by Lisa Plumley
“I never left!” Jason reminded her. “Not really.” Then, “Anyway, I’m back now. So if you want a puppy butler, it’s yours. If you want half a dozen puppy butlers, they’re yours.”
“One is probably sufficient,” Danielle said with a teasing grin. “I hope one can multitask. There are five puppies—”
“Five puppies?”
“—at the vet right now, being spayed and neutered,” Danielle confirmed, “but once they come home, it will be perfect. Because there are five of them, and five of us!”
Jason counted, not sure if she meant what he hoped. “There are five if you count me,” he said, heart pounding.
Danielle smiled. “Of course I’m counting you! I’m counting on you.” She brought her hands to his chest. “I’m counting on your big heart and your massive intellect and your supersize—”
“Careful now. There are children nearby.”
“—generosity and your extra-large sense of fun.” She shook her head, giving him another lovably mischievous look. “You didn’t think I only wanted you for one thing, did you?”
If she meant sex . . . “No. But it’s pretty fantastic.”
Danielle agreed. “I didn’t want to give my heart to anyone,” she said in a more somber tone. “I didn’t want to try again. I thought I wasn’t ready. But then you came along, and you smiled at me, and you respected me, and you made me laugh.”
“Sometimes even on purpose,” Jason cracked with a grin.
“And before I even knew what was happening . . . that was it. I was falling for you,” Danielle said. “I mean, how could I resist? You had everything I needed—even when I didn’t know I needed it.” She inhaled, gazing wonderingly into his eyes. “I didn’t know I needed a shoulder to lean on, but I did. I didn’t know I needed a defender against the big meanies of the world, but I did. I didn’t know I needed a partner to help me take on work, and this town, and even Christmastime, but I did.”
“You were doing perfectly well on your own,” Jason reminded her, still awestruck by her proficiency. “And you know it.”
“I know. I was. But it’s all better with you.” Danielle straightened his scarf, then looped her hands companionably in its luxurious, warming folds. “You get something out of this arrangement too, you know,” she went on. “Because any—”
“Is it a discount on gas money? Because I could really use that.”
“—man who’s brave enough to take me on deserves some major spoils for persevering,” Danielle promised him. “It’s not been easy up till now, and it probably won’t be too much easier later, given how crazy things sometimes get around here.”
“It’ll be a little easier.” Teasingly, Jason held his fingers a few inches apart. “With both of us together.”
Danielle nodded. “But in return,” she said, “you get a family. A home. A puppy and a partner and a Christmas stocking with your name on it. You get hugs and hellos, bedtime stories and snowball fights.” Here, Danielle glanced at her happy, snowman-building brood. “You get me, loving you, as much as you can possibly stand. And then some. Because I’m afraid now that I’ve started, I can’t ever stop loving you. No matter what.”
“I’d have to be nuts to want you to.”
“Because you’re a good man, Jason,” Danielle told him. “You’re generous, strong, and kind. You’re smart, creative, and full of more handsomeness and sex appeal than ought to be legal. And I’m so glad you chose me—”
“We chose each other. End of story.”
“—because that means you can see the same thing I do.” Danielle swept her gaze to his. Held it. “We belong together. No matter what comes, I promise I’ll stick by you. I’ll trust you.”
Humbled and overwhelmed by her admiration and devotion, Jason nodded. He’d needed those things from her, he realized, more than he’d known. Manfully, he cleared his throat.
“Will you trust me to fill your yard with snowmen?”
“Absolutely.” Curiously, she looked around at the messy works in progress. “The kids saw you doing this out the window earlier, didn’t they?”
Jason nodded. “It may have helped that I rolled the same enormous snowball”—he pointed to it—“past the window about six hundred times. I thought you would look eventually, but you didn’t. Then all three kids saw me, but only Aiden came out.”
“Then Zach,” Danielle remembered. “Not long afterward.”
“And finally Karlie.” Jason aimed a warmhearted look at her. “She was a tough one,” he agreed, “but she’s pretty great.”
