Christmas Wishes and Mistletoe Kisses(78)

He stood in front of her, one toe in the ice to steady himself. “What could possibly be romantic about this?” He was asking the question but his eyes were saying something else.

She skated to him, bumping into him slightly and wrapping her arms around his waist for support. She looked up into his eyes as he steadied them both. “This,” she said, and she pushed herself up with one skate to reach his lips. He bent down, putting his arms around her, and kissed her right there in the middle of the rink.

He pulled back to focus on her face. “You didn’t have to put me in these skates for that,” he said with a crooked grin. “I’d have done that in the car.”

“Don’t give me any ideas,” she said as she pulled away from him and skated away.



* * *



When they both felt they should be getting back, Nick drove Abbey to her mother’s. He turned off the engine as they sat in the driveway.

“Thank you for taking me,” Abbey said.

He nodded, a smile on his lips.

“I should have the house nearly finished when you get home on Friday—just a few rooms will be left by then.”

He nodded again. She turned for the car door handle but he stopped her and she faced him. He put his hands on her face and kissed her.

“Thank you for today,” he said. “I had a lot of fun.”

“You’re welcome.” She stepped out, and pulled the presents from the car, setting them down by her feet. “Okay,” she said, wishing there would be some way she could make him stay, but she knew there wasn’t. “I’ll see you next week,” she said.

“I’ll look forward to it,” he said, and his real smile came through again, making her lightheaded with emotion.

She shut the door of the Mercedes, picked up her bags, and gingerly stepped over a pile of shoveled snow to allow Nick room to back out. Feeling very cold, she tightened her new scarf as she watched him drive down the road. She didn’t move until the car was completely out of sight.

When there was nothing left but her, her bags, and the silence of the icy air around her, she put the presents in the trunk of her car. She’d gotten Max everything he’d asked for. She’d spent way more money than she’d ever in her life, but, just this once, she was going to make magic.

“Max sure had a lot to say about that new friend of yours,” Gramps said as she entered the house. He was sitting on the sofa, his hand bouncing furiously against his leg. Abbey remembered those hands as they’d pushed her on the swings at the park. He’d grab the chain at the base and pull her up almost over his head before letting go. As a child it had seemed like he was pulling her as high as the treetops. Gramps’s shaking hand came back into focus.

“Yes,” she said, acknowledging his comment. “Max really likes Nick.”

“And what do you plan to do about that?”

“Is there anything to do? He’s only a friend.”

“Is that how you say goodbye to a friend?” He shot a glance over to the window where she noticed a perfect view of the driveway. He’d seen their kiss.

“Max has his heart set on seeing him again. Did you know he told me about their sock races? He told me how Nick had talked to him when Max was in his office. When I asked what they’d talked about, Max said, ‘Big man work stuff’ and he seemed quite pleased to have had the chance to talk to him. His hopes are sky high, Abbey. I’ve never seen him like this.”

“Well, he’s done that himself,” she said feeling frustrated. “I’ve done nothing to get his hopes up like that.”

“No,” Gramps said, eyeing her in a way that told her otherwise.

“What?” She felt defensive.

“Nick Sinclair has been taking you to a lot of places recently. You stayed at his house during the snowstorm. You could’ve stayed here…”

“That’s not fair. He happened to be with me when the power went out and then the storm hit. That wasn’t my fault.”

“Have you considered his motivations in all of this? Why is he always around? What does he want?”

What does he want? she wondered herself. Does he even know?

She and Gramps could always talk. As a teenager, he was that neutral party who would listen when her mother would’ve been more judgmental. Her mom would worry about her choices, tell her what to do, but that wasn’t what Abbey needed to hear. She knew that her choices were sometimes not the best ones, but she went with her heart, and nothing her mother could say—even lovingly like she had—would change that. Gramps had a way of listening and guiding without pointing fingers. Looking back on all their conversations now, she realized that he wasn’t so neutral, and he had plenty of his own thoughts on the matters of her life; he just knew how and when to give his opinions, and she found that when she didn’t listen to him, later, she’d understand that he was right. Every time.