Page 35 of Maybe This Christmas
She fell into step next to him.“Sure.”
“And just for your information, I have it on good authority that no one has shown a peep of interest in that space since the other shop left.But it is the only open space of that size in town.Making it a prime location.”
She laughed.“Way to indulge my delusions, Caleb.”
“You say delusions.I say dreams.”He flashed her another grin as he fished his keys out of his jeans pocket.
Oh, she was in a world full of trouble.
Chapter Twelve
Caleb fiddled with the lock.The old thing was finnicky on a good day.The door creaked open, and he got a whiff of a familiar Christmassy scent.The room spray used at the lodge.He ducked his head in and found his apartment had been tidied by either Sabrina or his mother.Normally, he hated their interference, but just this once, he was glad for it.
He turned to Emma, finding a distant look in her eyes.He cleared his throat.“Um, I just realized that inviting you to my apartment might’ve come off weird.I hope I didn’t overstep.I really do just want my hat.”
Emma’s eyes snapped to focus.“Sorry?I was thinking about that shop.I don’t think it’s weird that you invited me up here.”
He cleared his throat.Well, maybe this feeling was one-sided, then.He could’ve sworn there was something between the two of them.Instead of dwelling on that, he pushed open the door.
“It’ll take me just a second to grab a hat.Provided my mom didn’t rearrange things the last time she was here.”
Emma stepped inside and looked around.
Late morning sunlight streamed in through the parted curtains.The left-hand side of the room was a brick wall, with windows stacked on top of each other.The drafts could be a real bitch this time of year.
The building was old, but his apartment had been redone by Ellis & Daughter as a rental property some years back.The style was all Sabrina’s.Slick subway tile in the kitchen, wooden butcher-block counters.She’d refinished the old floors.They looked nice, but still creaked every time he moved.
“Wow.This is such a nice space for a bachelor pad.”
He snorted as the front door swung shut on its own.Another lovely feature of living in a hundred-and-forty-year-old building.
“My kids live here every other weekend, so it’s not quite the bachelor pad you think.As you can see, there’s no closet, so all my things are in my room.I’ll be right back.”He headed down the hall.
“Don’t worry, I’ll have a nose around while you’re not watching,” she called after him.
He chuckled to himself.She was something else.
He rushed past his daughters’ half-open bedroom door.Peeking in, it was confirmed that it was his mother who’d been there.She’d left gifts on each of the girls’ beds.His mother and the other biddies fundraised every Christmas to wrap presents for town folks, so there was no missing her signature style, complete with ribbons and string galore.And the tags were signed with love from Mimi and Gramps.
He left the room before he could get too emotional about missing his kids.Funny how, since he’d started working at the lodge, the wound ached a little less.
Emma’s presence didn’t hurt, either.He half-wondered if she felt the same.Were they both working on healing a heartache?
He grabbed a hat out of his top drawer and walked back to the living room.There, he found Emma half-bent over, looking at photos atop the old wooden mantle.The fireplace hadn’t worked since the Reagan administration, but the old mantle did look nice, especially with his mother’s handmade stockings hanging with care.
Emma turned when he approached.“If I didn’t know better, I’d swear a woman lived here.”She spoke with a teasing tone, no malice.
“That woman is my mother.She gave my place a clean.She’s kind of a pain in the ass, but what are you going to do?She’s not the toxic, overbearing type, if you were worried.She respects my boundaries most of the time.”He realized what he’d said and began to stutter.“Uh, why would you be worried?Sorry, that was weird.Again.I’ve got to stop doing that.”
Emma rose to standing.“It’s not weird.”She arched an eyebrow before reaching for a photo of his girls.“Which one’s which?”
It took him a second to process that request as his brain whirled around like he’d just gotten off a carnival ride.Was she flirting with him?
He cleared his throat.“The older one is Emerson.She’s five.Poppy is two and a half.”
She touched the corner of the frame.“They’re freaking adorable.”
He tugged on his hat.“This is the longest I’ll ever have gone without seeing them.But my ex and I are a pretty good team.There are rough patches, of course.But that’s parenting.”
