A Little Bit of Holiday Magic. Melissa McClone

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      CHAPTER THREE

      THE SMELL OF freshly brewed coffee enticed Grace to open her heavy eyelids. The scent made her mouth water and her tummy grumble. A cup of java and one of Damon’s banana walnut muffins sounded so—

      Wait a minute.

      Her husband was dead. She was in bed.

      Who made the coffee?

      She blinked, disoriented and confused.

      Light filtered through the window blinds. Not her apartment. Not anyplace she recognized.

      Grace bolted upright.

      Tall dresser, closet door, closed bedroom door.

      Memories of the night before exploded in her mind. Driving in the blizzard. Crashing into the snowbank. Stumbling to Bill Paulson’s front door. She hadn’t been dreaming. Last night had been real.

      Grace stretched her sleep-drenched arms and arched her back, like a drowsy cat waking from a much-needed nap.

      She’d slept through the night. No bad dreams to wake her.

      Amazing, considering she hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since Damon’s death, and odd, since she was sleeping in a strange house in a stranger’s guest room. Maybe this move to Astoria hadn’t been the worst idea since skinny jeans.

      Wind shook the window. The storm hadn’t let up.

      “We sure aren’t in Columbus anymore, baby.”

      Grace moved her hand to the right to touch her son. Her fingers hit the mattress. “Liam?”

      The spot next to her was empty.

      No Liam.

      No Peanut.

      Her stomach clenched. Her heartbeat roared in her ears. “Liam.”

      No answer.

      A million and one thoughts raced through her head, none of them good.

      She scrambled out of bed, threw open the door and raced down the hallway. Every muscle bunched.

      The sheriff had vouched for Bill Paulson. She’d been taken with the handsome firefighter herself. But Bill wasn’t used to having kids in the house. What if he’d left cleaning solution where Liam could reach it? What if he’d left a door unlocked and Liam had wandered out of the house? What if? What if? What if?

      Every nerve ending twitched. Her stomach roiled. She thought she might be physically ill.

      It’ll be okay, babe.

      If only she could believe that.

      “You’d better not do that again, Liam.” Bill’s voice, loud and boisterous, sounded from the kitchen. “I’m warning you.”

      Liam wasn’t outside, but the knowledge didn’t loosen the tension in her shoulders. Something was going on.

      Grace accelerated her pace, lengthening her stride. She rounded the corner. Skidded to a stop.

      On the floor between the dining area and breakfast bar, Bill sat crisscross applesauce with Liam and at least thirty dominoes set up in a row.

      “I mean it this time.” Bill tried to sound serious, but his mouth curved upward, a big grin tugging at his lips. “Don’t touch the dominoes!”

      Defiance gleamed in Liam’s gaze. Mischief, too. He raised his arm, made a small fist and pushed over the first domino. The rest cascaded one on top of the other.

      “You did it again!” Bill placed his hand over his heart and tumbled to the floor as if he’d been knocked over, too. “What are we going to do, Peanut? Liam won’t listen.”

      Her son giggled.

      The sheer delight in his voice warmed Grace’s insides. Her pulse slowed. Her heart rate returned to normal. A bolt of guilt flashed through her at being so quick to think the worst of Bill Paulson when she’d woken up without Liam next to her.

      Liam clapped. “Again. Again.”

      “Okay, kid. But only for you.” Bill reset the dominoes, a job that took patience and a steady hand. “One more time.”

      Liam spread his fingers. “Ten more.”

      Grace wondered how many times they’d played this game. Knowing Liam, at least ten, but Bill didn’t seem to mind.

      “Two more,” Bill countered. “I’m getting hungry.”

      “Four more. I help cook.”

      “You strike a hard bargain, little dude.” He stuck out his arm. “But it’s a deal.”

      Liam shook Bill’s hand. “Deal.”

      The guys from Damon’s squad, Liam’s honorary uncles, visited when they could, but over the past two years they’d dropped by less and less. Some attended professional development schools. Some went to Special Forces training. Some joined other military units. Some left the army. Their group of friends had gotten smaller, but Liam had never been this animated with them, people he’d known his entire life. He rarely acted this way with her. Only Peanut. Liam’s one and only friend.

      Though Bill Paulson could probably qualify as her son’s friend now. The guy had the right touch with Liam.

      Jealousy stabbed Grace, an unexpected emotion. One she didn’t like.

      So what if her son had a new friend? Bill was nothing more than a nice guy who’d offered them shelter for the night. Something she would expect from a man who rescued people for a living, but she hadn’t imagined a bachelor being so in tune with a three-year-old.

      Watching Bill and her son play together made her feel older than twenty-six. Sure, she got on the floor, and didn’t mind a big mess with art projects or mud. But she was always so tired, as if she carried a hundred-pound pack all day, struggling to keep herself balanced and not fall over like one of those dominoes.

      Unlike Bill. No tired eyes. No sagging shoulders. Only smiles and an innate strength she felt from the doorway.

      She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Good morning.”

      Liam jumped to his feet and ran toward her. “Mommy.”

      The excitement in his voice warmed Grace’s heart. This was more like it. She scooped him up, eager to have him in her arms. “I woke up, and you weren’t in bed.”

      Liam gave her a wet kiss. “I wake up. Peanut, too. You asleep so I get Bill.”

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