CHAPTER THREE

John

No, I’m not sure about my offer to drive Abby—make that Ms. Sinclair. Not when I’m struggling to remember my own name and why I want to help her, but what choice do I have now?

Telling her I changed my mind and she’s on her own would be the smartest move, but then I’d feel like a jerk and look like a fool. Who cares how much I like her as long as no one finds out? Helping her is the right thing to do.

Ugh . The twelve-year-old boy is back, and that stings more than a paper cut.

I mean, here I am, desperate to be the hero—her hero, if I’m being honest—but giving her a ride might end up being a terrible idea. If she finds out how I feel…

Would that be worse than her being stuck in the parking lot and freezing on Christmas Eve?

N-O.

Forget about being on Santa’s nice list with this messy, tangled-up emotion gnawing at me. If that list were real, my stocking would be filled with coal. This shouldn’t even be a question, yet I realize Abby is waiting for me to answer.

“It’s no bother.” I suppress the urge to assure her I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t want to. Not going to lie, those words sit on the tip of my tongue. “What kind of boss would I be if I left you stranded in a snowstorm on Christmas Eve?”

See? No problem. I’m just her boss, doing what bosses do.

Her shoulders drop slightly. “Thanks. I really appreciate it. I don’t want to be stranded here. Just give me a minute to get my stuff.”

“Want help?”

“No, thanks.” Her words shoot out like snowballs during a fight at my grandparents’ house. “I’ve got it.”

“I’ll warm up my car.”

As I get into my SUV and turn on the ignition, she gathers her things from the back seat of her car and carries them to mine.

She opens the rear door behind the passenger seat. “It’ll take me another trip to get everything, but I don’t want Powerfluff to get too cold.”

That’s when I notice her loading the cat crate onto my leather seats. “Powerfluff seems to have recovered from her Christmas tree excursion.”

“Yes, and I’m sorry about that. I’ve never brought her to work before, but I couldn’t leave her behind in my freezing-cold apartment or out in the car. I cleaned up everything in the lobby, and I promise she didn’t make a mess in my office.”

The cat stares at me as if I’m a peon, and she’s a queen. Having a name like Powerfluff no doubt affects the power dynamics between the cat and Abby. “Do you need help with your other things?”

“Nope.” She hurries to her hatchback and pulls out a small suitcase and a bag of presents. By the time she’s back at my car, her cheeks and her nose are pink and her shoulders are covered in snow. “This is all I have.”

“Get in before you catch a cold.” My voice comes out harsher than I intended, but I worry about her getting too wet.

Abby brushes her shoulders off and kicks her feet against the front tires before climbing in, which I appreciate and didn’t expect, since snow is just water, but I want her inside where she can warm up.

“Oh, wow.” She touches the seat. “It’s heated.”

“Comes in handy on days like this.” I try to sound like heated seats are no big deal, but I’m grateful the salesperson talked me into the upgrade now. With all-wheel drive, the vehicle should be fine in these road conditions, too.

She gives me her parents’ address. As I pull out of the parking lot, I glance in the rearview mirror and see Abby’s car sitting amid tire tracks in the snow. “What about your car?”

“I’m calling a tow truck.” She’s on her phone before I can say I’ll take care of it for her, but then I remind myself it’s her car and I’m just her boss. Those last three words need to be my mantra for the drive.

Who am I kidding? The rest of my life or however long she works for me, which I hope is a long time since I’d miss seeing her every weekday in the office, would be ideal. Yes, she’s under my skin and has been since July.

The reason?

Yes, she’s beautiful, and her looks caught my eye first, but the real reasons I fell for her were her smile and her laugh when I made a joke not even a dad would make. Her reaction was so…genuine. The way her eyes lit up shifted something in my chest. A ball of warmth exploded right then and spread through me. I feel that way every time I look at her.

Which I’m not doing now.

Eyes on the road .

Grandma would be proud of me.

Abby speaks to whomever is on the opposite end of the line, stopping mid-sentence more times than I’d like. “I can’t stay with the car. It’s snowing. No, I understand you have rules, but what am I supposed to do? Great.”

Her tone tells me whatever she’s supposed to do about her car is the opposite of great. I grip the leather-covered steering wheel, reminding myself I shouldn’t get involved. Even though I want to. I really, really want to.

“Fine, goodbye.” She disconnects from the call and drops her phone onto her lap. “Bah-humbug. I pay for roadside assistance, but if you abandon your vehicle, they won’t tow you. Not that a tow truck is available for at least three hours, and in this weather, I’d freeze.”

“Leave your car in the parking lot and deal with it when you’re back.” The words stream out before I can stop them. “No one will touch the car, especially in this weather.”

“You’re right.” She half laughs. “On the off chance my car ends up being towed, that’s one less thing I have to deal with when I’m back.”

“Looking at the bright side of things.”

“At least for the next hour and a half.”

I hope her cryptic remark means she’s happy to spend time with me outside of the office. Okay, that’s the last thing I should want because I know how badly this could end. As I consider what to say, she yawns.

I remember that her electricity went off in the middle of the night. I wonder if she slept much. Most likely not, which means I know what to ask next.

“Tired?” I ask.

“A little, but I’m okay.” Another yawn.

Not okay.

Exhausted.

“Why don’t you take a nap?” If she sleeps, I’ll have fewer opportunities to stick my size-thirteen foot into my mouth. “That way, I can concentrate on driving during this snowstorm, and after you’ve gotten some rest, we can better interrogate each other.”