“No no no!” Karlie yelled on cue. “The snowmen will tip over if you do it like that,” she informed her brothers. “Do it like—” She broke off with a frustrated sound. “Here. Let me.”
Together, Jason and Danielle smiled. “Pretty great.”
“I didn’t even have to bribe her with gifts,” Jason said.
Danielle widened her eyes. “You brought gifts?”
“What kind of Kismet Christmastime newcomer would I be if I didn’t bring gifts?” He nodded at his rented SUV. Inside it was Mr. Moosby’s duffel bag of prototypes. “Speaking of which . . . is there some way to gain honorary townie status? Because I’m interested in making this place my home base from now on, and—”
“But what about Moosby’s?” Danielle interrupted, looking aghast. “What about selling toys?” She aimed a perceptive look at him. “You love working with customers. You know it’s true.”
“It is. That’s why I’ve worked out a way to do even more of that in the future.” Jason put his arm around her, then turned them both to face the snowmen. Cheerfully, he waved at the neighbors. “I’ll tell you all about it over dinner. My treat.”
“If you think we’re having anything except a frivolous dinner composed entirely of pies-in-a-jar from Kristen Miller’s diner . . .” Danielle grinned. “Well, you’d better think again, pal. Because our reunion calls for a big-time celebration!”
“I couldn’t agree more.” Jason peered at the snowmen. There were now two largish three-tiered lumps close by them. Also, three smaller two-tiered lumps next to those, all wearing hats. Followed by . . . “Are they making five little snowmen puppies?”
He and Danielle looked at Zach, Aiden, and Karlie, each of them now crawling around in the snow, rolling snowballs of various sizes, then arranging them in a crooked row.
“Looks like one big, happy family to me,” Danielle said.
“Those are definitely snowmen puppies. Five of them.” Examining their growing size, Jason pursed his lips. He turned to Danielle. “Exactly how big are those puppies you got?”
“You know . . . puppy size.” Her eyes sparkled at him. “I’m not sure how big Labrador puppies grow up to be. Do you know?”
“You brought home five of them without researching first?”
“I was backed into a corner.” Danielle waved to her neighbors too. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Hmm. Maybe my freewheeling nature is rubbing off on you,” Jason said. “Before you know it, you’ll be abandoning to-do lists and clipboards forever.”
“Not likely. Somebody has to be in charge of things.”
“Somebody has to get a bigger house for those puppies.” Jason glanced behind him at Danielle’s modest abode. “I know the kids didn’t want to move to L.A., but do you think they’d mind if we built a bigger place here in Kismet? Maybe on the lake?”
Danielle looked at him as though he’d just asked her if grass was green, water was wet, and Christmas was fantastic.
“First, you’re not sure if it’s okay to buy a round of drinks for a bunch of recently laid-off workers down at The Big Foot,” Danielle said. “Now you don’t know if the single mother you just started dating would like a custom-built mansion?”
“I never said mansion, per se—”
“It was implied, moneybags.” She grinned. “You don’t fool me.”
“—and the dating will only last until you agree to marry me.”
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Openmouthed, Danielle stared at him. “Marry you?”
Jason laughed. Dutifully, he tried to look abashed.
“Whoops. That was supposed to be your Christmas surprise.”
“Let’s,” Danielle said, “have Christmas right now.”
“Nope.” Smiling, Jason drew her into his arms. Feeling full of love, contentment, and more Christmastime good cheer than anyone honestly had a right to, he kissed her. “I’m afraid you’re just going to have to wait for that big diamond ring.”
“Big diamond ring?”
This time, he doubted he looked abashed at all.
“Uh-oh. I guess the cat’s really out of the bag now.”
Danielle gave him a playful swat. “I can’t believe you’re going to make me wait for such momentous presents.”
“I waited for you,” Jason reminded her. “You were worth it.”
“You were, too.” Danielle smiled at him. “You big tease.”
Knowing he was guilty as charged, Jason changed the subject. “Anyway, all that waiting time will give you a chance to show me how to build a snowman. The proper way.”
She arched her brows. “You think there’s a proper way?”
“Nah,” Jason admitted, “but I bet you do.”
