“I was thinking about New York while we were driving,” he admitted.
She waited for what he had to say.
“You can stay with me if you decide to decorate Robin’s home. Are you considering it?”
She nodded, her mind going back to the feeling of waking up beside him.
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said with a smile. “I’ll see you back at the house.” Without warning, he leaned down and kissed her lips. “Bye, Abbey.” He jogged around to his side of the car and got in.
With a ridiculous grin, she went in to get Max in her five-thousand-dollar outfit.
Max was holding his craft stick birdhouse and an envelope with holly he’d colored all over the outside. “What’s that?” Abbey pointed to the sealed envelope. She loved hearing about the things he’d made at school.
“It’s a secret,” he said, his face animated.
“So you can’t tell me?”
He shook his head. “It has my secret Christmas wish in it.”
“Oh!” Abbey was itching to know what Max’s secret Christmas wish was. This was supposed to be his big Christmas, the one to top all others. It would be wonderful if she could make that secret wish come true. What else did Max want? “Will you ever tell it to me?” she asked.
“I have to wait and see if I get it for Christmas first. Then, after Christmas, I’ll tell it to you.”
“Deal,” she said, thinking of ways to steam open the envelope.
Max hugged it to his chest as he walked to the car. The snow was starting to melt, making the curbside drain sound like a waterfall from all the melting ice. Max climbed into his booster seat and fastened his seatbelt.
“I’m so glad Nick came to my school today,” he said as they drove home.
“I’m glad too. You know he flew back from Chicago just for you! He took a very late flight so he could get to school like he’d said he would.”
“I like him so much.”
She smiled. “Me too.” She looked at Max in her rearview mirror and she thought how lucky she was to have had Nick there today. He’d made Max a happy boy.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was early. Max was still sound asleep in the bed and Abbey’s stomach was growling. Slowly, she climbed out from under the covers and padded over to get her robe and slippers, then left the room to get something to eat. The house was eerily quiet as she made her way down the stairs. They were solid, not a creak at all.
The sun wasn’t even up yet, the stars shining through the great ballroom windows as she passed by them. The sconces on the wall were lit like nightlights. They led the way down the enormous hallway to the kitchen.
She entered the room and nearly jumped with fright. Nick was sitting on one of the barstools, the morning paper in his hands. He set it down and looked over at her. His eyes went from her hair down to her slippered feet, interest showing on his face.
“Good morning,” he said, a small smile playing at his lips. His eyes were unstill, and she wondered what he must think of her. Had she known anyone would be up, she’d have at least dragged a comb through her hair.
“Good morning,” she returned. Nick was already dressed, shaved, and perfectly handsome as always. “Do you just wake up like that?” she teased, trying to make light of her own appearance.
Nick looked down at his clothes. He allowed a smile. “Do you just wake up like that?” he teased back.
She laughed quietly so as not to wake anyone else. “I was just coming down to find something to eat. I’m starving.”
“The chef won’t be here until seven. Let me cook you something.”
“No. You don’t have to do that. I’ll find something. Have you eaten? Let me cook for you! I make a mean omelet.”
He smiled again, his eyes shifting down to his newspaper, affection oozing from his face.
“You’re in a good mood today,” Abbey noted, rooting through the cabinets for a frying pan. She retrieved the eggs and cracked some into a bowl she’d found. “Whisk?” she asked.
“Top drawer to your left.”
“Thank you. So, what are your plans today?”
“I’m putting a bid on a paper corporation. You?”
“Making handprint ornaments for the living room Christmas tree.”
He laughed. “Busy day for both of us, then.”
“Yes,” she grinned, pulling a green pepper and an onion from the fridge and dicing it. “Good thing I’m cooking. We’ll need a good breakfast. I thought you were taking time off for Christmas.”
“I am. It’s only one bid.”
Abbey pursed her lips in playful disapproval, although she was half serious.