Moments later the kid appeared. Six foot four at least, with shoulders that told Nathaniel he probably played football. The teenager was visibly eager, chomping at the bit to get outside. “Happy to help, sir,” he said, beaming at Nathaniel. “Which tree would you like?”
Nathaniel wanted to say forget it, but in his gut he knew Dani would love having a tree. “Any of them.” Good grief.
The manager grimaced. “Sorry we don’t have ornaments.”
“Believe me,” Nathaniel said, “it’s okay.”
The trip back to the condo was surprisingly entertaining. Nathaniel dragged the heavy duffel bag along behind him, occasionally changing arms when his shoulder protested. “So tell me, Toby, do you work at the store on a regular basis?”
“When I’m not practicing football or basketball or out with my girl.”
Toby had the four-foot, live tree—in a plastic stand—balanced on one shoulder. In his other hand, he carried Dani’s precious eggs, a loaf of bread and the strands of lights. The teenager wasn’t even breathing hard, nor was he wearing gloves. Nathaniel, probably only fifteen years his senior, felt like an old man trying to keep up.
“Have you been dating this girl for a while?”
“A year and a half, sir. We have plans to go to college together and get married when we graduate.”
“Your parents are okay with that?”
“Oh, yeah. They adore Kimberly. Her parents have been married almost as long as mine. Mom always told me to look at a girl’s family. That way you know what’s important to her, and you can decide if you’re compatible.”
The young man’s casual confidence rattled Nathaniel. Was this what happened when you grew up with actual parental guidance? Surely this kid was far too young to know what he wanted out of life. Then again, Nathaniel wasn’t qualified to weigh in on interpersonal relationships, not by a long shot.
Toby used the next twenty minutes to bend Nathaniel’s ear about everything from his interest in NASCAR racing to his amazing girlfriend to the Central America trip he and his youth group were going to make during the summer.
Nathaniel listened with half an ear, wondering if he himself had ever been as passionate and excited about life as this young man. For Nathaniel, every goal had been about getting out on his own and proving himself without his parents. Yet here was an all-American kid who actually enjoyed his life.
Even Toby tired after the first half mile. When they stopped to catch their breath, Toby set the tree and his packages carefully on the ground and rolled his shoulders. He even put on a pair of gloves.
Nathaniel hid a grin. He did remember what it was like to be seventeen and driven by testosterone. Of course, with Dani in his home, those feelings were pretty much the same right now. He didn’t feel the need to flex his muscles, but on the other hand, he had made a long trek through knee-deep ice and snow to bring home provisions. Maybe this was the twenty-first-century equivalent of slaying a wild animal and dragging it back to the cave.
Toby blew on his hands and bounced from one foot to the other. “What about you, Mr. Winston. Do you have any kids?”
For some reason, the question caught Nathaniel completely off guard. “Um, no...”
Toby grinned. “You don’t sound too sure.”
“I’m sure,” Nathaniel said firmly. “Come on. Let’s get going before we freeze to death.”
At the condo, Dani buzzed them in and welcomed them at the door. The way her face lit up when she saw the scrawny little tree gave Nathaniel a warm fuzzy feeling that was scary as hell.
“This is Toby,” Nathaniel said. “His dad manages the market. Toby got drafted to help me get back with all of this.”
Dani beamed at the teenager, baby Peaches on her hip. “Thank you so much, Toby. Here, wait.” She reached into her purse on the table in the foyer and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “Merry Christmas.”
The boy’s cheeks reddened even more than they had from the cold. Dani’s smile could melt a snowman at fifty paces. “Merry Christmas, ma’am. Happy to do it.”
“Will you stay long enough for me to make some hot chocolate?” Dani asked.
Toby grimaced. “Wish I could, but I’d better get back to the store. Your baby is cute.” Peaches flirted with him unashamedly.
Dani blinked. “Oh, well, she’s not mine, but thanks.”
Toby shot Nathaniel a raised-eyebrow look. The baby wasn’t Dani’s, and Nathaniel had said he didn’t have kids. No wonder the boy was confused.
