Page 82 of Carpenter's Christmas Bride

“That’s nice, Kenzie,” Walt said, his eyes dreamy at the thought of the good food they were about to eat.

She suddenly felt a shiver of awareness go right through her. It wasn’t just that Aidan trusted her with Walt, it was the knowledge that she was good for Walt, that she was ready to take care of someone else’s needs, even if she’d had an unusual beginning to her own adulthood.

I’m going to be the step-mama of the most wonderful little boy in the world.

It might be hard tackling this new territory sometimes, but she was ready for the challenge.

Aidan arrived a little before midnight, cold and tired but looking really happy.

“Did you get them out?” Kenzie asked him quietly.

“Yes,” he told her. “Almost right away, thank goodness. But there were a couple of other accidents, so we all stayed with it until everything was wrapped up.”

“They’re lucky to have you,” she told him fondly. “You can tell me about it over supper. Are you ready for chicken soup with bread and butter?”

“That sounds amazing,” he groaned. “Okay if I wash up first?”

“Of course,” she told him.

She headed into the kitchen and ladled out a big bowl of soup for him and cut two thick slices of bread. She had left the butter dish on the counter, so the soft butter slathered on easily.

After placing his dinner on the table, she poured them each a glass of iced tea, and by the time she got back with it, he was coming in to join her.

“Was Walt okay going to bed?” he asked.

“He was great,” she told him. “He had his bath, and we read some of my old books, and he went right to sleep. I stayed in there until I was sure he was out, since he’s in a new space. And I left the door open so I would hear him if he had a nightmare.”

“You’re so amazing with him,” Aidan said, reaching across the table to squeeze her hand.

She gazed back at him, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world and wondering how she could possibly explain to him why she felt that way.

“This makes me smile,” he said, tapping her ring with his thumb.

“Walt and I were admiring it tonight,” she told him. “Hey, you were home when you got the call, but you brought him here instead of taking him to your aunt and uncle’s place.”

“Of course,” he said, nodding. “Was that okay?”

Tears threatened out of nowhere, and she bit her lip, trying not to cry.

“Kenzie, what’s wrong?” he asked.

“Do you remember what you said to me the first time we met?” she asked him, determined not to let the tears fall.

“I try very hard not to,” he said, shaking his head as if he were still furious with himself for yelling at her in the Co-op Grocer’s parking lot.

“You called me an overgrown child,” she said.

“And I’m really sorry about that,” he said. “In fairness, I hadn’t even laid eyes on you when I said it.”

“But here’s the thing,” she told him. “I felt like an overgrown child. I still do sometimes. I went right from high school to ballet school to a ballet company. I spent every minute of my days in a rehearsal hall or a theatre, and I never really lived a normal life.”

“You did something unique and special,” he told her. “Something that most people can only dream of.”

“That’s true,” she told him. “And I’m grateful for it. But I’m grateful for something else too.”

“What’s that?” he asked her.

“I’m grateful to you,” she said, “for showing me tonight that you trust me with the most precious thing in your world.”

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