He was focused on his task. Casual. "You'll have to forgive me when you open my gift in the morning," he said. "I made the purchase when you were just the nanny." He looked up, his eyes meeting hers. "I'll make it up to you."
A thrill went through her. "Not necessary."
He went back to tightening the bolt. "As soon as I find another babysitter we can trust, we're going on a date."
She smiled. "I was going to have to protest if you hired Mrs. Ritter again. Not sure how she didn’t notice him sneaking by."
"I'm just glad Bo is okay. Any ideas what caused the reaction?"
She shrugged. "There's so much junk in those corn nuts, it could've been anything."
He winced slightly. "I get it. I'll cut down on the junk food. Maybe." He winked.
He gave the wheel a spin. Was maybe a little too casually as he said, "Something you said earlier is bugging me."
Her pulse sped. "Oh?" She'd said a lot of things tonight. Been more daring than she'd imagined she could be.
"You said you didn't have family. But you must have somebody..."
Heat flushed her face.
Jace turned the bike over in his big hands and set it on its wheels, giving it a quick roll back and forth. It moved smoothly.
And then he looked up at her. His eyes were warm, curious.
But her stomach was clenched in a tight ball.
Why had he brought this up now, when everything was going her way?
She didn't want to see the warmth in his eyes fade.
She forced a yawn. Pretended to blink sleepy eyes at him. "Could we talk about this another time?"
Some of the openness in his gaze faded. "Is there something you don't want me to know?"
Yes.
She swallowed. Her throat felt tight and hot.
"I'd just rather talk about this sometime that's not early Christmas morning."
He sat back on his haunches. "I guess that answers my question." Suspicion and something else warred in his expression.
Her pulse pounded in her ears.
There was no win here. She didn't want Jace to know about her past.
She also didn't want to lose his trust.
"Jace—"
"You're right." He stood. Didn't look at her.
She followed suit.
"We should talk about this later," he finished.
But the warmth in his eyes had faded completely, and panic rose in her throat.
"There’s no family," she blurted.
He went still, tension radiating from the set of his shoulders. Her panic increased.
The words were heavy in her throat. It was hard to get them out. "I grew up in foster care. Aged out of the system. I grew up mostly in group homes.”
His expression was unreadable, and her insides twisted into a knot worse than ten strands of Christmas lights.
When she'd told the other two guys she'd dated about her past, she'd seen the judgment in their eyes. Being an orphan wasn't her fault, but that didn't seem to matter.
She started to shake. "I didn't want you to know because... I was afraid you'd think I wasn't good enough to be Bo's nanny."
Mallory had been her only reference. Her previous jobs had been slinging fast food and cashiering for a big box store. She hadn't known anything about kids before she'd started working for Jace.
She waited for him to speak, heart in her throat.
He stepped toward her and closed her in his arms.
But he didn't kiss her again.
A few minutes later, after they'd said their good-nights in the hall and retired to their respective bedrooms, she lay in bed beneath the covers, shivering.
She knew every pattern in the popcorn ceiling. In the beginning, she'd lain awake at night, praying Jace wouldn't ask about her background. Afraid that he'd ask for a resume she didn't have or demand she prove her non-existent mothering skills.
She'd woken every morning before dawn to strategize how she'd spend her time with Bo, what meals she'd cook, what chores she could do around the house to distract Jace from her background.
It had seemed to work. He'd never questioned her—until now.
If she'd known that getting close to Jace would mean revealing the truth about her past, would she have stayed home? Saved her money and not bought the red dress?
She didn't know anything anymore.
Only how empty she felt.
Now that he knew her lack of qualifications, would he demand she leave the ranch?
She couldn't bear the thought of saying good-bye to Bo—or to Jace.
Maybe if she begged, he'd allow her to stay on.
But she was deeply afraid that he would never again look at her with the warmth he'd shown tonight.
Jace had made a mistake.
He'd known it when he'd held a trembling Amber in his arms. After what she'd revealed, he hadn't known what to say to fix it. So he'd said nothing.
He knew better.
Now he forced himself up and out of his warm bed. He couldn't get to sleep anyway.
He threw on a pair of jeans and a second thermal shirt. He crept through the quiet house and paused in the mudroom to don his heavy coat and boots.
The snow hadn't let up any, and he used the line to the barn again as he crossed the yard.
He went to the pen where he'd put the dog and her puppies. Stood there staring down at the sleeping animals.
Seriously, he should be in the poem. Everyone was sleeping, and he was the mouse.
He'd been kidding himself before when he'd convinced himself he imagined Amber's reaction to the puppies.
She'd wanted one but had hidden her disappointment for Jace's sake.
And now it made sense. If she'd grown up in group homes, she’d never have owned a pet.
He still remembered being fourteen and finally talking his parents into sending him to the Triple T ranch for the first time. He'd found himself on the back of a horse. Known a camaraderie with the animal that had been special.
Amber had never had that. Had never had any kind of real security.
And tonight, he'd botched things. Probably made her feel worse.
Part of him wanted to go and wake her up, beg her forgiveness for being stupid.