Nathaniel decided to hurry the goodbyes along. “Too bad you can’t stay. Thanks for your help. Tell your father thanks, too. Merry Christmas.”
When the door closed behind the teenager, an awkward silence fell, one that weighed a thousand pounds. Nathaniel cleared his throat. “I got a tree,” he said.
Dani nodded, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. “I see that.”
“I thought you’d like it, it being Christmas Eve and all.” He didn’t tell her it wasn’t his idea.
“I think it’s wonderful,” Dani said softly. She went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, so quickly he barely felt it. “Thank you, Nathaniel.” She paused. “If you don’t mind taking the baby, I’ll start putting the groceries away. Would you like something warm to drink? I have a fresh pot of coffee brewing.”
“Give me a minute first,” he said gruffly. “I need a shower and different clothes.”
* * *
Dani regretted the kiss as soon as she did it. She wasn’t sure what had come over her except that she had been so darned touched by Nathaniel’s effort. Toby had helped significantly, but still...
She suspected she had either shocked her boss or made him extremely uncomfortable or both. She came from a very affectionate family. For a moment, she had forgotten where she was. It was a mistake she wouldn’t repeat. Nathaniel had disappeared so fast, he probably left a trail of steam.
Before Toby departed, the two men had hefted the full-to-the-brim canvas duffel onto the granite-topped kitchen island. Even with Peaches on one hip, Dani was able to begin putting cans and dry goods into the cupboard. She often enjoyed watching cooking shows on cable, but she didn’t consider herself a pro. Something about Christmas Eve, though, gave her a tingling sense of anticipation for the dinner to come.
“Here’s the thing,” she whispered to Peaches. “It would be super helpful if you would take a nice long nap. Nathaniel needs one, too, and I have a ton of cooking to do.” The little girl gazed up at her, fist in mouth. She didn’t look at all sleepy.
“Okay, fine. Stay awake. But Santa doesn’t visit cranky children, now does he?”
After half an hour, Nathaniel still hadn’t appeared. Was he avoiding her? If they were to eat at a decent hour, she needed to get the roast in the oven and start on the pecan pie. For Christmas morning, she had planned a coffee cake with streusel topping and mimosas. Christmas lunch would consist of open-faced beef sandwiches with a cranberry salad.
Without the internet, she would have been lost. Her phone was her lifeline. It helped that Nathaniel kept a drawer full of extra charging cords. Impromptu travel with literally nothing except her purse was not the easiest thing in the world.
When four thirty rolled around, she decided to go in search of her missing boss. She found him facedown on his mattress, sound asleep. Poor man. She knew he wouldn’t have left her to handle everything on purpose.
He was bare from the waist up, his tan evidence of holidays spent in tropical climates. His shoulders and back were smoothly muscled. The pair of navy knit pants he had pulled on rode low on his narrow hips.
This was what Nathaniel Winston would look like on lazy Saturday mornings before he climbed out of bed. Or maybe he sleeps in the nude, Dani. He can’t very well do that with his executive assistant and a baby in the house.
Her cheeks hot,
she debated her course of action. Peaches took it out of her hands. The little girl chortled loudly. Nathaniel shot straight up in bed, wild-eyed. “What’s wrong?” He scraped his hands through his hair.
“Nothing,” Dani said quickly. “Sorry to wake you. But I need to start dinner, and I can only do so much one-handed. I thought Peaches would be asleep by now, but she obviously knows it’s Christmas Eve, and she’s too excited to close her eyes.”
Nathaniel didn’t seem amused by her whimsy. “Let me have her. We’ll play in the den and stay out of your way.”
“How thoughtful,” she said, deadpan.
His sharp look questioned her sincerity, and rightly so. It didn’t take a genius to see that Nathaniel wanted to avoid Dani as much as possible. Fine. She didn’t need him in the kitchen getting underfoot anyway.
