by Teri Wilson
He squinted at the shoes. They were mismatched, which seemed odd. Why would Felicity wear shoes that didn’t match?
The mystery was solved upon closer inspection. The stilettos weren’t a coordinating pair, but they both bore a matching set of small, canine bite marks.
Duchess. Wade sighed. The dog was going to make him look bad, just when he and Felicity started getting closer. Then again, hadn’t he warned Felicity that the little spaniel could get into trouble?
He picked up one of the shoes and saw the words Kate Spade etched into the soft leather. Hoo boy. This couldn’t be good.
He backtracked to his bedroom where Duchess lolled at the foot of the bed like Marie Antoinette. She cocked her head at him, pink bows askew.
“See this?” He held up the shoe. “No. Bad dog.”
Duchess whined and rolled over onto her back in a picture-perfect display of surrender. The dog had an uncanny ability to tug on the heartstrings, he’d give her that.
“Do you think you could stay out of trouble while I’m at work?” He crossed his arms and glared down at her, but her tail wagged as if he’d just promised her a doghouse made of bacon. “Please?”
She flopped over, crawled to his pillow and then yawned and promptly went back to sleep. Wade’s lecture had fallen on deaf ears in every sense of the word. He thought that using the chewed-up designer shoe as a visual aid would have helped, but who knew?
As a precaution, he picked up Felicity’s pink purse from the sofa in the living room and placed it safely out of canine reach on the kitchen counter before he left. One fashion disaster was enough for the day.
“Rough morning?” Jack asked when he walked into the kitchen at the firehouse. As usual, he stood at the stove poking at something with a spatula.
“Sort of, I guess. Duchess has developed a fondness for Felicity’s shoes.” Wade reached for a coffee cup. “And I didn’t get much sleep, but I’m starting to get used to that.”
Especially if it meant seeing Felicity walk around in the semi-darkness in her ruffly pink robe and girlie velvet slippers—so long as Duchess didn’t get to the slippers first. In any case, there were certain benefits to getting up for the middle-of-the-night feedings.
“I can’t do anything about your first problem, but I got you something that might help you out with the second.” Jack waved his spatula at a shiny reindeer bag sitting on the kitchen table.
Wade examined the bag. The reindeer stared back at him with comical googly eyes, and he got the definite feeling it had originally been purchased with Emma and Ella in mind. “Is this a Christmas present? For me?”
Jack shrugged. “Just something I picked up. It’s more of a baby gift, but Madison thought I should wrap it properly. We’ve got Christmas gift bags and wrapping paper coming out of our ears.”
Wade peered into the gift bag. Two white, handheld radios were nestled among piles of glittery tissue paper. “Walkie-talkies?”
He still didn’t qualify as a baby expert, but he was fairly certain Nick was too young for those.
“Wow. You really are new at this, aren’t you?” Jack rolled his eyes. “They’re not walkie-talkies. It’s a baby monitor. You put one in the baby’s room and the other wherever you are. That way when Nick wakes up, you’ll know. You might actually get some rest at night instead of trying to sleep while staying on high alert.”
“That’s genius.” Wade picked up one of the baby monitor consoles for a closer look and ignored Jack’s amused expression. Yes, he was a beginner at the dad thing, but he was learning.
You’re not actually a dad, remember?
He placed the baby monitor back inside the wrapping. “Thanks, man.”
“Sure thing. Just trying to help.” Jack shrugged and slid his skillet full of sizzling breakfast sausage onto a platter. “I know you and Felicity haven’t had much of a chance to go shopping for baby supplies, and I figured you could use them.”
Wade plucked a piece of sausage off the counter and wondered if it was a bad thing or a good thing that he was getting used to hearing Jack talk about Felicity and him as if they were a unit. A couple. Everyone in town seemed to be doing it, according to Felicity. Come to think of it, no one had dropped off a casserole for him in days.
He laughed quietly to himself and then looked up to find Jack watching him with a smirk.
