Disappointed, she wondered why he’d stopped.
And she realized with dismay that she--the woman determined she was never going to get involved with a man again, who had made a perfect adjustment with her kids after her divorce and was not going to change their lives--was falling for this man. This handsome warrior.
It wasn’t just her kids falling under the spell of a famous author. She was doing it, too.
She was in big trouble.
Her first impulse was to flee, to let him handle his own family. But she couldn’t. She’d promised him she’d help. She was trapped by her own powers of persuasion and her feeling of responsibility. If she hadn’t convinced him to invite his family, she wouldn’t have to be over there entertaining them, tonight and tomorrow and the next day.
She wouldn’t go back on her word. But she could pull back emotionally. Physically. She took a step back shakily.
“Are you all right?” His own voice wasn’t so steady, either. So he hadn’t been as unaffected as he was trying to appear by that near kiss.
“I’m fine.” She forced a smile. She couldn’t get involved with Kyle Miller. She just couldn’t. What’s more, she wouldn’t.
As they carried the pies back across the lawn, her mind raced. It was seven now. She’d make her excuses in another thirty minutes, after the pies. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve with his family, then Christmas Day. Kyle’s family would be on their way back to their own homes by the twenty-sixth.
And by that same evening, she’d be back in her own home, safe and secure and single. Like a mantra, she repeated the words in her mind.
Safe and secure and single--oh, so safely single.
Chapter Ten
THE DAY AND NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS
Jared had known all along that it was...
With a sigh, Kyle stared at the screen in front of him. He hadn’t had a single thought of how to end this sentence--or the book. He’d never experienced such a crippling case of writer’s block before. Maybe he was a four-book wonder, and the fifth was never going to happen. In fifty years, people would be asking him, white-haired and hobbling along on his cane, when the next book would be done. And he might still not have an answer for them.
A door creaked behind him and he jumped in his seat. He’d been so deep in the scene that the interruption sent his heart racing. He looked up, frown in place, ready to tell the kids to go back out.
But when the door swung open and it was Lexi peeking inside his study, he struggled to keep his frown in place. “I’m working in here.”
“Don’t you need a ‘Famous Author Overworking’ sign or something?”
He leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the edge of the keyboard. He noticed she was keeping a lot of distance between them, ever since they’d nearly kissed last night. “Oh, like you’ve never overworked in your career. People who have television shows work normal hours, do they?”
“I put in a lot of hours. And I also know when to quit working and start playing.”
“Well, I don’t have time to play. I have a scene I must get done. And, when that one’s done, I have another one waiting to take its place. I don’t know when I’m going to get this book done.”
“You’ll get your book done. I know you will. You’ve completed all of the others, and you’ll complete this one, as well. But maybe if you play for a couple of days, you’ll be more creative afterward. I bet the words will just flow from you onto the paper.” Lexi smiled. “I just want to let you know that we’re outside having a blast, and you’re welcome to join us. I happen to know you excel at this particular activity.”
He sighed. “I’d really like to, Lexi. I would. It’s just that if I don’t get this book done by the deadline, I’m going to have a problem with my editor.”
Lexi shrugged her shoulders. “Okay. See you later.”
Just then, Lexi’s kids burst through the door.
“Are you ever coming out here?” Trista asked in an exasperated tone.
“Be right there, sweetie,” Lexi said, and turned back to him with another smile. “See you around. May I suggest that next time you don’t schedule your deadlines so close to Christmas.”
As if he had a choice over his deadlines.
She laughed and went outside with Steven, and shut the door behind her.
Trista remained behind, staring at his messy office. “So this is where you write about Jared, huh?”
“Yup.”
“Cool.”
She started to leave the room, but he called her back. “Would you answer a question?”
“Sure.”
“Does your mother always do such fancy dinner parties?”