“I’m going to get rid of her,” Steven said with a determined look.
“Now, Steven, you behave.”
He smiled up angelically at his mother. “Now, Mom, I will. I’m going to behave just like a boy.”
And he raced around the yard making loud noises, in circles around Kyle and the intruder.
Lexi rolled her eyes.
Trista kept a look out. It was only a few minutes later when she smiled. “She’s leaving.”
As just a decorator and a blackmailer, Lexi shouldn’t feel quite so relieved at that news.
Chapter Eight
TWO DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS
The kids raced into Kyle’s kitchen and Steven called out, “Someone’s here.”
“It’s a fancy car,” Trista said with a grimace. “A big green ugly one.”
“Be sure and point that out to the owners,” Lexi said.
“Mom. I’m not going to tell them,” Trista answered in her you’re-so-stupid voice.
“Thank goodness for that.” Lexi wiped her floury hands on her apron. “Okay. I guess that means we’re on.”
Untying her apron and laying it on the counter, she surveyed Kyle’s kitchen. There was enough food here to feed twenty people. She’d start by welcoming the newcomers with cookies. Kyle’s house and yard looked fantastic now. He had spent a good part of the day yesterday helping her and, though he kept saying how worried he was about getting his book out on deadline, he had worked for hours beside her. It had been a wonderful day.
And this morning he’d found a seat in the row behind hers in church. He’d shown her where George’s Sunday School class met, introducing her to people and, when class started, sitting beside her. And, despite what he’d said, he didn’t sleep at all. And, despite what George had said, Kyle knew quite a few answers.
Kyle had told her his married brother would arrive today with his family, with his other brother and father coming later. They’d all be here for dinner at six. And she planned to have a feast ready for them. “Trista, grab that platter of cookies, will you?”
Very carefully, her daughter picked it up.
Taking a deep breath, Lexi smiled. She was more worried about these people liking what she’d done than she was with her television audience. “Okay.”
Steven looked worried. “What if they don’t like gingerbread cookies and chocolate chip cookies?”
“Everybody likes cookies,” Lexi said, hoping she was right.
Nervously, she peeked out the window. What Trista thought of as an ugly green car was a large Mercedes, now parked in Kyle’s driveway, beside the newly installed sleigh and reindeer. Her eyes moved to the previously mutilated and beautifully rebuilt snowman who had introduced her to Kyle Miller, the famous author. She couldn’t resist a smile when she thought about Kyle. That first impression had been a killer--a snowman killer, to be exact.
She couldn’t believe how nervous she was. This was just a good deed she was doing, in exchange for Kyle making an appearance at her son’s birthday party. Helping a lost man and his family find the Christmas spirit again.
If she kept that in mind, she hoped she wouldn’t be nervous.
So far, it wasn’t working.
When a knock sounded on the door, she wiped her free hand on her slacks.
“Mom, chill out,” Trista whispered.
“Okay.” Lexi pulled the door open, and a handsome man who looked remarkably like Kyle stood there, holding what looked like a package of food. A pretty, petite, dark-haired woman, also holding food, and two children about the same ages as Trista and Steven stood beside him.
“You must be Kyle’s brother.”
His eyes lit up. “Guilty. Keefe Miller.” He stuck out his free hand and lifted his eyebrow in question.
She could feel herself blushing at what he was obviously thinking. Pull yourself together, girl. “I live next door and I’m helping your brother with the party. I baked some cookies to welcome you and your family for Christmas.” She placed the platter on the entryway table. “I’m Lexi Anderson. These are my children, Trista and Steven.”
She looked up at the sprig of mistletoe Kyle had apparently added after she’d left.
Keefe followed her gaze. “Not too subtle, is he?” He stepped inside. “Why does that name sound so familiar?”
“My mom does the Alexis Anderson show,” Trista offered.
The woman raised an eyebrow in surprise. “You’re Alexis Anderson? That’s great.”
Keefe laughed. “Then I guess we won’t be needing this food. We thought he was joking. Ms. Anderson, this is my wife, Alyssa. And my children, Justin and Jill.”