Fortunately, her ambitious Christmas Eve dinner menu consumed her attention for most of the subsequent hour. Once she had seared the roast and tucked it in a deep pan flanked with carrots and potatoes, she put the pie together and popped the sweet treat in the oven with the meat, very glad both dishes cooked at the same temperature.
The condo had a small dining room just off the kitchen. Inside a modern-looking buffet, Dani found navy placemats that matched the navy-and-cream stoneware in the kitchen cabinets. It frustrated her not to have the trappings of holiday colors or even a store-bought poinsettia. Even a couple of red candles would have been nice.
That was the problem with bachelors. They didn’t know how to set a scene anywhere but in the bedroom.
Oops. Thinking about Nathaniel and bedrooms was bad mojo. She was already in trouble for her innocent thank-you kiss. Best not to let him see that she was curious enough and attracted enough to be fascinated by thoughts of his private life.
Which brought her directly back to Peaches and Ophelia. Damn Nathaniel’s mystery woman. How had she found the chutzpah to pull off such an outrageous stunt?
Brooding over the baby’s lack of a proper Christmas didn’t help matters. Best to concentrate on what she could control. The only thing left was to put together a spinach-and-almond salad and prepare a light dressing. Serving pieces were ready. She and Nathaniel could take turns holding the baby during dinner, if necessary.
The roast and pecan pie had to cook for thirty more minutes. Plenty of time to put the Christmas tree in the den and decorate it. That meant running into Nathaniel again, but at least he had put on a shirt before he left his bedroom.
She knew that only because he had made a quick appearance in the kitchen earlier to grab coffee. Neither of them was dressed for a formal Christmas Eve meal. She supposed he had kept his appearance very casual in light of her predicament.
Wistfully, she imagined what it would be like if they were actually dating. She might find herself wearing a very special, sexy dress, knowing, or at least hoping, that Nathaniel would remove it at the end of the evening.
After her boss’s chilly reception earlier, it took a measure of courage to intrude on his privacy. But the den was arguably the best place for the tree, and this designer condo needed a punch of color and light, tonight of all nights.
Nathaniel didn’t look up when she entered the den dragging the tree along behind her. The fir had lost a significant percentage of its needles en route from the store, but it was still presentable. With the heavy plastic base already attached, all Dani would have to do was add some water tonight before going to bed. After all, the tree would stand guard beside the fireplace barely twenty-four hours before the lord of the manor tossed it out. She was pretty sure she knew Nathaniel that well.
Without speaking, she unboxed the tiny lights and began twining them around the tree, attaching one strand to the next. Still, Nathaniel didn’t acknowledge her presence. Peaches sat on his knee, trying to get one of his shirt buttons in her mouth. Nathaniel held her firmly, but his attention was on the television. He flipped channels rapidly, presumably checking the football scores.
When she finished the tree and plugged it in, she expected at least a token comment. Her boss was mute. He had to have noticed the cheerful Christmas tree. It upped the cozy factor of the den tenfold. But maybe Nathaniel just didn’t care. Stubborn, gorgeous man. She didn’t know whether she wanted to kiss him or smack him.
Subdued and disappointed, she tweaked a branch and turned to walk out of the room. “Dinner in twenty minutes,” she said over her shoulder.
“Wait, Dani,” he said.
She turned around, bracing herself for criticism. “What?”
He lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “I don’t mind the tree. But don’t expect too much from me. This holiday stuff isn’t my thing.”
Five
A man knew when he was being an ass. Dani walked out on him without another word. Nathaniel was fully cognizant that he was exhibiting every characteristic of a bad host. The stupid Christmas tree was charming. And festive. Even Peaches cooed when she saw it. So why had he deliberately downplayed Dani’s efforts?
Why were the aromas wafting from the kitchen both tantalizing and unsettling? He didn’t want his condo to smell like Christmas. He didn’t want a tree. He didn’t want Dani.
What a liar you are. His libido was more honest than he.
In barely twenty-four hours, Dani had transformed Nathaniel’s hideout from the world into a warm, holiday-scented, incredibly appealing home. How she had done it so quickly and so well, he couldn’t exactly say. It was more than the groceries and the tree, though he couldn’t put his finger on what was so different with her here.