“What?” Wade said.
“You just look happy.”
I am...for now. But Wade knew just how fleeting happiness could be. And nothing about his new normal was permanent. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted it to be.
Liar.
All at once, Wade couldn’t seem to look at his friend. And when Cap strolled into the kitchen and asked who wanted to do the inspections at the Christmas-tree lot that had been set up on the sidewalk near Village Market, Wade was the first volunteer. Being stuck inside with his thoughts was beginning to feel far more dangerous than anything related to fighting fires.
* * *
“She ate your shoes?” Madison’s hand flew to her heart, and she gasped. “Oh, my gosh, were they designer?”
Felicity nodded as she rocked Nick in her arms and paced the floor of the empty yoga studio. “Kate Spade—from the Fashionista closet.”
One of the perks of working for a fashion magazine had been access to Fashionista’s legendary “closet,” which contained all the clothes, shoes and accessories used for photo shoots and video content for the magazine’s social media. Nearly everything Felicity wore had come straight from the closet, including her coveted Birkin bag, which would’ve been impossible to purchase on her editor salary. As it was, the bag had been in such high demand that the fashion editor organized a drawing for the purse, and Felicity had been the lucky winner.
Of course, if Nama-Stay Awhile continued at its current dismal pace, she might have to sell it on Poshmark to continue feeding herself once she was no longer living with Wade.
The very idea of it made her ill, although she wasn’t entirely sure which was worse—the potential loss of her Birkin or Wade Ericson. The more she got to know him, the more she realized that walking away from him was going to be a lot harder than she’d anticipated. Even her rules couldn’t seem to protect her anymore.
He’s not actually yours. You can’t lose someone who never belonged to you to begin with. Right. She wasn’t Mary, and Wade wasn’t Joseph. The baby in her arms certainly hadn’t come into their lives in a manger. Once Christmas was over, everything would go back to normal.
“The dog sounds terrible. Truly awful,” Madison said as she rolled up her yoga mat. She’d popped in for the half-hour lunch-break class that Felicity had thought would be a huge success.
Wrong.
Again.
Maybe it was for the best, though. Nick wanted to be held, and since Madison was her only student, they’d decided to just chat and take turns rocking him until Madison had to get back to work at the Bee.
“She’s not so bad. She’s an awfully cute dog, and she worships the ground Wade walks on. Me, not so much.”
Madison’s eyes narrowed. “You mean there’s a pattern to this behavior?”
“Sometimes I think so. She either sleeps on Wade’s bed at night or on the floor beneath Nick’s crib in the nursery, but she won’t set foot in my room.” Or technically, set paw.
“Except to steal your shoes,” Madison said flatly.
Felicity stopped pacing and rubbed her hand in gentle circles on Nick’s little back. “Good point.”
Wade had warned her the dog could be a handful, but maybe her behavior was personal. Was that even possible?
“Hey, look! Someone’s coming.” Madison pointed to the frosted glass door of the studio, where a shadow loomed, followed by a knock. “Maybe you have a new client.”
Felicity handed over the baby. “Let’s hope so. Can you watch Nick real qu
ick while I get that?”
“Sure.”
Maybe appearing in the living nativity had actually been good for business, just like she’d hoped when she’d originally let Alice talk her into it. That had been Felicity’s plan all along, before she’d upped and moved in with Joseph. Oh, what a difference a few days had made.
Her hopes dashed when she opened the door and found Diane Foster standing on the threshold in street clothes and nary a yoga mat in sight. “Hi, Diane.”
Diane grinned. “Oh, hi, Felicity. Good. I was hoping you wouldn’t be too busy to come to the door.”
Too busy? Ha.
Diane bent to pull a small, foil-wrapped pan from the storage department of the baby stroller at her side. “Here.”
Felicity glanced down at the baking dish and then back at Diane. “Is that a casserole?”
