Page 20 of One Small Secret

I don’t think I would have the heart to throw away his crib. I would become this weird single lady with no children who keeps a crib in her room. Like I’m not weird enough already.

Plus, I don’t mind cuddling him back to sleep any time he wakes up. We both get more sleep that way. I don’t care what the books say. I’m the temporary mama—I can spoil him a bit if I want to. I scoop him up and his arms reach above his head in a stretch. He makes a squawking sound that lands somewhere between kitten and creaky door. It’s officially the cutest sound on the planet.

How could Moira have left him? No TV spot could be worth missing your son’s first Christmas or the noises Axley makes. What if he outgrows them before she gets back?

I pull Axley close to me and carry him back to the living room.

Ruben is standing by the door, holding Axley’s coat by the sleeves like a formal butler.

Or maybe a dad.

I’m going with butler.

I slip Axley into his coat which leaves him practically in Ruben’s arms. I almost reach for him, but then stop. “Can you hold him for a second? I’m just going to grab him an applesauce for the road.”

“Sure.”

I pull my hands away and Ruben is left holding Axley far from his body, Axley’s arms and legs dangling in the air. Ruben looks a little lost, but then turns Axley to face him and tucks him into the crook of his arm. Axley is only half awake, and despite the fact that he’s only seen Ruben once, he snuggles into Ruben’s coat.

Dang you, Axley. How’d you manage that so easily?

I turn away and dash into the kitchen, because being jealous of a toddler is dumb and thinking about Ruben Palmer like that is even dumber. I grab some food, only berating my fickle female heart twice, and then return. “Okay, I’ll take him.”

Ruben’s cheeks are puffed out, making a face at Axley, and Axley is grabbing his nose. He looks up at me, lets the air escape slowly, and shrugs. “I don’t mind carrying him. Are we taking the stroller or your car? I would offer to drive, but I don’t have a minivan with a car seat yet.”

Like so many other things, Ruben holding Axley feels wrong, like I shouldn’t let Ruben get attached. It’s bad enough that I’ve totally fallen for Axley. He'll always be my nephew, but who knows how often I’ll see him after Moira returns?

I shake my head. “That’s alright, I’ll take him.” Ruben’s face falls, but he hands him to me. “You grab the stroller. The gas station isn’t far, and I don’t have a car yet.”

Almost no one is out on the street this Christmas Eve, but at least this time the sidewalk has been shoveled. A light dusting of snow is lazily making its way down the horizon. It glistens in cones of light under each lamppost. We’ve stepped into the Rosco version of a snow globe. Maybe this whole freezing cold thing isn’t so bad after all. Not if it gives me a Christmas Eve like this. Ruben’s hands weave between mine on the stroller, even though I can totally manage to push it now that there aren’t several inches of fresh snow on the walk. I let him. Making out on my sofa? Bad idea. Being pressed up against him while we push a stroller? Totally. We’re a block away from the apartment when I realize I’ve been an idiot. Everyone in town knows who Ruben is, and he shouldn’t be seen walking with me and Axley, especially not on Christmas Eve. I glance around, but no one’s nearby.

“What’s wrong?” Ruben asks.

“Someone’s going to see us.” I push him away from the stroller with my hip. “Stand a little farther away from me.”

Ruben puts a hand to his heart and feigns hurt. “You don’t want to be seen with me?” He frowns, then pulls his wool hat so low it covers half of his eyes, hunches his shoulders and twists his left foot, dragging it behind him. “Luckily,” he says, his voice raspy, “I’ve got the perfect disguise. No one will think twice about us now, young lady. Your reputation is safe.”

I think he’s going for decrepit old man, but somehow he still manages to look more like a sexy pirate. The man can’t look bad even when he’s trying. I laugh and push him with my hip again. If anyone sets foot on this street, they will one thousand percent notice us. “Yes, I am the one that doesn’t want my reputation tarnished.” But then I freeze. Ruben straightens, immediately noticing my distress. Crap. “Actually, I don’t want Axley to be seen with you.”

He furrows his brows. “Are you worried about pictures of him? I know most of the people who take my pictures. We have a pretty good understanding in place. I’ll make sure they know not to post anything about him.”

“What do you mean, you know them?”

He shrugs. “I’m in a unique position. Most celebrities don’t want to be in the tabloids, but I’ve been the face of Palmers for years, and every time there's an exciting news article about me, bookings at our resorts go up. So…”

“You tell them where you're going to be.”

“Often enough that they don’t have to follow me around when I’m in Rosco. Have you ever seen paparazzi here?”

Come to think of it, no. I glance at him sideways. A lamplight from across the street is directly behind him and the glitter of snow backlights his profile like he's in a moody photoshoot. Can’t he ever look average, for once? He’s basically glittering like Edward Cullen. “Let’s say I believe this weird deal you have going on actually works. What about Mrs. Kramer? Or Geraldine Forrester?” I stop pushing the stroller and my eyes go wide. “What about your grandfather? We would never hear the end of it if he saw us like this together.”

Ruben puts his hands back where they were on the stroller. “I think I can handle our old debate teacher and the town drunk.”

A laugh burst from my throat and I hit him in the arm. “Mrs. Forrester is not a drunk.”

“Why do you think she yells at people all the time?”

I push my lips to one side. He might have a point. “Okay then, what about Ben?”

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