Her Holiday Man Page 4

  “They were willing to take care of Nathaniel and to give me money,” she said, remembering that horrible conversation. When she’d been down, it was her in-laws who kicked her the hardest.

  “But you said no?”

  “In order to have my son taken care of and to receive a lump sum of money that I could have lived on modestly but comfortably for a long time, I had to sign custody of Nathaniel over to them.” It still turned her stomach just thinking about it.

  “They wanted to buy their grandson from you?” Will asked, and she appreciated the note of horror in his voice. “From his own mother?”

  “Essentially, yes.”

  “I hope you told them to go... I assume you told them no.”

  She hesitated, and then told him the truth. “I hesitated. It was terrifying, not knowing how to take care of myself, never mind my son. But they started talking about the Forrester legacy and how Nathaniel had to be raised to their standards and I remembered that these were the people who raised Robert. Not that I hold them responsible for what Robert did, but for them to sit there and imply I was somehow less than a man who’d stolen money and left his wife and child bankrupt... Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake, though. When I’m trying to figure out the math to make sure I can buy food and pay the heating bill, I wonder if I made a mistake putting my pride in front of my son’s welfare.”

  “You didn’t.”

  They were only two words, but Will said them so immediately and with such certainty, Christina felt tears well up in her eyes. Since her life had been turned upside down, she’d been in a constant state of doubt, second-guessing herself and her ability to get through each day every time she closed her eyes to sleep. Even though she hardly knew this man, he sounded so sure she’d made the right decision, it helped soothe that anxiety.

  “Does he see his dad at all?” Will asked.

  She shook her head. “Robert doesn’t want Nathaniel to see him in prison. Even if he doesn’t serve his entire sentence, he’ll be away so long that... I don’t know. Honestly, I’ve been focused on the two of us. If Robert decides he wants to see him, I’ll deal with it then.”

  “Must be hard on the kid.”

  “That’s the really sad part. Robert was away so much and so wrapped up in his work even when he wasn’t traveling, Nathaniel doesn’t seem to really feel his loss.”

  “You’re right. That is the sad part.” Will looked at her, his dark gaze meeting hers. “It’s a good thing he has a mom who loves him enough for both parents.”

  Emotion welled up in her, threatening to make her break down into actual tears, and she shoved it down. Calling on a lifetime of not making a scene, she inhaled slowly through her nose and steadied herself. Then she smiled.

  “I bet this is just how you wanted to spend your Saturday,” she said. “Changing my smoke detector batteries and listening to my sob story.”

  “Unlike that shark tank you came from, we take care of our own here.”

  “I’m one of your own?” The inclusion almost brought her to the brink of tears again.

  He chuckled. “You became one of our own the minute my mother walked into your life.”

  “She’s such a blessing.”

  “You got to miss out on being a teenager under her roof but, yeah, Ma’s pretty great.” He picked up the stepladder. “Nathaniel seems like a great kid, Christina. Just keep doing what you’re doing, but don’t forget you have friends now. That’s all.”

  After he was gone, Christina sank onto the couch and rested her head against the cushion. It had been a long time since she’d thought about herself and sex in the same sentence. Robert had always been busy—and now she wondered if he’d been as loose with their marriage vows as he had with her money—and then she’d been too stressed and tired to even think about it.

  But she was thinking about it now. And she needed to stop before she screwed everything up making a fool of herself.

  You have friends now. And she intended to keep it that way.

  Chapter Three

  Over the course of the next week, Will realized there was one thing about Christina that really annoyed him. He spent way too much time thinking about her.

  Even though they hadn’t crossed paths other than a quick hello if he happened to be downstairs when she picked up Nathaniel, he couldn’t seem to put her out of his mind. He even found himself glancing across the street way too often, as if hoping for a glimpse of her. It was ridiculous and he was getting disgusted with himself.

  It wasn’t as if he’d gone without female company for the last five years. It had taken a while, but he’d finally worked his way around to some one-night stands with women who didn’t want any more from him than he wanted from them. Some stuck around longer than others, and he’d even had a few relationships that almost met the definition of the word. But he hadn’t been able to open up enough to keep a woman happy and eventually they moved on.

  That wasn’t a bad way to do things when their only connection was some fun in the sack and he could pack up and move on to the next town whenever he wanted. That wouldn’t be the case with Christina. Even if she was willing to have some no-strings fun, this was his hometown and she was a friend and neighbor. As crude as it was, the phrase “you don’t shit where you eat” was something he was needing to remind himself of several times a day.

  Even turning the shower knob to cold when he was done scrubbing away a day of working in Hammond’s garage wasn’t helping.

  Looking for a distraction, he opened his ancient laptop and waited while it took its sweet time hooking into his mom’s Wi-Fi network. He should probably replace it, but he only really used it for the photos of the kids and quick notes his sister emailed him, since his cell phone was almost as old as the computer and wasn’t good for pictures.

  After a moment’s hesitation, he punched Christina’s husband’s name into the search engine. There was no shortage of results outlining Robert Forrester’s crimes. The legal and financial mumbo-jumbo went over his head, but the gist of it was that a bunch of very rich people had trusted Forrester with very large sums of money and he’d engaged in some kind of illegal scam that lost it all. It was all there on the internet—indictment, divorce and a whopping prison sentence.