Unbelievable. Now Wade’s fan club was dropping off meals at her yoga studio? A hot spike of something that felt far too much like jealousy hit her in the center of her chest.
“It’s brownies, actually. Peppermint dark chocolate swirl.” Diane pushed the pan closer. “You do like chocolate, don’t you?”
Felicity took the brownies. What else was she supposed to do? Plus, they smelled heavenly—like Christmas decadence on steroids. Maybe she’d polish them off herself and “forget” to tell Wade they’d ever existed.
Whoa, there. Her inner green-eyed monster was showing, and not the Grinch.
Oh, God. I am jealous.
She plastered on a smile. “I do like chocolate, and I’m sure Wade does, too. I’ll be sure and tell him you brought them by for him.” It would be humiliating, but she’d manage.
Diane waved a hand. “The brownies aren’t for Wade, silly. They’re for you.”
“For me,” Felicity echoed. What was happening? No one had ever presented her with homemade baked goods in her life.
Except, now that she thought about it, Alice was always baking things and bringing them to class. And now the queen of the Lovestruck moms was giving her brownies—peppermint dark chocolate brownies that in no way resembled the boxed variety that Felicity usually whipped up on a whim on Friday nights to enjoy with a glass of wine and a chick flick.
Was this what people did in small towns? It seemed almost too good to be true, and something that would never, ever happen in Manhattan. The thought was almost laughable. If a near-stranger had ever presented Felicity with a pan of homemade brownies in New York, she wouldn’t have gone anywhere near it.
“Yes, for you. Just a little welcome to Lovestruck. We’re all so happy about you, Wade and the little one.” Diane’s gaze drifted over Felicity’s shoulder toward Madison, cooing at Nick.
“Well, thank you. It’s a lovely surprise.” Felicity really didn’t want to invite her inside. What would she possibly say if Diane pressed for details about the baby? It seemed rude not to, though. “Would you, um, like to come in for a bit?”
“So sorry, I can’t. We’re actually on our way to knitting class next door at the yarn shop.”
Felicity exhaled in relief, despite the realization that Main Street Yarn apparently managed to attract students to a midday class. What was she doing wrong?
“Another time, maybe,” she said.
“Oh, I almost forgot!” Diane picked up a small stack of envelopes that were resting on the canopy of her baby stroller. “The mail carrier came by just before I knocked. He left these for you.”
“Mail and brownies. Thank you.” Felicity reached for the envelopes, and when she caught a glimpse of the item at the top of the stack, she froze in place.
Diane must have said goodbye, because in what seemed like a split second, she was gone. Felicity couldn’t be certain, though, because there was a terrible roar in her ears. She couldn’t tear her attention from the Christmas card in her hands. It was a photo card—one of those postcard-style Christmas greetings, boasting a sweet picture of a young mother and her baby, dressed in matching Christmas dresses.
Lori and Ariel.
Felicity was spellbound by the image. Ariel had gotten so big, and Lori looked so natural holding her. So happy.
Like a real mother.
Felicity’s legs went wobbly. She needed to sit down—now—and then possibly eat the entire pan full of brownies. She knew from experience that chocolate wasn’t an actual remedy for heartbreak, but it couldn’t hurt.
“Felicity, is everything okay?” Madison said.
Felicity looked up, and the sight of Nick’s angelic face managed to pull her back to the here and now.
“Sorry, I just spaced out there for a second.” She shoved the mail into the pocket of the fuzzy Angora sweater she liked to wear to and from the studio. Then she held the brownie pan aloft. “Look, we have brownies.”
“Nice.” Madison waggled her eyebrows and lifted a corner of the foil to take a peek.
“Is it? Why would Diane Foster cook for me? I thought she only did that for Wade,” Felicity said. Under her breath, she couldn’t help but add, “Like every other woman in Lovestruck.”
Madison snorted with laughter, prompting a giggle from Nick. “That’s just what people do here, and Wade is a local hero. You didn’t think it really meant anything, did you? Diane is married.”
