Once again, she was alone—and soon she’d be unemployed.
She trudged up the back steps to the kitchen door, scolding herself for being so negative. She knew what was wrong. The near miss with playing Santa’s helper had rattled her. Four hours of ushering kids to Santa’s throne and listening to their sweet voices as they gave their Christmas lists to the jolly old elf would have been her undoing—a bittersweet reminder to her that she’d never bring a child into this world.
Inside the cold yellow kitchen, she’d just barely unwound the scarf from her neck when the doorbell rang. Confused, she walked up the hall, dodging the boxes of Christmas decorations she’d brought from the attic the night before. She flipped on the porch light and yanked open the door.
A snow-covered state policeman took off his hat. “Evening, ma’am. I’m Trooper Potter.”
She blinked. What the devil would the police want with her? “Good evening.”
Then Trooper Potter shifted a bit to his left and she saw Rory Wallace. All six foot one, no more than one hundred and eighty-five gorgeous pounds of him. His black hair and topcoat were sprinkled with snow. His dark eyes were wary, apologetic.
“Rory?”
“Good evening, Shannon.”
The policeman angled his thumb behind him. “I see you know Mr. Wallace.”
“Yes. I do.” How could she forget a dark-haired, dark-eyed sex god? While he had dated her roommate, Natalie, their first year at university, Shannon had had a secret crush on him. With his high cheekbones, well-defined chin, broad shoulders and flat abs, he had the kind of looks that made women swoon and Shannon wasn’t blind.
“Mr. Wallace was stranded on the interstate. The hotels filled up quickly with travelers and now his only options are a cot in the high school gym or finding someone to take him in. He tells me that he’s in Pennsylvania because he has business with you on Monday and—”
“I came a few days early to get a look at the store on my own,” Rory interrupted, stepping forward. “But I ran into the storm. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind me staying the night. Normally, I wouldn’t ask such a big favor, but as you can see I’m desperate.”
Mind? She almost laughed. She would bet that fifty percent of the women he met fantasized about being stuck in a storm with him.
She opened the door a little wider. Not only would having him stay the night get her out of the doldrums about her life, but this also had all the makings of a perfect fantasy. Cold night. Gorgeous guy. And wine. She had tons of wine.
“Daddy, I’m cold.”
Her fantasy came to an abrupt halt as she glanced down and saw a little girl standing beside Rory. She wore a pink ski jacket and carried a matching pink backpack. Little strands of yellow hair peeked from beneath her hood.
Her heart pinched with fear. Her breathing stuttered out. Did Fate think it was funny to let her dodge playing Santa’s helper only to drop an adorable child on her doorstep?
“You can see why I don’t want to stay in a shelter.”
Fear and yearning collided as she glanced down at the sweet little girl with big blue eyes and fine yellow hair. As much as she knew spending time with this child would intensify her longing for her own children, she couldn’t leave Rory and his daughter out in the cold or ship them to a crowded gym with hundreds of other noisy travelers and a tiny cot.
She also couldn’t be a Scrooge. Her problem wasn’t their problem. She would be a good hostess.
She stepped back so they could enter. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
Carrying a duffel bag and briefcase as he squeezed into the foyer, Rory brushed against her, setting off a firestorm of sensations inside her. She ignored them. Not just because a man with a child was most likely married, but because she probably wouldn’t have made a pass at him even if he’d been alone. In the year since her divorce, she hadn’t been able to relate to men as anything other than employees. After her husband’s anger over her inability to have kids and the way he’d dropped her like a hot potato—no consideration for their five-year marriage, no consideration for her devastation—the fear of another man rejecting her paralyzed her.
Plus, come Monday, they’d be doing business. His family owned a holding company for various types of stores and Raleigh’s would probably fit their collection. That’s why she’d thought of Natalie’s old boyfriend when her parents had decided they wanted to sell the store. It could be a quick, painless sale. She didn’t want to jeopardize that.
But, wow. It had been fun to fantasize about being stranded with him, fun for the ten seconds before reality intruded, reminding her she wasn’t normal.