Maybe it was the baby. Everyone knew that babies were precious and cute. Perhaps little Peaches was bachelor kryptonite. He sniffed her hair, wondering for the millionth time if he was her biological father. Shouldn’t he be able to tell instinctively? Wasn’t there some sort of parental bonding moment when all became clear?
If there was, he hadn’t experienced it yet.
Dani didn’t bother calling him to dinner. His phone dinged with a blunt, unemotional text. It’s ready...
Standing up with a sigh, he took the baby to the tree. “Do you like it?” he asked softly. “It’s supposed to have ornaments, but I don’t have a single one.”
The baby reached out to grab the lights. She’d probably chew the cord in two if he let her. Those bottom teeth had to be poking through soon. “No touching,” he warned, nuzzling the top of her head with his chin. “We’d better go wash up for dinner before Dani loses patience with us.”
The kitchen was filled with steam, delightful smells and a woman who resembled his efficient executive assistant, but in this setting looked more like a wife. The knot in his stomach grew.
Dani glared at him, clearly upset that he hadn’t appreciated her efforts with the tree.
“Smells wonderful,” he said, hoping to win a few points with genuine appreciation for her culinary efforts.
“We’re eating in the dining room,” she said, her tone frosty. “We may as well serve our plates in here. That way things won’t get cold. I took the liberty of opening a bottle of wine. Let me have the baby. After you fix your plate, I’ll do mine. There’s plenty, but save room for dessert.”
The solid meat-and-potatoes meal reminded him of something his grandmother might have prepared. His mother had grown up in her aunt’s home, an orphan by the age of eight. But Nathaniel had substantial memories of his paternal grandmother. She had come over from Italy and spoke heavily accented English. Her cooking had been sublime.
He piled food onto his plate unapologetically. After his marathon trip in the snow today, a few extra calories were neither here nor there. Once he had set his plate in the dining room, he took the baby back. “Your turn, Madam Chef,” he said lightly. To his surprise, Dani disappeared and came back lugging the Fraser fir—stand, lights and all.
“That’s the advantage of a small
tree,” she said smugly. “They’re sort of portable.”
She plugged in the lights and sat down. At the last moment, she took her phone from her pocket and cued up Christmas music. Soon, they were eating in silence, save for the holiday tunes playing softly in the background.
With every bite Nathaniel took, his stomach tightened. The food was spectacular. The baby behaved. It was something else, something powerful and dangerous that stole his appetite and tightened his throat.
In this room, here and now, was everything he had never had, everything he told himself he didn’t need. Family time. Cozy holidays. A beautiful, capable woman willing to work at his side to create a home.
He forced himself to clear his plate in deference to Dani’s efforts on his behalf. Two glasses of wine didn’t still his unease. They chatted lazily during the meal about the weather and the bowl games and whether the thaw would start Monday or wait until Tuesday.
Eventually, the baby fell asleep in Dani’s arms. The two females were flushed and beautiful, Madonna and child.
“I feel terrible about this,” Dani said suddenly, her expression troubled.
“About what?” There was no way she could have read his mind.
“About Peaches’s first Christmas. She should have a stocking and leave cookies for Santa. That’s how it’s done, or so I’m told. Her mother’s selfish behavior is robbing her of a special occasion.”
Nathaniel shook his head. “As far as that baby’s concerned, today might as well be April Fools’. The kid doesn’t know the difference.”
“I know,” Dani said stubbornly.
“There’s nothing we can do about it.”
“If this was Little House on the Prairie, I’d make her a pinafore out of a flour sack, and you’d carve her a toy train with your pocketknife.”
Even in the midst of his turmoil, he was amused. “I don’t own a pocketknife.”
“Well, I should have bought you one for Christmas.”
An awkward silence fell. Nathaniel wished he was holding the baby. Peaches was a helpful decoy and a place to focus his attention.
Billionaire Boss, Holiday Baby Page 6