  He amended his search bar to include Christina’s name and hit Return again. A line of images popped up and he clicked on a photo of Mr. and Mrs. Forrester at a charity ball. She was wearing a deep blue gown that, combined with the jewelry, probably cost more than his parents’ house. Her hair was swept up into some kind of fancy twist and she had that polished, perfect look only a great deal of money could buy.

  There were more and he clicked through them. Different gowns, different jewelry, different hairstyles. Even in the casual photos, taken at teas or luncheons, the dresses were more high-class than anything he’d ever seen. And she always had the same polished look with the polite smile on her face. The photos left him cold.

  The Christina Forrester he’d shared a meal with had been warm and, when she smiled, it lit up her face. Since even a mediocre photographer should have been able to capture that, he could only guess she’d hadn’t let her personality shine through until the world on the laptop screen had turned its back on her.

  She had been slimmer in the pictures, too. The kind of slim that came from fancy restaurants that put a thumb-sized piece of chicken and some green leaves on a plate and called it a meal. She had some curves now, and she not only looked sexier but happier, too.

  When she’d been on the stepladder, with her arms stretched over her head to reach the smoke detectors, he’d had to stare at the ceiling to keep himself in check. With her jeans hugging her hips and ass, and a soft sweater draped over her breasts and lifting just enough to give him a glimpse of smooth skin over her waistband, he’d been tempted to make a move.

  With a
growl of frustration, he left the search results and signed into his email account. Nothing but junk, which wasn’t a surprise. Erin had called him a few days ago, absolutely beside herself with joy that he was back. The little one was sick, so she couldn’t visit yet, but she’d see him on Thanksgiving.

  His cell phone rang and he snatched it up, thankful for the reprieve from his own thoughts. When he saw the number for his mother’s landline on his screen, he smiled because a glance at the clock told him this was a dinner invitation. “Hi, Mom.”

  “I have a hankering for fried chicken, but it’s too messy to make for one. Care to join me?”

  Since he’d been contemplating a microwave pizza, he didn’t have to be asked twice. “I’ll be right down to help.”

  It was quiet when he walked into his mom’s kitchen, and he realized the television wasn’t on in the living room. By now Nathaniel had usually finished his chores and homework, which meant he could have cartoon time until his mom picked him up.

  “Where’s the kid?” he asked his mom, who was rummaging through the fridge.

  “Christina said she’d work Thanksgiving, so they let her take off early today. She took Nathaniel to an afternoon matinee at the theater.”

  “Cool,” he said, trying to sound disinterested, but in truth he was a little disappointed. Nathaniel was a good kid and, obviously, he didn’t mind seeing Nathaniel’s mother.

  “I hope you don’t mind having Nathaniel over here on Thanksgiving,” his mom said.

  “Of course not.”

  “I didn’t think you would. So...” She stood up, a jar of mayo in her hand, and smiled at him. “I invited Christina to dinner, too.”

  She was killing him. “There’s no sense in the two of them eating alone, but didn’t you just say she’s working on Thanksgiving?”

  “Only until early afternoon, so we’ll eat a little later than usual, but not so late Erin and her family won’t be over for pie.”

  “Oh, that reminds me.” He took the mayo from her and grabbed a spoon, since it was obvious from the big bowl of rinsed macaroni noodles, he was expected to work on the macaroni salad while she fried chicken. “Do you think Erin would mind cutting Christina’s hair while she’s here? Her bangs are long and her color’s growing out because she doesn’t have money to get it done professionally anymore. It looks long enough so Erin can cut off the last of the dyed stuff without making it too short for those ponytails Christina likes.”

  His mom turned from the stove to give him a look. “Well, aren’t you the observant one?”

  Only knowing from experience she’d whack him with a towel kept him from rolling his eyes. “I helped her change the batteries in her smoke detectors last week and she had to keep brushing her hair out of her eyes, so it came up. That’s all.”

  Then he turned his back to dump mayo in the bowl of macaroni. His mother was far too sharp for his own good. Even worse than being upset he was attracted to her young friend would be her getting it in her head they’d be a great match.

  In an intimate setting like the family Thanksgiving dinner, he was going to have to stay on his toes and keep his eyes on his plate.

  * * *

  By the end of her Thanksgiving Day shift, Christina was exhausted. The QuickStop was one of only two gas stations in town open, so she’d barely snuck in a mid-morning snack. Being paid double-time and a half made up for it, though, especially since Gail hadn’t minded taking Nathaniel for the morning.

  When her shift was over, she quickly went home to shower and then made her way across the street. She was a little nervous today because she’d be meeting Gail’s daughter, Erin, for the first time. Erin and her family would have Thanksgiving dinner with her in-laws, but they always made the drive to Gail’s house for pie and coffee later in the evening.

  Her son’s laughter greeted her the moment she walked through the door, and it wasn’t a cartoon-inspired chuckle. It was a full belly laugh, which she rarely heard from him, so she peeked into the living room.

