Page 72 of Her Holiday Heartthrobs

Slowly, she turns to face him, blinking like she can magic him away.

Dark blue fabric cuts a fine figure—I mean, his figure is fine underneath it all, which helps. But more than that, he radiates power. Those icy blue eyes ready to freeze and shatter her with one blow.

And he does.

“You’re fired. Have your desk cleared by lunch and vacate the building.”

HENRY

I have no right to be this goddamn comfortable, leaned back on Patrick’s couch, nursing my fourth slice of pizza and second beer. Watching Baltimore versus San Francisco on the TV, it’s just the two of us.

Eli is at a business lunch with a group of investors and Jake has his end of quarter financials to finish.

I try not to lie too much to my friend, but not saying anything about Paige feels like lying. Either way, I’m screwed.

When there’s a time-out, Patrick knocks me in the shoulder. “Paige has been happy lately. I’m glad she’s such a good fit for you guys.”

My back jolts and a cold sweat materializes at the nape of my neck. “She was unhappy before?”

Patrick shrugs. “Well, you know, it’s rough getting a degree and raising a boy. They tend to be a lot harder when they’re young. My girls were docile compared to Paxton. You got to see him when he was sick, but that bugger is high energy all the time.”

I smile. I did know. Sledding with him was a four-person job and it still exhausted me thinking about the number of times I climbed that hill with him hanging off me.

“Paxton is three, right?” I’d been trying to figure out his birthday, but Paige is vague about it, and I haven’t found a way to bring it up to Patrick.

“Three and a half, in fact. Paige had him at the end of her first year—in May.”

A new wave of cold runs through me. The math I’d done puts me in the right window to be Paxton’s father. But she would have told me. Right?

Wouldn’t she have told Patrick? She waxes on about how cool he was, supportive during the pregnancy and after, helping her get through school.

“Yeah. She had a hell of a time, but she worked her ass off. You know my Paige. When she wants something, she takes it. Ain’t nothing that can stand in her way.” The pride on my friend’s face is heartwarming, but still, I’m unnerved.

I have to ask. “What about Paxton’s father?”

My heart stampedes in my chest.

Patrick sighs and takes a long pull from his beer. “I never did learn much about him. All she would tell me was that he was a one-night stand and she had no real way of letting him know.”

We both stare at the TV, Baltimore making a play and failing.

I rub my forehead, confused. Did Paige sleep with someone else close to when we did? Or did she think she couldn’t get a hold of me? Could she have—without telling her father?

And God, I avoided her after, thinking I was doing what was right by her.

Patrick knocks back the rest of his beer and silently asks me if I want another. I nod, finishing my own as he gets up to grab two more. When he drops back beside me, he’s got a frown.

“You know, I’ve always suspected she won’t tell me who because he broke her heart. She hasn’t dated at all. Never talks about it. She seemed lonely until she started working for you. I’m grateful for the favor. Glad she’s doing so well there.”

My gut double knots itself and I struggle to swallow my mouthful of beer. The bitter hops threatens to burn me on the way down. I cough past it.

“She’s a great team leader. Knows how to manage a project like she’s been doing it for years.”

“That’s my girl. Always was an old soul.”

Yeah. That’s one way of putting it. Maturity belying her age.

Patrick nudges my thigh with his beer bottle. “You look a little green around the gills. You alright?”

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