Yours for Christmas
Page 22

They reached the door and she got out her key. For a second she thought about offering coffee. Only it was late and he might think she was hoping for more than coffee, which she was, but it was probably for the best if that information wasn’t confirmed.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said when she’d opened the door. “For the dinner and the offer to move our stuff.”
“You’re welcome.”
She stared into his face. He was a good-looking guy, but that was the least of it, she thought with a little sigh. His actions were turning out to be even more impressive.
“Good night,” he said and started to turn away.
“’Night.”
But before she could step into her apartment, he spun back, put his hands on her shoulders, bent down and kissed her.
The soft, warm contact of his mouth on hers caught her by surprise. She didn’t know what to do, so she stayed where she was. A second passed, then another. His lips moved against her—lightly, sweetly. She leaned in a little.
Deep inside she felt wanting and hunger. Fire burned hot and bright. But there was more than that. There was a sense of rightness, of belonging. As if she’d been waiting for this moment, for this man, all her life.
He drew back. “Good night, Bailey.”
She nodded and watched him go down the stairs. Then she went into her apartment and closed the door.
* * *
KENNY WENT OVER the account information. He had a couple of client meetings in January. And a list of new clients he wanted to start wooing. That was the part he liked best. Meeting with a client for the first time and blowing them away.
He could usually get a meeting. That came from having a recognizable name. But people who didn’t know him often assumed he was just a dumb jock. They didn’t expect much, which gave him an advantage. One he wasn’t above using.
His phone buzzed.
“Yes?”
“You have a visitor, Kenny,” the receptionist said. “Her name is Chloe.”
He smiled. “Send her back.”
He got up and walked into the hallway. His smile widened when he saw her. She had on a coat and scarf, with a backpack over her shoulders. Long red hair hung down below her hood.
“Kenny!” She flew toward him and hugged him. “It’s snowing again. Isn’t that the best? We’re going to have snow for Christmas.”
“I know. Pretty cool.” He showed her into his office.
It took a couple of seconds for her to drop her backpack on the floor, then shrug out of her coat. He saw the reindeer barrettes in her hair and felt a distinct tugging in the center of his chest. Chloe was a sweet kid and she got to him.
“How about a cup of coffee?” he asked, keeping his voice serious.
Chloe giggled. “I’m seven. I don’t drink coffee.”
“Right. Good point. Let’s go get a hot chocolate.”
Her green eyes widened. “You have hot chocolate at your office?”
“Sure. We have one of those coffeemakers with the pods. It’ll do anything.”
They walked into the break room. He showed Chloe how to use the Keurig brewer. She watched as her drink poured into a mug. There was a plate of cookies on the table. While his coffee brewed, they each picked a cookie, then took them and their drinks back to his office.
She sat on one side of his desk, while he took the other.
She blew on her drink before tasting it, then she smiled. “This is really good.”
“I’m glad. So what’s up?”
“I want to make a jewelry box for my mom,” she told him. “For Christmas.” She dug some sheets out of her backpack. It showed how to decoupage a box and then seal it. “I’ve saved money for the box and I have lots of pictures to put on it. But my friend Allison’s mom said I’ll need help to get it finished. Can you help me?”
Self-preservation meant saying no. Chloe’s big green eyes told him that wasn’t going to happen. He was in dangerous territory, but that couldn’t be helped.
“Sure thing. We can go get the supplies now, if you want. Then work on it over the next few days.”
She smiled. “Thank you. I also need to get my mom some presents for her stocking.” She shrugged. “I know there’s no Santa, but stockings are important. She doesn’t have one. Just me. Don’t you think my mom should have a stocking?”
“I do. Have you thought about what to put in it?”
“It’s supposed to be fun stuff. Candy and little toys. Maybe a lip gloss.” She pulled several crumbled dollar bills out of her pocket. “Is this going to be enough?”
She might as well have reached into his chest and pulled out his still-beating heart, he thought as he stared at what looked like three dollars and change. Kids were tough—and the best part of life.
“Yeah,” he told her, trying to keep any emotion out of his voice. “That’s plenty.”
Because he would pay for whatever Chloe wanted to get. Not just for the girl herself, but for her mom, who’d done a great job with her daughter.
* * *
“THANK YOU,” BAILEY SAID, telling herself it would be bad to start sobbing. Her real estate agent had been incredibly supportive. Breaking down in tears, however happy, would only frighten the woman.
Her agent smiled at her. “Merry Christmas, Bailey. You’re a homeowner.”
Bailey nodded and walked out of the office. She clutched her house key tightly in her hand. It had really, really happened. She officially, legally and every other l-y word she couldn’t think of right now, owned the house. It was hers. Escrow had closed.