The sane part of him said it'd have to wait until the morning.
She had to know what she meant to Bo. Jace's son would be devastated if she ever left.
And he'd thought he'd made his feelings plain during their time tonight.
But was that enough for someone like Amber? Someone who'd been moved around at the whims of a bureaucratic system? He hadn't told her he was falling for her. He'd told her they should take it a day at a time.
He'd be lucky if she'd give him the time of day come tomorrow morning.
Unless... could he give her a perfect Christmas morning? Deliver a present that would show her exactly where she belonged—here, with him and Bo?
He stared at the puppies a little longer, contemplating how he could pull this off.
He'd never made a big gesture with Patricia. She'd known him too well, and they'd been together since high school. He'd never had to. Maybe if they'd had more time, maybe he'd have eventually dug himself a hole so deep it would've taken a monumental gesture to get back in her good graces.
Patricia was gone. Amber was here.
And it was time to man-up. Admit to the feelings he had for her.
If that meant giving her a Christmas she'd never forget, then that's what he would do.
Chapter 8
Amber was avoiding him.
At least that what it felt like early the next morning. She hadn't come out of her room, even though Bo was making a holy ruckus about the bike.
"I can't believe Santa got here in that wicked snowstorm." Bo sat on the bike, struggling to pedal on the living room carpet.
"Rudolph must've had his nose turned on high-beam," Jace returned. "How about I make some coffee before we open presents? Give Amber some time to wake up?"
/> Because he wanted her to do this with them. Needed her to be there.
He put the coffeepot on, then stood at the counter, staring at the winter wonderland outside the window. Yesterday's storm had brought almost a foot of pristine white powder.
Except where his footprints from this morning's errand to the barn had disrupted the white blanket. He'd thought of the perfect gift after all. It was now hidden in his bedroom, waiting for the right moment.
He just needed Amber to accept it.
He was no longer afraid of what might happen if a relationship with Amber went badly.
He was already in deep enough that if she decided to leave him, there would be a fair amount of grief involved.
So he'd determined to do everything he could to make her want to stay.
For good.
The scent of coffee wafted through the room. The machine stopped brewing, and the last of the coffee dripped into the pot.
Bo wouldn't wait for long.
"C'mon, Dad!" came the call from the living room.
Speaking of.
Choosing to be optimistic, Jace poured two mugs of coffee and carried them with him.
When he hit the living room, Bo was pulling Amber by the hand from the hallway.
"She was awake!" Bo crowed. "I knocked and everything, just to be polite."
At least his son hadn't cannonballed onto her bed the way he'd woken Jace this morning. He sent her a chagrined smile.
Her return smile was too quick. He barely caught it before it faded. Like last night, her gaze bounced away from his.
No way.
He wasn't letting his Christmas miracle escape.
He strode directly toward her, detouring only to set the mugs on the coffee table. Though she'd stopped behind the couch, Bo still held her hand, as if he—like Jace—thought she was going to make a run for it.
"Why don't you see what's in your stocking?" he told his son.
"Yes!" Bo abandoned his hold on Amber and raced around the couch, toward the floor in front of the tree where his Christmas sock bulged with goodies. He didn't look back.
Amber watched the boy with a small smile playing around her mouth. But when her gaze met Jace's, it was full of uncertainty.
That had to go.
He didn't care that Bo was in the room. This couldn't wait.
He closed the distance between them and swept her into his arms, brushing kisses on her cheek and forehead before seeking her lips. He kissed her until they were both breathless and she was clinging to his shoulders.
Then he leaned his forehead against hers.
Somewhere behind him, Bo was exclaiming over the small gifts from his stocking.
When Jace's eyes finally came into focus, he saw a single tear falling down her cheek.
He cupped her face, let his thumb sweep it away.
"Christmas morning is a time for families," he whispered. "You're a part of ours."
He saw the hope spring to her eyes. Saw her quickly bank it.
"You were right last night. It was late. If I'd had any brain cells left, I would've said something about how incredible you've been with Bo for the last eighteen months. It doesn't seem to matter that you didn't have a mother, because you're a natural." He shrugged. "Maybe spending so much time with other kids taught you how to be a good mom. It's the little things, you know.” He lowered his voice. “Like elves. Bo sees you as more than his nanny. And I do, too."
Another tear rolled down her cheek, and this time, he kissed it away.
And heard, "Whoa! Are you guys kissing?"
He turned, keeping Amber in his arms, to find Bo jumping on the couch.
Before he could even ask what his son thought, Bo was flinging both arms above his head.
"Yes! This is the best Christmas ever!"
Amber giggled and Jace squeezed her waist. He brushed a kiss into her hair.
"I guess that answers that."
Amber stood in the circle of Jace's arms, her lips still tingling from his kisses. She couldn't stop smiling, even if her heart was pounding out of her chest.
Bo went flying off the couch with a war whoop.
She turned her face up to Jace's. "If you want to know more about my childhood, I'll tell you."
He deserved know everything about the woman who was taking care of his son.
