Page 29 of Carpenter's Christmas Bride

Aidan frowned until he remembered the year Maddy had a birthday cake with a ballerina figure on it.

“Yes, just like that,” he said.

“You lifted her up,” Walt said. “You saved her from the puddle, just like Batman. Pow.”

“I guess so,” Aidan said. “I just didn’t want her cast to get wet.”

“She has good bars,” Walt went on. “Better than mine.”

Aidan did his best to keep healthy food in the house without too much sugar, since Walt was already bouncing off the walls most of the time. He was pretty sure those granola bars of Kenzie’s were just glorified cookies.

“Those are special Christmastime ones,” he told Walt carefully. “She must have found them someplace where we don’t usually shop.”

“We better ask her,” Walt said. “Then we can get more.”

“Okay,” Aidan told him. “You can ask her next time you see her.” And you’ll probably never see her again.

It was strange that the thought gave him a pang. Seeing her be so sweet with Walt was really nice.

But I can’t risk it.

He still couldn’t stop thinking about the way she’d felt in his arms—light as a feather, and yet her soft warmth and the fragrance of her hair had soaked into his chest so that he still felt her absence there now.

I almost kissed her.

The look on her face would haunt him for a long time. And that little sound of surprise she’d made… It was almost like she’d never been kissed before.

But of course that wasn’t possible. She was well into her twenties, and she’d been living in the city on her own. If the movies had it right, rich guys loved ballerinas. And she’d be back there soon enough, no doubt being taken out on the town by guys far more sophisticated than Aidan Webb.

“We’re here,” Walt murmured, his little face gazing out the window in wonder.

Aidan was always tickled at the way Walt responded to the old place. To Aidan, it was natural that it felt like home since he had grown up here. Walt, on the other hand, had only spent the odd holiday or weekend in the countryside.

But compared to their city apartment it was spacious, and the land around it was so much fun to explore—definitely the kind of place a little kid would love.

If only it didn’t need so much work.

It seemed like half of Aidan’s old friends had just bought houses in Trinity Falls with new roofs and heaters, thanks to Baz Radcliffe’s big project. Only Aidan still had to deal with a roof that was on its last legs and a boiler so old it looked like the steam engine on an antique train.

I’ll get there, he told himself.

It wasn’t the money. He had enough funds saved to replace the old boiler and probably the roof as well. It was more about the time. He knew how important it was to do things the right way. He wanted to be here to keep an eye on the roofers, and even if he didn’t know much about heating systems, he wanted to be around for it anyway. He’d heard too many horror stories.

“Can we do puzzles?” Walt asked, while Aidan unstrapped him.

“It’s too late for that tonight,” Aidan told him. “But we can still read one story.”

Walt was sleepy enough not to argue, and Aidan smiled as he carried the little one in on his shoulder.

They moved quickly through Walt’s nighttime routine, with none of the usual arguments about taking a bath or choosing pajamas. Aidan figured his little guy was worn out from an exciting day and a later night than usual.

Before he knew it, Aidan had Walt all tucked in and ready for a story. Aidan stood by the bookcase in his childhood bedroom, glancing through the titles for a good picture book to end the night with.

“How about Owl at Home?” he offered. They had that one back at the apartment too.

“No,” Walt said.

“Oh, wow, Father Fox’s Penny Rhymes,” Aidan said, smiling down at the battered paperback picture book. “You haven’t heard that one yet.”

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