As Rory dropped his duffel bag, she said, “It’s a terrible storm.”
“Worst in ten years,” the trooper agreed, staying behind on the porch. “If you’re all settled, I need to get back on the road.”
“We’re fine,” Shannon said, as she began to close the door. As an afterthought, she added, “Thank you.”
“Yes, thank you,” Rory Wallace called out, too.
Already on his way down her front steps, the trooper waved goodbye and trudged through the thick snow on the sidewalk to his car.
Awkward silence reigned as Rory Wallace took in the foyer of Shannon Raleigh’s home. As if it wasn’t bad enough that he’d been forced to humble himself and ask for shelter from a business associate, it appeared she was moving. Boxes blocked half the corridor that led from the foyer to the kitchen behind it. They littered the living room to the right and the dining room to the left.
Which made him feel even guiltier. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”
She smiled graciously. “You’re welcome.” Then she shivered, even though she wore a long white coat and the house wasn’t that cold, just chilled, as if the heat had been on low all day while she was at work. “Give me a minute to turn on the furnace.” She walked to a thermostat on the wall and adjusted it. “You might want to keep your coats on until it heats up in here.”
He unbuttoned his topcoat. “Actually, after spending ten hours in a car, your house is warm to us.” He stooped to help his daughter with her jacket. Realizing he’d never introduced her, he peeked up at Shannon. “This is my daughter, Finley.”
Crouching beside them, Shannon said, “It’s nice to meet you, Finley.”
Finley mumbled, “Nice to meet you, too,” then she looked at him as if wanting to make sure he’d noticed that she’d been polite.
Sliding her arms out of her little pink jacket, he gave her a subtle nod of approval. Lately, Finley had been something of a six-year-old diva. Disciplining her worked, but not always. And some days he was at his wits’ end with her. So he was lucky she’d been polite to Shannon Raleigh. He didn’t know how he’d deal with her if she insulted the woman who’d rescued them.
“This is the perfect night to be stranded with me,” Shannon said, taking Finley’s jacket to the closet behind her. “My parents will be home from Florida next Saturday and I promised I’d have the house decorated for Christmas. All these boxes are decorations they left behind when they moved to Florida. You can help me.”
While Rory breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t interrupted her moving, Finley’s nose wrinkled and her eyes narrowed with distaste. Before he realized what she was about to do, she spat, “I hate Christmas.”
Shannon reared back as if someone had slapped her. Her pretty blue eyes widened in disbelief. “Hate Christmas? How can you hate Christmas?”
“How can you believe that a fat guy in a red suit brings you presents?”
Anger pulsed through Rory’s veins and he shot Finley a warning look. He wouldn’t yell at her in front of Shannon, but he did need to provide a few rules for behavior when imposing on someone they barely knew. He faced Shannon. “Why don’t you tell me where we’re sleeping and I’ll take Finley to our room and help her get settled in.”
Shannon winced. “Actually, there’s only one bedroom.”
“Oh.”
“It’s no big deal. We’ll give the bed to Finley, and you and I will use sleeping bags. You can put yours on the floor beside the bed and I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
Mortal embarrassment overwhelmed him. He hadn’t realized how much he’d be putting her out when he gave her name to the state policeman. “This is such an imposition. You can’t give us your room. Finley and I don’t mind sleeping in the living room.”
Finley stomped her foot. “I don’t want to sleep on the floor.”
He flashed Finley another warning look. “You won’t. You can have the sofa.”
“I want a bed!”
Rory’s head pounded. He understood that this time of year wasn’t easy for Finley. Her mom had left on Christmas day two years before. So every year, she got moody, and every year he indulged her by taking her on vacation from Christmas Eve to New Year’s. For a guy who’d also lost his marriage on Christmas day, a vacation from the holiday was good for him, too. But the foot-stomping and the pouting and the demands that everything go her way, those had just started. And he absolutely refused to get on board with them. He had to spend the next week looking at Raleigh’s Department Store for his family’s holding company. He couldn’t have her acting like a brat all week.
He turned to Shannon. “Would you mind showing us to the bedroom so I can get Finley settled?”