Bride Under the Mistletoe: The Magic of a Family Christmas

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_f72aa3c2-8122-5749-942e-c403d0ccdc92)

“WHAT did you do?”

So much for thinking that deep down inside he was a nice guy. “I didn’t do anything!”

A childish whimper floated to Wendy. Her office didn’t have a window, so when the lights went out, the room became pitch-black.

She bounced from her seat. “Harry, everything’s fine. The ice probably brought down a power line or two.”

“Damn.”

That had been Cullen.

Sliding her fingers across the edge of her desk, she began feeling her way to Harry. Instead, she bumped into Cullen’s thighs. Once again solid muscle greeted her and she jerked her hands away. It seemed fate was determined to find ways for her to touch him.

“Sorry!”

He cleared his throat. “It’s fine. I think Harry’s about two paces to your left.”

She found her way to Harry. Putting her hand on his shoulder for security, she said, “Here’s what we’ll do. It’s still light outside, so we can open the drapes in Mr. McCoy’s office.” She squeezed the little boy’s shoulder. “Is it okay for me to go and do that?”

Harry said, “Yes.”

“Okay. You stay here.” She carefully navigated past her desk, praying Cullen hadn’t moved in the thirty seconds she’d spoken with Harry.

“Don’t you have a flashlight or something?”

Cullen’s voice came from behind her, thank God.

“I’m sure there’s one in maintenance. Would you like to walk through the dark plant and then down the dark-as-night steps to the basement to get it?”

“Very funny.”

In another few seconds she found her boss’s desk and walked to the window behind it. Running her hands along the curtain, she found the pull string and opened the drapes. Pale light filtered in, but it was enough that she could see Harry and Cullen.

“If you guys want to sit in here, I’ll—”

Before she finished her sentence, Harry raced into the office. She stooped and caught him as he threw himself at her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, but he hugged her fiercely.

Looking away, Cullen scrubbed his hand across his mouth. “Now, what do we do?”

“It depends on how long it takes for the electricity to come back on.” She rose and grabbed Harry’s hand. “Benny Owens works just inside the door to the plant. He has a radio. It runs on batteries. It’s a mandate of our safety manual because in an emergency, we can tune it to the local station and hear what’s going on. There are five of them in strategic locations throughout the building. Benny’s is the closest.”

“Makes sense.”

“I’m the most familiar with the plant layout so I’ll go and get the radio.” She stooped in front of Harry. “Do you want to stay here with Mr. Barrington or come with me?”

He glanced at Cullen, then back at her, pulled in a big breath and said, “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Wendy laughed, rose and tousled his hair. The kid certainly caught on fast. “This should only take about five minutes.”

Standing in the semi-dark room with the uncomfortable little boy who’d promised to keep an eye on him, Cullen frowned. One minute turned into two. Two turned into three. Harry began to squirm.

“Don’t worry. Your mom will be back soon.”

The little boy peered up at him. “She’s not my mom.”

“Your aunt?”

He shook his head. “She’s nothing.”

Cullen frowned. “Nothing?”

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose. “I’m a frosting child.”

“A frosting child?”

“You know. Somebody else has to take care of me until portal services decides what to do with me.”

“Portal services?”

Exasperated, Harry said, “The place that puts kids in a home.”

“Oh! Social services. You’re a foster kid.”

He nodded. “Yeah. My mom died.”

Cullen’s heart stopped. Sadness filled him. Hoping he’d heard wrong, he said, “Your mom died?”

He nodded again.

Cullen bent down to talk to Harry on his own level. “Mine did, too.”

“Really?”

“A few months ago. January.” He shook his head in wonder. Time had certainly flown. “It’s been almost a year, but I still miss her.”

“I miss my mom, too.” He caught Cullen’s gaze. “She was sick though. Everybody says she’s happy now.”

Cullen nearly cursed. At the wake when people had told him his mother was in a better place, he’d believed it. But it was cruel to tell this little boy his mom preferred leaving him to staying with him.

“I’m guessing you don’t have any aunts or uncles?”

He shook his head.

Though he hesitated, half afraid of the answer, Cullen asked, “Where’s your dad?”