Bride Under the Mistletoe: The Magic of a Family Christmas. SUSAN MEIER
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glanced at Cullen’s topcoat, black suit and silk tie. “Were you at work?”
Cullen nodded. “Yeah. With Wendy.”
Wendy tapped Harry’s shoulder to get his attention. “Why don’t you and Cullen eat those cookies while I spend a minute with Mrs. Brennon?”
“Sure!” Taking Cullen’s hand, Harry led him to the table.
Wendy directed Mrs. Brennon to the front foyer. She explained that they’d gotten the news that Harry’s dad had passed away and they needed to tell him.
Mrs. Brennon’s eyes filled with tears. “How sad for that sweet little boy.”
“I know.”
The babysitter walked to the closet and pulled out her winter coat, mittens and scarf. “I’ll just be on my way then.”
“Thanks. We’ll see you on Monday.”
Mrs. Brennon said goodbye and exited through the front door.
Wendy took a deep breath then walked into the kitchen. Cullen had removed his topcoat and hung it on a hook beside the door. He sat at the table eating cookies with Harry.
“Hey, guys.”
“Hey, Wendy.” Harry peered at her above his glasses. “Cullen likes my cookies better than yours.”
“Well, yours were definitely prettier.” She took another breath. “How about if we go into the living room for a minute to talk about something?”
Harry grabbed two cookies. “Sure.”
He scrambled into the living room ahead of them. Without speaking, Cullen and Wendy followed him. He bounced onto the sofa. Wendy sat on one side. Cullen sat on the other.
“Randy Zamias from social services came to see me today.”
Harry wrinkled his nose. “He’s bad.”
“No. He’s trying to look out for your welfare,” Wendy said. “But he also had some news.”
When Harry didn’t answer, Cullen touched his forearm and Harry faced him. “About your dad.”
Harry looked at Wendy. “My dad?”
“Yes, honey. Randy was searching for your dad and he found him. But he’s…Well, he’s…”
“He’s like my mom, isn’t he?”
Wendy nodded. “Yes. I’m sorry. He died.”
It took a few seconds for that to really sink in, and when it did, Harry’s little face crumpled and tears welled in his eyes.
Wendy took his free hand, as Cullen grabbed the cookies that were falling from his other hand. Harry hadn’t seen his father since he was three. Technically, he’d lost his dad years ago. Wendy knew his tears weren’t so much from loss, but from fear. Now he was totally alone.
“But this really doesn’t change anything. You and I are together. I’m your mom now.”
His head down, Harry said, “But it’s just us.” Tears dropped to his blue-jean-covered thighs. In the silence, Wendy could hear fat Creamsicle thump down the stairs and amble into the room.
Over Harry’s bowed head, Wendy met Cullen’s gaze. She didn’t have a clue how to respond. She knew exactly what Harry meant. He had lost everyone in his life. With only her as a guardian, how could she promise him that he wouldn’t someday find himself alone again?
Cullen gave her a look that nudged her to be honest. To say what she felt.
“No matter what happens, I’ll be here for you, Harry. I love you.”
Creamsicle picked that exact second to jump up on the sofa and into Harry’s lap. He nuzzled his nose against Harry’s chin. As he did, the little red bell on his collar finally rang.
Harry’s head jerked up. He looked from Cullen to Wendy and back at Creamsicle again. Then he rubbed his face in the thick fur of the cat’s neck. “Thanks, Creamsicle.”
Wendy’s heart splintered. She’d never known her ornery cat to be affectionate with anybody but her, but right at that moment she was abundantly glad he’d taken to Harry.
“Okay,” Cullen said, rising from the sofa. “Since this has been a bad day, I’m going to take you both out to dinner.”
Harry sighed. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”
“Then,” Wendy said, deliberately brightening her voice, not really angry with Cullen for trying to cheer Harry, but noticing again that he never asked. He simply told. “Why don’t we make something fun for supper? Like spaghetti?”
Harry’s sullen expression didn’t change.
Cullen said, “Or hot dogs? We could roast hot dogs here in the fireplace. My dad and I used to do it all the time.”
That perked Harry up. “You did?”
“Sure.”
“And then we’ll make s’mores,” Wendy added, leading the men into the kitchen.
They managed to keep Harry entertained all evening, tiring him out so much that when he finally took a bath and went to bed, he fell asleep immediately.
As they closed the door on his bedroom, Wendy began to feel guilty for judging Cullen so harshly. His behavior that evening had proven he truly liked Harry, and only wanted what was best for the little boy in her care. She should appreciate the fact that Cullen had smoothed things over with Randy and invited them to dinner. After all, it wasn’t as if he were high-handing her into a relationship. He was being kind to her little boy.
Walking down the stairs, Wendy said, “Thanks for your help.”
“You could have handled it.”
That made her feel a little bit better. “Yeah, but your expertise about roasting hot dogs in the fireplace definitely came in handy.”
Thinking he would be leaving, Wendy walked to the front door, but Cullen passed her and returned to the living room. He grabbed the paper plates and chocolate-bar wrappers from the s’mores. As he straightened from the coffee table, he turned to the fireplace mantel and he stopped.
Setting the candy-bar wrappers on the paper plate, he walked over to the mantel, and lifted the picture of Greg holding a fishing pole.
“Is this your husband?”
“Yes.”
“He was a fisherman?” he asked brightly, obviously pleased they had something in common.
Realizing he’d gotten the wrong impression, Wendy snorted a laugh. “Not at all.”
“So there’s a story behind this?”
“Not really. More like a boring joke. Not something you’d be interested in.” She gave what she hoped was a conversation-ending reply, grabbed the napkins from the coffee table and gathered the unopened chocolate bars and graham crackers.
Now that it had sunk in that she was really Harry’s mom, she had yet another reason not to get involved with Cullen. Forget about the fact that he was her boss and they weren’t a good match; too much involvement between her and Cullen meant Harry could be hurt when he returned to Miami. As long as he was just a guy who came to dinner once or twice to visit Harry, Harry would be okay. But if Harry saw her and Cullen being romantic, he’d get all the wrong ideas and a little boy who’d already suffered enough hurt in one lifetime would once again be disappointed. It was best to keep things simple between her and Cullen.
In her peripheral vision, she saw him shake his head, just before he turned and walked through the foyer toward the kitchen.
Carrying the candy bars and graham crackers, she followed him. He dropped his trash into the receptacle, while she