Page 57 of Mistletoe Latte

God, he did not want to know. “Yes, she’s inside, alone, fighting off Sam’s conspiracy theories. So if you like her more than me, get going.”

“Come on,” she said to her friend, the two of them arm in arm. As she walked next to Nick, she bumped her shoulder into him and whispered, “You know your shirt’s inside out?”

He couldn’t react. He sure as hell couldn’t curse, then try to fix the problem. All Nick could do to not feed her ego was grunt and vaguely shrug. Even still, Skylar cackled like all her evil plans were coming true.

With the girls gone, he focused on the woman that saved his ass. “Thank you for bringing her. Keeping her overnight and bringing her. I’m sorry about…” He waved his phone as if that could get him out of breaking the guardian code. The next time Skylar had girls over, one was guaranteed to stay two to three hours late. Great.

“It was my pleasure. She’s a fantastic girl. You’ve done wonders with her given her father.”

Nick jerked at the unspoken threat that Skylar’s best friend’s mother knew what really happened with his brother. Even if he wanted to run back inside and get to work, he had to play nice. “It’s a challenge.”

“I know. I’ve only been raising Abby alone for the past few months and some nights…let’s just say they don’t make a wine glass deep enough.”

He put on a vague laugh and fell back to one of his rote talking-to-parents phrases. “Kids are a handful.”

She leaned closer and almost pressed her chest against his arm. “The days are long but the nights…they’re even longer.”

What in the hell is she going on about?Nick didn’t have time for this. “Tell you what, why don’t you get a drink from the cafe? On the house.”

Mrs. Wilkins beamed at him. “That sounds delightful.” Much like Abby and Skylar, she wound her arm around his. He blinked and, feeling like the mouse the fairy godmother turned into a footman, Nick led Mrs. Wilkins to the cafe. At the door, he tried to wiggle out by holding it open. She gave a hard squeeze of his biceps but had to let go to walk in.

From behind, Nick shouted, “Sky, get your friend’s mom whatever she wants.”

His niece turned away from her friend to give him the mile-long stare. He met it, and she gave in first, walking over to take the order. With all of that solved, Nick’s gaze broke through the crowd to find the one lighthouse in the storm. Emma’s smile was his northern star, brighter than anything in the sky and guiding him. She finished with the customer and looked over. For a moment, she bit her lip and blushed before her eyes opened wide, and she pointed at his collar.

Nick finally glanced down to find the shirt’s tag flopping out below his neck. No wonder. All he could do was shrug.

“I’m afraid the parent’s skating party had to be postponed due to the weather.”

The what?Nick stared at Mrs. Wilkins when it dawned on him. Oh right, the party to help get Skylar back into skating. “That’s too bad.”

“Hey.” His niece damn near ran across the cafe to poke him in the chest. “I’m leaving early.”

“Says who?”

“My hair appointment, remember?”

Jesus.If one more person asked him to remember something he was certain they never told him, Nick was gonna check himself for a concussion. “Yes, hair, dolled up, dance. Got it. What do you even need your hair done for? It looks fine.”

Skylar stared him dead in the eye, then rolled hers. With a beleaguered sigh, she skipped back to Emma and the two fell into dangerous chatter. Nick scratched at his shirt tag, reminding himself he needed to get to the back and fix that when Mrs. Wilkins leaned so close her blond hair swept over his shoulder.

“Home all alone, you must have something special planned.”

“Not really,” Nick said even as he put together that it’d be him and Emma in his house with no fear of innocent eyes catching them. Ideas floated in his mind of the two of them curled around each other before the fireplace. No, her perfect white ass propped up on the kitchen table before he took a spatula to it.

He was so far gone he barely heard Mrs. Wilkins whisper in his ear, “Well, I could think of a few things.”

“Sounds great,” Nick mumbled, his cock half-hard as Emma innocently licked whipped cream off her thumb.

CHAPTER TWENTY

“ALLOW ME…”

Emma paused in tugging her errant suitcase out of the backseat of the truck. Holding out his hand, Nick gazed at her with a sly smile.

“You don’t have to,” she said while slipping to the driveway. They’d had a long day. Emma’s feet and legs ached from racing to keep up with the requests for donuts. But once the lights were off and the chairs stacked, she’d sat beside him and all the pain faded away.

Nick managed to lift her heavy luggage with one arm and drape his other over her shoulder. “But I want to,” he said.

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