Page 24 of Architect's Christmas Nanny

“Hey, Caroline,” he said. “Josie sent me over with the box she wants to donate to the Winter Wonderland book sale. Mom said we should let you have first pick for the library.”

“Why didn’t you just bring them over to the house?” she asked.

“I didn’t really want you to have to carry them,” Brad chuckled, pointing to the big box at his feet.

“Goodness, that’s a lot of books,” Caroline said, her eyes sparkling with pleasure.

“Why don’t I bring them up to your office?” Brad offered. “You can go through them when you have time, and just call me when you’ve got what you want, and I’ll pick them up again.”

“You’re a true friend to the library,” Caroline said, gesturing for him to come on up.

He headed up the steps to the children’s section and into Caroline’s small office, depositing the box on her desk.

“Is that taking up too much space in here?” he asked her.

“Not for long,” she told him. “Thank you again for this. The kids always love new titles, so I appreciate getting first look.”

“It’s my pleasure,” he told her. “I’d better get back to my girls.”

She gave him an odd expression and he realized belatedly that he had referred to Jillian ashis.

“It’s so lovely that she came out to celebrateChristmas with all of us,” Caroline said before he could fall all over himself to explain the slip of the tongue. “I wish she didn’t have to move on to another family.”

Maybe it was her kind eyes, but Brad couldn’t seem to keep up the facade with his little sister-in-law.

“Me too,” he admitted sadly.

“I’ll pray for a Christmas miracle,” Caroline decided with a smile.

“Thanks,” Brad said, choosing not to say out loud that it would certainly take one for Jillian to stay in their lives.

By the timehe made it back to the cottage, the upstairs lights were off, which probably meant that Jillian had gone to bed too.

He felt a twinge that he’d lost another night of seeing her curled up on her chair with a book. But when he came in, he could hear her singing “The First Noel” along with the radio while she ran water in the kitchen.

“Goodness, Brad,” she gasped when he stepped into the kitchen to join her. “You startled me. Want some tea?”

“Sure,” he said. “Sorry about that. I was just enjoying the concert.”

“I was in church choir as a child,” Jillian said, smiling and shaking her head. “This time of year, we sang so much that I do it without even thinking about it sometimes.”

“It’s nice,” Brad told her. “Makes the house feel like a home.”

She didn’t respond, but her lips curved up in a privatesmile as she placed the kettle on the stove. He tried to hide a smile of his own as he brushed past her to pull down two chipped mugs from the upper cabinet that he knew was too high for her to easily reach.

“Thank you,” she said. “What kind would you like? I think we have peppermint and chai, and maybe English breakfast too.”

“Chai for me,” he said, grabbing the box, and the peppermint box too, since he knew it was her favorite.

They readied their mugs quietly, nothing but the clinking of spoons and the sound of the water bubbling to interrupt the friendly silence.

Maybe it was just being in the new and smaller space, but something about their evening routine felt more intimate to Brad tonight, as if each movement was bringing them closer together, pulling taut a thread between them he had never noticed was there before.

This wasn’t just an attraction, though the way her hair cascaded between her shoulder blades made him use every bit of his willpower to keep from reaching out and touching it. This was something deeper, something more.

The kettle whistled and Jillian jumped to pour the water into their mugs, as if she too had sensed the tension and wanted to relieve it somehow.

He watched as she carefully filled each one and placed the kettle back on the stove.

---