A Mistletoe Affair (3 page)

Sandra shook her head, a pitiable look on her face. “I’m almost tempted to tell you to hire a temporary nanny to cover for Laurie while she’s away, but that won’t solve your problem.”

“I don’t have a problem,” he said.

“You most definitely
do
have a problem. You have no life. And yes, I know you’ve been taking care of Mason full-time since the election ended, but that’s not the life you’re used to living. Maybe you should just go back to work. Maybe you’d be less irritable.”

Hadn’t Vicki just accused him of the same thing?

“Why does everyone think I’m irritable?” Jordan asked. “I’m just tired. Besides, I can’t go back to the firm. I took an extended leave, remember? I thought I would be working on Oliver’s transition team right now.”

Sandra rolled her eyes. The election was a sore subject for everyone in his family, especially his sister.

When he spoke, Jordan kept his voice low. “Hey, Sandra? The fallout from the election, it hasn’t caused any friction, has it? You know, between you three?”

“What do you think, Jordan? You accused my best friend’s father of trying to steal an election. Do you think things would be all sunshine and roses around here? The three of us decided that when it comes to the election we’re Switzerland, but things are still a bit awkward.”

“Switzerland?” he asked.

“Completely neutral.”

“Oh. Well, I wish I had that luxury.”

“You do.” Sandra reached over and clamped a hand on his forearm. “The election is over. You can accept the results and move on.”

Jordan shook his head. “I can’t. I know something—”

She lifted her hand and held it up, stopping him. “Switzerland. I don’t want to know.”

“That’s too bad,” Jordan said. “I’m pulling the ‘sibling in need of an ear’ card, because I need to talk this out with someone.”

Sandra blew out an aggravated breath. “What is it?”

“I heard from the election commissioner this morning. According to Massachusetts’s election laws, only the candidate can officially file for a recount, so they can’t go forward unless Oliver requests it.”

“Oliver has already conceded.”

“I know. I told him he was making a mistake, but he refused to listen to me. I just don’t understand how he can sit back and do nothing.”

“Maybe he wants to be gracious in his defeat and move on with his life,” Sandra said. “Just as
you
should move on.”

Jordan shut his eyes and pitched his head back again.

“I wish I could,” he said. He straightened in the chair and looked at Sandra. “Something fishy happened with that election. My polling data was solid.”

“Well, if the commissioner’s office refuses to go forward with a recount, none of that matters, does it? You need to just put this election behind you.”

Jordan pressed his palms together and tapped his fingers against his lips. “I hired my own investigators,” he finally admitted.

Sandra groaned. “Okay, Jordan, I’m just going to say it. This election has driven you right off the deep end.”

“I’m only doing what I think is right,” he said. “If I just rolled over and played dead the way Oliver has, then it’s like admitting that my polling was wrong, and I know it wasn’t.” He put both hands up. “If I don’t find anything before Darren takes office in January, then I’ll drop it. But until then, I’m going to search for the proof I know is out there.”

“Can we please stop talking about this election? You’re giving me a headache.”

“Fine,” Jordan said. He picked up what he could only assume was some kind of dressmaking thing from a nearby desk and twirled it around his finger. “Are you and Isaiah planning to hang around until after the Kwanzaa celebration?”

“Of course,” Sandra answered, balancing Mason on her lap while he bounced up and down. “This is Isaiah’s first Christmas in Wintersage in years. He wants to experience it all again—the big extravaganza and Christmas parade, and our family’s annual Kwanzaa celebration. We’ll likely spend Christmas Day shuttling between Mom and Dad’s and his parents’ place.” She glanced over at him. “What about you guys?”

Jordan shrugged. “We’ll be at Mom and Dad’s.”

“What about spending Christmas with
his
mom?” She nodded toward Mason. “Have you heard from Allison at all?”

“No,” Jordan said. “Subject closed.”

“Jordan—”

“Subject
closed,
” he repeated. He ran his hand down his face. “I’m sorry. I’m just not in the mood to talk about Allison.”

“After I just had to listen to all that election crap?”

“Do you really want to use your ‘sibling in need of an ear’ card on talk about Allison?”

