller one. Her eyes glowed with understanding, revealing another facet of a bond he was just beginning to understand...and appreciate.
“You know loss, don’t you?” she whispered.
“Better than I ever wanted to,” he said, leaning back and taking her with him so she was pressed against his side. “Guess we have that in common, don’t we?”
She snuggled closer, and he was amazed how right it felt to have her there. “Unfortunately, yes.”
He squeezed her shoulder. “You think it’s unfortunate that we have something in common?” he gently teased, playing up the double meaning in her statement.
She sat up and gave him an exaggerated stern look. “Ahem. What I meant was, it’s unfortunate that we both have had to deal with loss, and, hence, have it in common.”
“I knew what you meant. I just like giving you a hard time,” he said for some much-needed levity.
She smiled at him sideways, her eyes glinting—but not with tears anymore—then she playfully socked his shoulder. “Trying to tease me, are you?”
“Who? Me?” he said, all mock-innocence. “I’m not the teasing type.”
“Ha! You are, too, and you can’t backpedal now.” She lifted her chin, a smug yet completely adorable look blossoming on her face. “Well, you know what they say about boys who tease girls.”
Man, she was cute. “No, enlighten me.”
“They say that they only tease the girls they like,” she said with a flirty look that spoke to every masculine cell in his body. And every shred of brutal honesty in him. That combination really packed a punch he couldn’t ignore if he were to stay sincere. And with Sara, being sincere, he realized, was essential; he respected her too much to not be frank, and he needed to apply that thinking to himself, too.
“Is that so?” he said, sitting up. Gently, he reached up to smooth a hand through her silky hair. “And what if I do like you?” Holding back seemed as impossible as not breathing.
She froze, her teasing smile fading, but she didn’t pull away. After a long moment, she swallowed. “Then I’d have to say I’m scared to death.”
Locking gazes with her—he couldn’t look away now if his life depended on it—he said, “Me, too.” Something else they had in common. Another bond. Another thing that made it hard to be careful with his emotions.
Silence descended and she moved closer, then he laid his hands on her shoulders and gently pulled her toward him.
Her hands landed on his chest, and then her lips touched his, softly yet firmly and perfectly. He put his arms around her slim shoulders and settled her against him as he kissed her back.
A feeling of completeness slid down around him like a soft blanket on a cold winter’s night.
A moment later, she pulled away slightly, and he had to fight the urge to object. Luckily, she didn’t go too far and stayed within touching distance.
“I...didn’t expect that,” she said, her voice sounding kind of breathless.
“Me, neither.” He wasn’t going to start lying now. What was the sense in that?
“Are we being foolish?”
Not surprising a levelheaded woman like Sara would have this question, so he took it in stride. “Maybe.” He reached out and grasped her hand. “But maybe not.”
She blinked but remained silent, nodding slightly.
He took her body language as an invitation to go on. “We’re both essentially doing the single parent thing right now, and Mia and Janey love each other. What’s the harm in spending a bit of time together?” The words before I leave town hovered in the air.
Chewing on her lip, her shoulders tense, Sara took in what he was saying with open ears, contemplating his rationale. Yes, she wanted to depend on no one but herself. But she knew the score with Owen up front, knew he wasn’t going to be sticking around, so she wouldn’t expect anything from him. In a twisted way, that made things easier; she wouldn’t be getting her hopes up for more. Easy. As long as she didn’t let herself fall for him, she’d be fine. And really, she wanted so badly to spend time with another adult. Especially someone as cute and as interesting as Owen...
She cut that errant thought off and focused on answering him. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to enjoy the fire together.” And more, emotionally? Nope. She knew better than to get her heart involved and wouldn’t forget the lessons her ex and father had taught her.
Owen lifted an arm, crooked an eyebrow at her and grinned. “Then come on over here and let’s do this fire some justice.”
For some odd reason, the tension in her upper body flowed away. With a glance at his devastating smile, she snuggled down next to him on the couch. He pressed a quick, soft kiss to her head, and her heartbeat skittered. The fire crackled and sputtered, casting fingers of warmth into the room that rivaled the toasty, contented feeling glowing in her heart.
And in that moment, Sara did her best to ignore the small yet insistent voice inside telling her to run away as if the fire had shot out of the fireplace and set her hair ablaze.
Chapter Seven
Sara consulted the ear thermometer. “Well, girls, you both have fevers, so it’s into bed for a nice nap.”
Pale and noticeably listless, Mia and Janey looked up at Sara, their little shoulders hunched.
“Okay, Mommy,” Mia said. “I don’t feel good.”
Janey chimed in with, “Yeah.” She rubbed her eyes. “I so tired.”
Sara raised an eyebrow as she popped the cap on the thermometer. They’d both been dragging all morning; they must be pretty sick if they were so willing to go to sleep in the middle of the afternoon.
She knew the feeling. She had a rare headache, and she’d been feeling lethargic and a bit chilled all day long. Maybe she could use a nap, too. Although she had a ton of business paperwork to do and she wasn’t the napping type. No time in her life, for sure.
“Okay, let’s go get you some medicine, and then we’ll hop in bed and make you two coz
y,” she said with a hand on each of their shoulders.
Bleary-eyed, the girls trudged into the kitchen, where they both dutifully took the liquid children’s fever reducer Sara poured for them. Then Sara shepherded them into bed, and they instantly nestled down under the covers, two sad, sick little cherubs laying side by side, off to afternoon dreamland.
Sara adjusted the covers. “You guys just sleep, all right?”
Silence. She craned her neck and saw that both kidlets were already drifting off. Good. Rest was the best medicine. She’d go tell Owen what was up right now.
Owen. Just the thought of him sent her tummy into a spinout. It had been three days since they’d kissed in the light of the Christmas tree. And while they hadn’t kissed again, or spent any more time all alone in front of the fire—or anywhere else—they had spent the evenings together with the girls since the smooch. In fact, they’d all watched Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer last night while they munched on popcorn balls she, Mia and Janey had made yesterday.
But that mind-boggling, toe-curling, fantastic kiss had remained on Sara’s mind as if it had just happened five minutes ago. And the truth was, no matter how she approached the subject, she couldn’t see any way around the inevitable conclusion she’d made about five this morning as the moon bounced off the snow outside and shined into her bedroom window.
Owen was leaving Snowglobe in a week. There you had it; the be all end all, can’t-ignore-reality truth. While he made her feel special and protected and happy and less lonely—which she hadn’t even realized was an issue until he’d come into her life—she simply could not let herself get any more emotionally involved with him than she already was.
In fact, she hoped she could return to the status quo after letting herself go to a romantic yet incredibly idealistic place that, while wonderful and warm and toasty, wasn’t real or practical. Or, she thought pragmatically, in any way sane.
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