Page 24 of All I Want For Christmas Is You

You hear me, Margot Rhodes?

You’ve just come out of the most godawful season of your life.

Don’t get in any deeper or it’s going to hurt.

Beau finished his work, dropped the wrench in the toolbox, and washed his hands. When Aunt Lucy thanked him and then launched into the history of the Moravians in North Carolina, he listened as though she were telling him the results of his DNA ancestry test.

He’s not even from here, and he cares.

He was such a good man. So genuine and kindhearted. And God, to be with someone like that? She wanted it. Needed it. That hug he’d given her in the hallway should’ve been awkward and uncomfortable. She hardly knew him, after all.

But it hadn’t. It was like the shape of him had been built especially for her. She’d felt so safe, so seen, that all the loneliness had bubbled over, and she’d cried like a baby.

“Lucy?” someone called, and her aunt dashed off to see what they needed.

Beau came back to her side. “Sorry about that. What can I do to help?”

“Don’t be sorry. You fixed something. Everyone loves a handyman.”

“It’s the engineer in me. I like to figure out how things work.” He gave a chin nod to the ingredients. “Can I make a batch?”

“Of course.” She slid the measuring cup toward him. “I’ve only just started with the mise en place.”

“The what now?”

She smiled. “It’s when you measure out all the ingredients in advance.” And see? Just like that, she’d stopped shaking, and she was comfortable with him again.

“Ah. Okay.”

“You’re going to dump all of these”—she gestured to the brown sugar, butter, and molasses—“in here.” She lifted the pot. “And warm it until the sugar dissolves.”

He did as she’d instructed and turned on the heat.

“You said you’ve made cookies before, and I know you don’t have a sweet tooth, so that must’ve been for your kids?”

“Oh, you know that, do you?” He picked up the wooden spoon and stirred.

“Yep, Mr. Steak And Potatoes Man. You’re the kind of monster who would’ve walked out of the restaurant two days before Christmas without ordering dessert.” She shuddered.

“What does Christmas have to do with it?”

“Unless you’re gifted with a magic metabolism, we all look for excuses to indulge. You get a vaccination? Grab a milkshake. You got an A on your essay? Awesome! Here’s a slice of cake to celebrate.”

“But it wasn’t Christmas yet.” He looked genuinely confounded.

“We pull the celebration card starting December first.” Her tone said, Don’t you know that?

“So, twenty-five days of indulging?”

“Of course not.” She shook her head as though she couldn’t believe he’d just said that. “New Year’s is only seven days later. It’s thirty-two days of celebrating.”

When he grinned like that, dimples popped out on either side of his mouth. “There’s a whole secret world of information I knew nothing about.” It turned him from handsome to devastating.

Oh, Lord. She did not need him pulling that one out of his Ways To Make Margot Swoon arsenal. “Which explains the extra junk in my trunk.” She patted her bottom. “We all have choices to make…” She popped a cookie into her mouth and chewed. “And this one’s mine.”

For the entire time he had his attention fixed on her ass, she wondered what he was thinking. This man revealed very little, but she couldn’t miss the fire burning deep within his eyes.

“There isn’t a man alive who’d question your choices.”

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