Danielle laughed. “You know what? You are perfect for me.”
Then she took his hand, led him to the first of the snowmen, and got down to the important business . . . of loving him.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Growing up in Kismet, Danielle had experienced a lot of varied Christmastime traditions. She’d caroled and spritzed, wassailed and mistletoed. She’d constructed gingerbread houses, made homemade ornaments, and pinned the tail on Rudolph. She’d strung lights. She’d gone sleigh-riding and tree-shopping, gift-buying and charity-giving. She’d even left out oats and carrots for the mythical reindeer along with milk and cookies for Santa.
But in all her years as a verifiable Kismet townie Christmas expert, Danielle had never had a holiday like the one she did the year she met—and fell for—the man of her dreams.
Even if he did, she’d learned, have an irksome habit of doling out Christmas gifts laboriously one at a time . . . when her family had always enjoyed a frenzied free-for-all opening spree.
“Come on,” Danielle grumped on Christmas morning beneath the sparkling tree, with her children and Jason surrounding her and a cup of much-needed coffee at her elbow. “At this rate, opening presents is going to take us all day!”
“That’s the idea.” On the sofa beside her, Jason kissed her. He cradled, very protectively, one particular gift on his lap. “I’ve never had a Christmas like this one before. I want to make it last. I want to savor it. I want to—”
“Is it my turn yet?” Aiden asked. “Can I go?”
At her son’s eager expression, Danielle gave in.
She nodded. “Sure, Aiden. Karlie, would you please help your brother find one of his gifts?”
Just as eagerly, Karlie nodded. Along with her brothers, she’d assumed her usual place at the foot of the Christmas tree, near all the booty. She crawled around amid the presents.
“I can read my own name!” With a hilariously exasperated look, Aiden pulled out a wrapped package. He frowned at the tag. “But not who this is from. It doesn’t say ‘Santa’ or ‘Mommy.’”
Zach glanced at it. “It says ‘Jason.’ ‘Love, Jason.’”
“Yay!” Aiden tore into it. A few seconds later, he pulled out a huge empty fishbowl, a big packet of fish food, and . . . “A robo fish food feeder!” he shrieked, casting an overjoyed look at Jason. “You really made it! Just like we talked about.”
Jason smiled back at him. “It’s our collaboration. I’ll show you how to use it after breakfast, if you want me to.”
But, with a child’s lack of inhibition about trying something new, Aiden was already expertly operating the gadget. He looked at the fishbowl, then the piece of cardstock inside it. He pulled it out, then handed it to Karlie to decipher.
“This is a certificate for all the rest of your fish,” his sister told him, reading. “Dasher, Dancer, Donner, Cupid . . .” She hesitated, then added brightly, “Nemo and Justin!”
“All the reindeer fish!” Aiden confirmed. “Hooray!”
Zach was next. He pulled out a gift. Looked at the tag. “From Jason.” Primly, he glanced up. “Thanks very much, Jason.”
Then he ripped into the package like an untamed wolf.
“A custom Lego set!” He turned the box. “It’s got a motor, like Mindstorms, but without so many pieces.” Zach looked up. “This looks sick. I’m going to build the whole thing myself.”
“If you want help,” Jason promised, “I’m right here. I happen to have a few connections in Denmark, so when I called . . .”
He went on to explain the special arrangements he’d made with his friends in Billund, where the Lego Group was headquartered.
But Karlie was already reaching for her gift. With decorum, she peeled off the tape, folded back the giftwrap, then...
“Fashion Makeover EXTREME?” In polite bafflement, Karlie examined the video game box. “But I’ve already got this game.”
“Not . . . quite.” Jason’s eyes shined with hopefulness and care. “If you look a little more closely, I think you’ll find—”
“Fashion Executive EXTREME!” Karlie amended, hastily reading the description. “In this version, the stars are the designers, not the models. In this version, you play as the boss, not the human clothes hangers in bikinis. And you earn points by doing things, not by standing around looking pretty and being judged on your makeup.” She glanced up. “Awesome! It’s just what I wanted!” she gushed. “But this game doesn’t even exist, so . . .”