“Whatever,” Sandra said. “Why did you come over here in the first place if you don’t want to talk about anything but that election?”

“Maybe I wanted you to spend time with your nephew, but if you don’t want to we can leave.” Jordan made as if he was about to get up. His sister shot him an evil look.

“Sit down,” she said.

He grinned, knowing that would get under her skin. He took his seat, picked up the shiny tool again and resumed twirling it around his finger.

“Would you put down my eyelash curler?”

“Your what?”

She gestured to her eyes. “Eyelash curler. You know, to extend my lashes.”

Jordan tossed the thing on the desk as though it had suddenly caught fire. He blew out another weary breath and stretched his legs out in front of him.

Folding his hands over his stomach, he said, “I saw Vicki downstairs. She looks nice today.”

“She has a date.”

“Yeah, that’s what she told me. She offered to babysit Mason so I can get some rest.”

“I hope you took her up on her offer. You can use it. You look like a reject from
The Walking Dead.
”

“You do know how to flatter a guy,” Jordan said with a snort.

She sent him a saccharine smile. “I try.”

“So,” Jordan asked, picking up a pencil from Sandra’s desk and tapping it against his thigh. “Do you know the guy she’s going out with tonight?”

The moment the question left his mouth Jordan wanted to take it back.
Why
had he just asked that? Especially of Sandra.

His sister’s eyes narrowed. “I haven’t met him,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

“Forget it.”

Her brow arched. “No, why don’t you tell me, Jordan? Why the sudden interest in Vicki’s dating life?”

Just as he was about to tell Sandra to drop it, Mason threw his head back and started to wail. Not since his first moments of life in the delivery room had Jordan been so grateful to hear his baby boy cry.

*

“I hope your mother appreciates these,” Vicki said as she handed Samson Cornwell his credit card. “It’s sweet of you to buy her a dozen roses just because.”

“I thought it would be nice to brighten her day,” Samson said. “And you do such an amazing job, Vicki. These roses are just amazing.”

“I can’t really take the credit. I just arranged them. Mother Nature did the hard work.”

His roaring laugh echoed against the walls. The effort it took for Vicki not to roll her eyes was downright admirable.

“Did you have this sense of humor back in high school?” Samson asked, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “Who knew you were so funny?”

Vicki hunched her shoulders in a “who knew?” gesture. She pushed the vase filled with blush-colored Antique Silk roses and baby’s breath toward him, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. He didn’t.

Sam rested an elbow on the counter and leaned in close. “When did you get interested in flowers?” he asked. “You know, I read somewhere that there are over twenty different species of roses. That’s amazing, isn’t it?”

“Try nearly two hundred,” Vicki said.

His eyes went wide. “Really? Two hundred? That’s amazing.”

She wondered if he would be offended if she threw a thesaurus in with his dozen roses. That was the fifth
amazing
since he’d walked through the door.

The phone rang. Vicki decided then and there to give whoever was on the other end of the line a free centerpiece for their holiday dinner table.

“I have to get this, Samson. Thanks again for utilizing Petals for your floral needs. I hope your mother enjoys her roses.”

“Oh, I know she will,” he said. He winked at her.

It took everything Vicki had in her not to groan. She answered the phone. “Petals.”

It was Declan. As she listened to his apology and explanations for canceling their date tonight, her spirits deflated. Well, there went her big plans. Maybe she should run outside and stop Samson before he drove away.

The door swung open and Samson rushed back in. She immediately regretted the thought she’d just had. She so was not going out with Samson Cornwell. She didn’t care how
amazing
a date with him would be.

“My wallet,” Samson said, retrieving it from where he’d left it on the counter.

Vicki walked him to the door, then turned and spotted Sandra, Jordan and Mason marching down the stairs.

Sandra pointed to the door as she reached the landing. “Let me guess, another new male customer who suddenly has a penchant for flowers?”

“Samson Cornwell,” Vicki said. “You remember him?”

Sandra pulled a face. “That fool who nearly blew up the chemistry lab at Wintersage Academy?”

“The very one.”

“Don’t tell me he asked you out.”

“I didn’t give him the chance,” Vicki said.

