Page 15 of Sexy Claus

Her pretty mouth twitched, a sure sign she was holding in a laugh at his mostly true argument. “Fine.”

He enjoyed the view while she retrieved her purse and the carryout box of leftovers from the other side of the center console. Her reasons for skipping town didn’t matter to his reawakening hormones.

She was here.

He was here.

Picking up where they’d left off didn’t seem like a bad idea. In fact, it sounded better with each passing moment.

“It’s locked up, not that anybody can steal my car very easily. Let’s go before I change my mind.” She walked ahead of him to his pickup and used the running board to claim the seat behind Brenna.

He caught the tail end of her explanation as he slid behind the steering wheel.

His daughter groaned. “That stinks. It’s a good thing we were still here. I bet my dad knows the best garage to have it towed to.”

Christy’s noncommittal hum said she may or may not want or heed his advice.

“So, Dad, would you mind dropping me off first? I got a text from work about a last-minute change to the design my boss is presenting tomorrow morning. I need to send the updated version to her ASAP.”

He shifted into gear and swiveled to look out the back window, hoping for a glimpse of their guest’s reaction. “As long as Ms. Rime isn’t in a hurry.”

Christy rolled her eyes so hard they should’ve landed on the floor. “Not a problem.”

But calling you Ms. Rime instead of Christy is.

She’d started their game of pretend by calling him Mr. Carlsen. Did she expect him to behave like he knew her and blow their cover?

He flipped on his turn signal to exit the parking lot, caught between what he wanted and what was wise. “Work, it is then, Bee.”

“Thanks, Christy. I really appreciate it.” His daughter tapped on the screen of her phone, probably informing her boss to expect an email shortly. Her barely audible sigh set off his protective-father radar. “I think I’ll go to bed after I’m done. My back’s a little tight from the therapy session. I’m not usedto the twisting and lifting I did today. Different movement and different muscles.”

Christy leaned forward. “Be sure to do the stretches we talked about. They’ll help reduce the risk of soreness in your lower back until you get in the habit of prep work and cooking from your chair.”

The concern and compassion in her voice tipped the scales a little farther from wisdom, but he didn’t dare use his tendency to hover over Brenna to offset stupidity. She hated when he bulldozed his way into her independence. “Do you have any pain pills left? Just in case.”

“It doesn’t hurt that much.” She slipped her phone into her purse and leaned against the headrest. “It’s just a twinge, Dad. Pinky promise.”

A shot of warmth spread through his chest from the saying she’d made up because preschooler-Brenna had insisted she wasn’t allowed to swear. The occasional curse word had snuck out of his mouth, earning him a reproachful glare from his little girl.

Silence descended during the short drive to the house he’d bought for them when she was six. The good memories had been drowned out by the strain of her accident this year, but they were finally starting to resurface after the interminable hiatus.

He parked in the driveway and left the engine running as he repeated the motions that gave her the freedom to go places and do things again. By the time she let herself in the house and he climbed back in the driver’s side, Christy had moved to the front passenger seat.

Clearing his throat, he sorted through the mish-mash of thoughts and headed along the familiar route to the house she’d grown up in. “She was struggling to make progress before you stopped to help her last week. And now… You have no idea how much it means to her. To me.”

“I think I might. It’s why I love what I do.” She didn’t look his direction, but her reflection in the window next to her didn’t give even a hint of what was going on in her head. She hadn’t always been so closed up to him.

“Well, you’re very good at it.” As much as he’d like to ask her to stay in Creekside for his daughter’s sake, he wasn’t that much of a masochist. Being near her made him remember how good they’d been together and for each other.

And I still feel something for her, even after she went away without telling me why.

His grief and disappointment had faded somewhat during dinner, slowly being replaced by hope for a chance to rekindle their relationship. Was he an idiot for thinking it was possible?

Too soon, the half-mile drive ended at the darkest spot on the street. No light illuminated the front porch and no window glowed from within.

He shut off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.” Despite her frequent use of the word, she didn’t seem fine to him. She was tense and standoffish and too willing to depend only on herself.