“You haven’t seen the casserole collection in his freezer. It’s a thing to behold.”
Madison let out another snort and looked Felicity up and down. “Oh, my gosh, look at you. You’re jealous.”
“No, I’m not,” Felicity said in the most jealous-sounding tone imaginable.
“You are. I knew there was something going on between you two.” Madison bounced Nick in her arms with renewed vigor. “But honestly, don’t give the casseroles a second thought. The town has a collective crush on your man, that’s all. It’s perfectly innocent. Kind of sweet, actually.”
“He’s not my man,” Felicity countered. “I know it might look that way, but...”
Her voice trailed off as a thought occurred to her—an idea she’d never considered before, even though it was as obvious as the nose on her face.
“What?” Madison’s brow furrowed.
Felicity shot her a triumphant grin. “I think I just figured out why Duchess is eating my shoes.”
* * *
“We need to have a chat,” Felicity said.
Duchess peered up at her from beneath Nick’s crib and wagged just the tip of her tail. Felicity had tried her best to lure her out into the open. She’d offered up every variety of edible incentive, from boxed gourmet dog treats to sliced deli meat from Village Market. But the stubborn little dog wouldn’t be swayed.
Fine.
Felicity wasn’t backing down. “I know what’s going on here. You’re jealous.”
Duchess blinked her wide eyes, then looked away and started licking one of her paws.
Felicity sighed. “Ignore me if you like, but I’m not going away.”
And neither were her shoes. They were all simply going to have to find a way to peacefully coexist.
“Look, I get it. Wade is yours. It’s only natural to feel slightly threatened by a new female in his life. He’s special, and of course you want to protect him.”
Felicity’s soul ached every time she thought about what he’d told her about his father. If anyone deserved to be part of a happy family, it was Wade. “He’s a good man—caring, thoughtful...heroic.”
Her tummy fluttered. “Not to mention charming. And handsome—can’t forget that. You’re a dog, so maybe you haven’t noticed. But let me assure you, by human standards, he’s quite the specimen.”
Duchess looked up and cocked her head.
“Right. You knew that. How could you not?” Felicity took a deep breath. “But what I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to worry. He’s yours, and nothing will ever change that. I’m not going to fall
in love with him. I promise I’m not. Ever.”
The dog rested her head on her paws and sighed.
“No matter how bad I want to,” Felicity added, and to her great mortification, tears pooled in her eyes.
She’d reached a new low, apparently—crying to Wade’s dog over how irresistible he was. This wasn’t how her little lecture was supposed to go. RIP her closet. She probably wouldn’t have a single designer shoe left after Christmas.
But then she heard someone make a tsk-tsk noise behind her. A very male, very heroic someone. “Never, ever? Are you sure?”
She turned around, even though what she wanted most of all was to dive under Nick’s crib and hide alongside Duchess.
Wade stood in the doorway to the nursery, grinning from ear to ear. His feet were clad in his hideous socks, and he was dressed in an old, faded LFD shirt and sweatpants. Felicity wanted nothing more than to crawl into his lap, sit by a cozy fire and feed each other Diane Foster’s brownies. If a few pair of Kate Spade shoes had to sacrifice themselves to make it happen, so be it.
Her mouth went dry. “You’re home.”
Thank goodness the man couldn’t see inside her head. Although, who was she kidding? He’d evidently just heard an earful.
“Yep.”
“I was just having a chat with Duchess about my shoes, and...um...other things.”
His eyes twinkled. “So I heard.”
“Private things,” she added as her face prickled with heat.
“Sorry. I got home a few minutes ago and I couldn’t help overhearing.” He nodded in the direction of the changing table, where a brand-spanking-new baby monitor sat with a little blue light blinking in the corner.
Super. He’d heard everything.
Felicity’s mortification magnified tenfold. She crossed her arms, but it only made her more aware of the panicked beating of her heart. “Since when do we have a baby monitor?”