Maybe she'd been wrong to keep her past a secret all this time. She'd thought she was protecting herself, but...
Sometime during the sleepless night, she'd decided that her past didn't define her. She'd come through it, bruised and scarred in some ways, but she could choose how to act, who to be now.
Jace nuzzled the place where her neck met her shoulder, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.
"I want to know everything about you," he said, his lips burning her bare skin. "When you're ready to tell me."
That was sweet.
And so was his kiss.
Last night, she'd thought she'd lost the chance to be with Jace like this. She'd never been so glad to be wrong in her entire life.
"Enough kissing!" Bo's voice broke through the perfect moment.
Maybe made it perfect in another way.
Jace smiled against her mouth, and then she was smiling, too.
"Da-ad! Amber! Presents!"
And then Bo was there, burrowing into the little space between them. For a moment, he seemed content to be part of a three-way hug, but it didn't last.
He bounded away, climbed over the back of the couch. "Please!"
With a laugh, Jace finally let her go.
That was all right.
Because she saw the look he sent her way. There would be more kisses later.
Good-night kisses.
Good-morning kisses.
Secret kisses, snuck as she ducked into the laundry room.
Maybe one day... wedding kisses?
Jace grinned as if he were reading her mind. "All right, all right. But since Santa's already delivered you a big one, I think we should let Amber open the first gift."
She crossed the room, aiming for the mug of coffee Jace had brought. "That's not—"
"Sit." Jace pointed an index finger at her.
Bo was bouncing on his toes, his eyes wide and excited.
She folded her legs beneath her and took a spot between the coffee table and the Christmas tree.
But instead of going to the tree and the massive pile of gifts beneath, Jace disappeared down the hall, Bo trailing him.
Strange.
She sipped her coffee, getting a little lost in a daydream of the New Year's Eve kisses she might receive.
Until a tiny jingle, jingle, jingle brought her back to the present.
A golden-haired puppy raced from the hallway in a zigzag pattern.
She barely had time to stash her coffee on the table before it careened into her lap, stumbling on paws that were one size too big.
She picked it up, tubby tummy and all. "Who're you?"
The puppy immediately started licking her chin.
The single bell that had been attached to a red ribbon around his neck jangled as she nuzzled her nose against the puppy's.
"Jace, what—?"
Man and boy stood just beyond the hallway, watching with matching broad smiles. Jace had one hand resting on his son's shoulder.
"A family doesn't seem like a family without a dog," Jace said.
He nudged Bo toward the Christmas tree and sat next to her, letting his long legs stretch out on the floor. He took something out of his pocket.
He looked a little... nervous.
The puppy tumbled out of her lap and onto the floor between them.
"Here," Jace extended a small red collar to her. "Put it on him."
Now he sounded nervous.
She laughed as the puppy tried to wrestle her hands as she untied the jingle bell ribbon.
Jace clasped her hand when she reached for the collar. She looked up to fall into his eyes.
"This collar is a t
oken of my promise to you."
She started to smile. He sounded so serious. Like he was saying vows—
Her breath caught in her chest as the enormity of what was happening hit.
Jace squeezed her hand in his.
"With this collar, I promise that he—and you, will always have a home here. Not only in my house, but in my heart."
She couldn't help the single tear that dripped down her cheek..
He was offering her so much more than she'd dared to hope for.
A home. His heart.
A family.
"I accept," she whispered. She leaned in, and Jace met her with a sweet kiss.
"Aaah, enough kissing!" But Bo was laughing.
And then a tiny growl preceded the puppy grabbing the hem of her shirt in his razor teeth and playing tug of war.
She broke away from Jace, laughing.
He chuckled, too, as he disengaged the puppy from her pajamas and quickly secured the collar on the squirming, wiggly body.
"All right, Bo. Presents. Go ahead."
The boy dove for the tree with abandon. The puppy quickly followed suit, sniffing the artificial branches.
Jace scooted until they were shoulder-to-shoulder.
Amber had never felt such deep contentment as this.
She watched as Bo ripped open wrapping paper from his gifts. The puppy wrestled and fought with the discarded paper and ribbons, clumsy with his big puppy feet.
And Jace wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they sipped their coffees.
She'd force herself away to give him his gift soon.
Maybe.
She felt like she could stay here forever.
He tipped his head toward hers. "He's going to need a name."
She considered the pup. "What about Prancer? After the reindeer."
She saw Jace's nose wrinkle out of the corner of her eye.
"If you want him to get beat up by all the other dogs. What about Buck? Or Kujo?"
She laughed. "There's no way something this fluffy is a Kujo."
"Grinch?" Jace suggested next.
"He's got too much Christmas spirit to be the Grinch."
Bo had set a used self-adhesive bow on top of the dog's head, and it shook and growled until the puppy pitched forward and rolled.
Bo dissolved into little-boy giggles.
Jace's thumb traced a pattern on her shoulder. "I'm definitely feeling like the Grinch on Christmas morning," he confessed. "My heart's too big for my chest."
The Nanny’s Christmas Wish: Snowbound in Sawyer Creek Page 6
