A Cinderella Story: Maid Under the Mistletoe / My Fair Billionaire / Second Chance with the CEO. Maureen Child

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СКАЧАТЬ didn’t have to wait long. “It’s good.”

      “Told ya!” Holly’s voice was a crow of pleasure.

      “Yeah,” he said, flicking the girl an amused glance. “You did.”

      Joy saw that quick look and smiled inside at the warmth of it.

      “When we went to town today I played with Lizzie’s puppy,” Holly said, taking another bite and wolfing it down so she could keep talking. “He licked me in the face again and I laughed and Lizzie and me ran and he chased us and he made Lizzie fall but she didn’t cry...”

      Joy smiled at her daughter, loving how the girl could launch into a conversation that didn’t need a partner, commas or periods. She was so thrilled by life, so eager to experience everything, just watching her made Joy’s life better in every possible way. From the corner of her eye, she stole a look at Sam and saw the flicker of pain in his eyes. It had to be hard for him to listen to a child’s laughter and have to grieve for the loss of his own child. But he couldn’t avoid children forever. He’d end up a miserable old man, and that would be a waste, she told herself.

      “And when I get my puppy, Lizzie can come and play with it, too, and it will chase us and mine will be white cuz Lizzie’s is black and it would be fun to have puppies like that...”

      “She’s really counting on that puppy,” Joy murmured.

      “So?” Sam dipped into his stew steadily as if he was hurrying to finish so he could escape the dining room—and their company.

      Deliberately, Joy refilled his bowl over his complaints.

      “So, there aren’t any white puppies to be had,” she whispered, her own voice covered by the rattle of Holly’s excited chatter.

      “Santa’s going to bring him, remember, Mommy?” Holly asked, proving that her hearing was not affected by the rush of words tumbling from her own mouth.

      “That’s right, baby,” Joy said with a wince at Sam’s smirk. “But you know, sometimes Santa can’t bring everything you want—”

      “If you’re not a good girl,” Holly said, nodding sharply. “But I am a good girl, right, Mommy?”

      “Right, baby.” She was really stuck now. Joy was going to have to go into Boise and look for a puppy or she was going to have a heartbroken daughter on Christmas morning, and that she couldn’t allow.

      Too many of Joy’s childhood Christmases had been empty, lonely. She never wanted Holly to feel the kind of disappointment Joy had known all too often.

      “I told Lizzie about the fairy house we made, Sam, and she said she has fairies at her house, but I don’t think so cuz you need lots of trees for fairies and there’s not any at Lizzie’s...”

      “The kid never shuts up,” Sam said, awe in his voice.

      “She’s excited.” Joy shrugged. “Christmas is coming.”

      His features froze over and Joy could have kicked herself. Sure, she planned on waking him up to life, but she couldn’t just toss him into the middle of a fire, could she? She had to ease him closer to the warmth a little at a time.

      “Yeah.”

      “I know you said no decorations or—”

      His gaze snapped to hers, cold. Hard. “That’s right.”

      “In the great room,” she continued as if he hadn’t said a word, as if she hadn’t gotten a quick chill from the ice in his eyes, “but Holly and I are here for the whole month and a little girl needs Christmas. So we’ll keep the decorations to a minimum.”

      His mouth worked as if he wanted to argue and couldn’t find a way to do it without being a complete jerk. “Fine.”

      She reached out and gave his forearm a quick pat. Even with removing her hand almost instantly, that swift buzz of something amazing tingled her fingers. Joy took a breath, smiled and said, “Don’t worry, we won’t be too happy around you, either. Wouldn’t want you upset by the holiday spirit.”

      He shot her a wry look. “Thanks.”

      “No problem.” Joy grinned at him. “You have to be careful or you could catch some stray laugh and maybe even try to join in only to have your face break.”

      Holly laughed. “Mommy, that’s silly. Faces can’t break, can they, Sam?”

      His brown eyes were lit with suppressed laughter, and Joy considered that a win for her. “You’re right, Holly. Faces can’t break.”

      “Just freeze?” Joy asked, her lips curving.

      “Yeah. I’m good at freezing,” he said, gaze meeting hers in a steady stare.

      “That’s cuz it’s cold,” Holly said, then added, “Can I be done now, Mommy?”

      Joy tore her gaze from his long enough to check that her daughter had eaten most of her dinner. “Yes, sweetie. Why don’t you go get the pinecones we found today and put them on the kitchen counter? We’ll paint them after I clean up.”

      “Okay!” The little girl scooted off the chair, ran around the table and stopped beside Sam. “You wanna paint with me? We got glitter, too, to put on the pinecones and we get to use glue to stick it.”

      Joy watched him, saw his eyes soften, then saw him take a deliberate, emotional step back. Her heart hurt, remembering what she now knew about his past. And with the sound of her daughter’s high-pitched, excited voice ringing in the room, Joy wondered again how he’d survived such a tremendous loss. But even as she thought it, Joy realized that he was like a survivor of a disaster.

      He’d lived through it but he wasn’t living. He was still existing in that half world of shock and pain, and it looked to her as though he’d been there so long he didn’t have a clue how to get out. And that’s where Joy came in. She wouldn’t leave him in the dark. Couldn’t watch him let his life slide past.

      “No, thanks.” Sam gave the little girl a tight smile. “You go ahead. I’ve got some things I’ve got to do.”

      Well, at least he didn’t say anything about hating Christmas. “Go ahead, sweetie. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

      “Okay, Mommy. ’Bye, Sam!” Holly waved, turned and raced toward the kitchen, eager to get started on those pinecones.

      When they were alone again, Joy looked at the man opposite her and smiled. “Thanks for not popping her Christmas balloon.”

      He scowled at her and pushed his empty bowl to one side. “I’m not a monster.”

      “No,” she said, thoughtfully. “You’re not.”

      He ignored that. “Look, I agreed to you and Holly doing Christmas stuff in your part of the house. Just don’t try to drag me into it. Deal?”

      She held out one hand and left it there until he took it in his and gave it a firm shake. Of course, she had no intention of keeping to that “deal.” Instead, she СКАЧАТЬ