Jordan stood there with Mason, his gaze volleying back and forth between her to Sandra.

“The men of Wintersage have developed an amazing interest in flowers this week,” Sandra explained to him.

Vicki groaned. “Please don’t say the word
amazing.
” Sandra’s forehead dipped in question. “Don’t ask,” Vicki added.

“Anyway,” her friend said, turning once again to Jordan, “one came in yesterday and bought a bouquet for his dentist. His
dentist.
It’s ridiculous.”

“Petals appreciates it,” Vicki said. “Petals’s owner, however, is so over it.”

“Wait.” Sandra frowned. “Why are you still here? Don’t you have a date tonight?”

Vicki tried to keep the defeated sigh from escaping, but failed. “Declan had to cancel. He was called in to cover the E.R. Apparently they just got slammed with food poisoning from a birthday party.”

“Aw, honey, I’m sorry.”

“There’s always a next time,” she said, hunching her shoulders. She turned her attention to Jordan, who was now fighting to put Mason’s jacket on him, a battle he was clearly losing. Vicki bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. “Do you need some help?” she asked.

He held the jacket out to her and let out a relieved sigh. “Please.”

Instead of taking the jacket, she took Mason. The little boy leaned his head on her shoulder and stuffed his thumb between his lips, and Vicki’s heart instantly went the way of ice cream on a hot summer day.

Her heart did something all together different when she looked up again and found Jordan with his bottom lip between his teeth, concentrating hard as he threaded Mason’s chubby arms through his jacket sleeves. She absolutely hated that everything he did looked so damn sexy on Jordan. And that she couldn’t help but love it.

She suddenly discovered a bright spot to her canceled date.

“I’m free to babysit tonight,” she said to Jordan.

His head popped up. “You sure? What if your date manages to get away from the hospital after all?”

“From the way things sounded, that doesn’t seem likely. Besides, you look as if you can really use the rest.”

“I told him he looks like shit,” Sandra said.

Vicki covered Mason’s exposed ear. “Not in front of the baby,” she admonished.

“Don’t waste your time,” Jordan said. He hooked a thumb toward his sister. “I’ve already accepted that this one will teach my son every swearword there is by the time he turns three.”

“That’s what aunties are for,” Sandra said, giving the baby a kiss on the cheek before heading back up the staircase.

“So are you really up for babysitting tonight?” Jordan asked. “Because if you are I won’t turn you down. Sandra’s right, I do look like shi... Crap,” he finished.

“Saying
crap
isn’t much better,” Vicki said, unable to hide her grin. She jiggled Mason’s chubby cheek. “Just wait until his grandma Nancy hears those swearwords coming out of his mouth. Then both your daddy and Auntie Sandra will have some explaining to do.”

“Don’t remind me,” he said.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Vicki laughed. She turned her attention back to Mason. “What do you think of me coming over, huh? We can play games, or watch a movie, or even make a snowman while your daddy gets a little rest. What do you say about that?”

The little baby teeth that peeked out as his face broke into a smile was hands down the most adorable thing she’d seen in months.

“I think he’s okay with it,” Jordan said with a grin of his own.

Her reaction to
that
smile was wholly uncalled-for. Maybe if she refused to acknowledge the flutter that swept through her stomach, she could pretend it didn’t really happen. Because, seriously, how could a simple smile give her butterflies?

She could not wait until the day she was past this ridiculous infatuation—
if
she could ever move past it.

No. There was no
if
about it. When it came to her feelings for Jordan, the new Vicki was not going down the same road the old Vicki had traveled. She’d come to that decision after Sandra’s wedding. It was the reason she’d signed up on that dating website: she was done pining for Jordan Woolcott.

Yet she’d just agreed to babysit for him tonight. What in God’s name had convinced her to come up with that stellar suggestion?

She studied the look of exhaustion etched around his face and was reminded of just why she’d made the offer.

“Are you on your way home now?” Vicki asked.

“You done here?” he asked, gesturing to the refrigerated display case.

“Yep, Petals is closed for the day. I was supposed to be on a date, remember?” Vicki refused to read anything into the way his brows dipped at the reminder. “Just let me grab my purse and keys and I’ll follow you to your place.”