I try to make it sound like I’m joking about the last part, but I’m completely serious. I want to know everything about how she’s spending the holidays, including if a boyfriend is meeting her there. This might be my only chance to find out anything about her personal life, so I might as well take it.

As she falls asleep, her head rests against the window, leaving me with a nice view of her beautiful profile. I focus on the snowy road, stealing glances at her. I love how her lips curl into a tiny smile every now and then as if she’s sharing secrets with Santa Claus. I know better than to think she’s dreaming of me. I’m not that delusional.

As I drive, I envision myself as her knight in a glistening sleigh instead of my snow-laden SUV, valiantly steering our trusty vehicle through a winter wonderland. I nearly laugh at how I’m awkwardly trying to play it cool while sneaking peeks at her. Each time I do, I can’t help but picture us drinking mugs of hot chocolate overflowing with marshmallows and getting tangled up in Christmas lights as we decorate a little tree that leans to one side.

A snow drift juts into the road, jolting me back to reality. I need to stop daydreaming and concentrate on driving so we arrive at her parents’ house in one piece.

An hour later, something rustles in the passenger seat, and I shift my gaze briefly. She stirs, stretching her arms overhead and blinking her eyes open. “Did I fall asleep?”

“Yes, you did.”

She squints out the window, her breath frosting the glass. “How long have we been driving? Are we still on the same planet?”

A reasonable question, considering that the snowstorm looks like a giant jar of marshmallow fluff decided to cover everything.

“Last I checked, we’re enroute to your parents’ house,” I assure her. “But judging by this raging storm, we might end up at the North Pole.”

She straightens. “If we’re going to the North Pole, does that mean Powerfluff can be Santa’s new helper?”

Through the rearview mirror, I see the gray cat lounging, no doubt plotting how to steal cookies from Santa. “Absolutely. I bet they even have cat-sized elf suits.”

“I hope they wear protective gear when they try to put it on Powerfluff.” Abby’s laughter is a sweet sound against the swirling snow and wind.

“Where are you spending the holidays?” she asks.

“At my grandparents’ house, but not until tomorrow.”

Her nose crinkles. “But it’s Christmas Eve.”

“We don’t celebrate until Christmas Day.”

“That’s…different.”

“My grandmother doesn’t think so.” I don’t want to talk about my family situation, especially since she works with me. I want to know more about hers, though. “Are you excited to see your family?”

“The only thing I’m excited about is the next two days passing as quickly as possible.” She sucks in a breath and covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh, no. Did I say that aloud?”

“I can pretend I didn’t hear it.” But, man, do I have some questions.

“No take-backs.”

Never heard that one in this kind of scenario. “Is that a rule?”

“Once you say something, it’s out there. You can pretend you didn’t hear it, but can you honestly say you’ve unheard it?”

I consider her words. Interesting, but she’s right. “I can’t.”

“Thank you for being honest.”

“So, why do you want the holiday to go by quickly?”

Her lighthearted smile falters enough for me to catch the shift in her expression. “Family drama.” She maintains an upbeat tone, but I sense an undercurrent of something deeper in those two words.

I want to press, but I’m not sure this is the time. “Well, the only drama in this car is the weather, and that’s outside.”

“Don’t forget Powerfluff if she wakes up.”

“Right.” I glance in the rearview mirror to see that the cat is sleeping. “Just enjoy the ride, and don’t worry about what’s coming up.”

“I’ll try.”

We continue our drive in companionable silence, the snow sweeping along the windows like ghostly brushstrokes. I don’t regret offering to help Abby, and I want to laugh about being so dramatic about how this drive could go wrong.

She points on her side of the street. “My parents’ house is right there.”

Twinkling lights illuminate the porch of a two-story house that appears to be typical of the other houses in the neighborhood, with tall trees and sidewalks that will need shoveling in the morning. Smoke rises from the chimney.

I turn the car off, ignoring the pounding of my heart. I wish her parents lived farther away so our drive would’ve lasted longer. “We made it. In one piece.”

“Yeah.” I spot a hint of regret flickering beneath her smile.

“Do you want to…” The moment stretches between us, thick with unsaid words.

She shifts in her seat, gathering her belongings in the back seat. “I should get going.”

“Wait,” I blurt, surprising even myself. “I’ll help you carry in your things so you only have to make one trip.”

Her eyes widen slightly.

“I don’t mind,” I add as if I need to convince her.

Abby smiles at me. Her smiling at me is all I’ve wanted for Christmas. Maybe my good deed really did put me on Santa’s nice list.

“That would be great.” Her smile doesn’t dim. “Thanks.”

Out of the car, I shiver. The temperature seems to have dropped since we left the office. I grab her suitcase with one hand and hold Powerfluff’s crate with the other. Abby carries the bag of presents and a tote bag, and then her face dims. That isn’t the reaction I expected.

“Thanks again for the ride, Mr. Barrington,” she says as we reach the porch, and I narrowly avoid the decorative snowflakes dangling above us. “It means more than you know.”

I want to tell her to call me John, but that would be…wrong. “You’re welcome. I hope…”

The front door swings open. A woman with frosted hair wipes her hands on the front of her apron. “Abby, you’re here, and you brought someone with you. What a surprise. Come in out of the cold. I have just the thing to warm you both up.”

“You can come in if you want,” Abby whispers. “It’s cold out here.”

Why not? The least I can do is carry her things all the way inside. I follow her into the entryway, where cinnamon scents the air and Christmas music plays.

“Ed, come on,” the woman yells. “Abby is home, and she brought her boyfriend.”

Boyfriend?

I glance at Abby, who has a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression, one that most likely matches mine. What have we just walked into?