“I made it,” Jason explained. “I got on your mom’s computer at work, remotely accessed some tools I keep on my home system in California, and developed a modified version of the game.”
“You can program, too?” Danielle asked. So that’s what he’d been doing in her office all those times he’d slipped away.
“Of course I can. It’s not all race cars made of napkins and paperclips,” Jason said with a grin. “It’s not the nineteenth century. I’m not whittling all the toys with a penknife.”
Duly impressed, Danielle congratulated him. “Your skills are even more far-reaching than I’d realized. I guess that bodes well for your new venture with Mr. Moosby.”
“Our new venture,” he reminded her with a loving look. They’d discussed this already. “The ‘Original Moosby’s’ toy stores we’ve taken over here in Michigan will be ours to run.”
“While Mr. Moosby handles the logistics of production and shipment at the new factory in Kismet,” Karlie recited.
Evidently, she’d been eavesdropping on their conversation about Jason selling some of his Moosby’s shares in exchange for separation and ownership of the regional Midwest toy stores.
“That’s right, brainiac.” Jason tugged her long braid. “I’m not sure I made that game challenging enough for you. I might need to take another run at it—do another mod that’s tougher.”
“Nah. I’ll try this one first.” With a contented look, Karlie nodded at Danielle. “How about you, Mom? You open one!”
Danielle could hardly wait. She fidgeted, glancing at the beribboned, tellingly petite, jewelry-size box on Jason’s lap.
At that moment, though, Jason’s phone rang.
He ignored it. But Danielle recognized the ringtone.
“‘Darth Vader’s Theme’?” she asked. “From Star Wars?”
Jason only shrugged, then silenced his phone. “That means it’s Chip. I forgot to take him out of my phonebook.”
With a quick swipe, Jason did so. Then he put away his phone. But Danielle couldn’t let things go so easily. Not after all the havoc Chip Larsen had tried to wreak on both of them.
“What do you think he wants?” she asked.
Jason offered an indifferent look. “Probably to ge
t in on the ground floor of an exciting new investment opportunity.”
“New investment?”
“The business world has been all abuzz with news of a rumored new collaboration between two star toy entrepreneurs.”
Karlie perked up. “You mean you and Mr. Moosby?”
All the kids—and Danielle—had met that kindly, energetic man before he’d left Kismet to spend the holidays with his wife, Bessie. They’d all liked one another immediately. Having Alfred Moosby around had been like having another grandfather there.
“This one’s a keeper, rookie,” Mr. Moosby had told Jason, giving Danielle a spontaneous hug. “You be sure to treat her right, you hear?”
Naturally, Jason had agreed. Now, he nodded at Karlie.
“Yes, like me and Mr. Moosby. Before we’d even officially agreed to work together again, rumors of our ‘new’ partnership wound up on Twitter and some other social media sites. I think Chip probably wants to get in on the ground floor,” Jason went on, “but this is one venture that won’t have public investors. This time, Mr. Moosby and I are going to retain control.”
Danielle nodded. “Poor Chip,” she said, pretending to be sorry. “Just because he can’t be involved doesn’t mean he won’t hear about how successful it is. All the time, probably.” In a wry tone, she added, “You know how it is with social media—once something is out there, you can’t just take it back.”
The kids nodded sagely. They were more informed about social media these days, now that Danielle had shared Moosby’s photos and online videos with her kids shortly after Jason had returned. She’d carefully explained the situation to them so they wouldn’t be too worried or freaked out. But Zach, Karlie, and Aiden had been thrilled with their fifteen minutes of fame.
“My teacher gave me a better table at lunch,” Zach said.
“My friends wanted my autograph,” Karlie confided.
“My friends aren’t on the Internet,” Aiden told her with a shrug, “so they don’t care. But I like the pictures.”
Danielle’s friends, it turned out, had all believed that Danielle had accepted the online media hullabaloo with Jason as an inevitable part of dating a world-famous superstar CEO . . . and that she just hadn’t wanted to brag about her part in it.