  The old leather recliner she knew had belonged to Gail’s husband had been turned sideways to support a blanket that was strung across to the couch, where a stack of hardcover books held the edge down. The cushions of the couch weren’t there, however, as they were currently in use as a wall for the fort. She really hoped Gail had given Nathaniel permission to wreck the living room.

  She walked over to the fort and bent down, trying to peek over the cushion wall. “Knock knock.”

  “No girls,” Will yelled from inside, and Nathaniel laughed again.

  Will had made a fort with her son. As if she wasn’t having enough trouble keeping her hormones in check. “Not even moms?”

  A paper airplane sailed through the gap between the blanket and the cushions. She picked it up and noticed crayon marks, so she unfolded the paper. No girls allowed. No exceptions. Then, in her son’s huge, jagged handwriting: No moms but I luv u.

  “Very funny,” she said. They must have written it ahead of time, anticipating her arrival.

  “Will’s reading me a story about dodo birds, but he keeps saying doo-doo birds,” Nathaniel called out to her, which explained the belly laughs. Seven-year-old boys were suckers for potty humor.

  “I’ll leave you to your doo-doo, then,” she said.

  “Your mom said doo-doo,” she heard Will say in a low voice, and then they both laughed.

  Shaking her head, she left them to their fort and went into the kitchen. Gail was standing at the sink, looking out the window as if she was a million miles away. Only when she got close did she see the tear tracks on the older woman’s face, which were jarring after the silliness in the living room.

  “Are you okay?”

  Gail started and gave a short laugh as she wiped her face with the dish towel. “Yes, honey. Missing my Bob, and hearing Will laughing with Nathaniel...you know. It’s Thanksgiving and I’m just a mess, I guess. I thought I’d be so busy I wouldn’t have time to be sad, but once the turkey’s in the oven, it’s just not that hard to make mashed potatoes.”

  “I’m sorry.” It shook her to see Gail sad. “If you and Will want to be alone, we can—”

  “No. I absolutely want you both here. You’re practically family and Nathaniel brings so much joy to my life. I was just having a moment, that’s all.”

  “What can I do to help?” She pushed up the sleeves of the sweater she was wearing, catching the hint Gail didn’t want to have a deep emotional talk right then.

  After looking around the kitchen, Gail shrugged. “Everything’s under control here. I’m just going to roll out some biscuits, which is a one-woman job.”

  “You have to let me help,” she protested.

  “Oh, trust me, you’ll help clean up,” Gail promised with a chuckle. “Go enjoy some time with your son, Christina. You’ve earned some silly time.”

  She wasn’t sure if Gail was just being polite or if she wanted some alone time, but Christina knew that tone and it meant Gail wouldn’t be swayed. Even though girls weren’t allowed to join in the fun, even moms, she went back into the living room. With the recliner and couch cushions in use, she sat in Gail’s rocker and leaned back.

  “She’s back,” she heard Nathaniel say in his version of a whisper.

  “Break time,” Will said. “I think my leg’s asleep.”

  A couch cushion lowered like a drawbridge and Nathaniel crawled out. Christina stood to get her hug, but he was hopping from foot to foot, so it was a quick one. As he took off for the bathroom, she watched Will dragging himself out of the fort.

  “I am officially too old to sit on the floor,” he grumbled.

  Christina laughed and held out her hand to help him to his feet. “It’s too bad there are no girls allowed. One might have brought you an ottoman and a drink.”

  “Maybe next time.”
He released her hand to rub at his hip. “I would have brought my creeper home from work if I’d known I’d spend this much time on the floor.”

  “Whose idea was this?” she asked, waving at the fort.

  “There was a commercial with a fort and I mentioned the time I used my mom’s best lamp to hold a corner of a blanket down—I’ll let you imagine how that ended—and Nathaniel said he’d never made a blanket fort in the living room.” He shrugged, a boyish grin playing around the corners of his mouth. “It just kind of happened.”

  Christina stared off in the direction Nathaniel had gone, horrified to feel tears welling up. Maybe Gail’s emotional moment had softened her, but it suddenly felt like the worst thing in the world that her seven-year-old boy had never built a blanket fort. Even if Robert wasn’t the kind of father to play with his child, she should have.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  She nodded, but she couldn’t force any words out. She was afraid if she tried, she might actually start sobbing instead of just furiously blinking tears away.

  When Will stepped close and held out his arms, Christina moved forward on instinct. His body was warm, probably from being in the fort with Nathaniel, and his arms were strong.

  It was just a hug, she told herself, wrapping her arms around his waist as he gave her a squeeze. She couldn’t remember the last time somebody had given her a hug and she relaxed into the comforting gesture. It was so nice to be held, even if it was only for a minute.

  “Mommy?”

  She heard the anxiety in Nathaniel’s voice and drew back from Will, wiping at her cheeks. “I’m okay, honey.”

  “She’s upset she can’t go in our super cool fort,” Will said. “You know how girls are.”

  Christina punched him in the arm, and he rubbed the spot. “I’ve never had a fort, either.”

  “Never?” Will’s eyebrows shot up.

  “I think we should let Mom in our fort,” Nathaniel said. “I don’t want her to be sad.”