Spencer Nation's Christmas Miracle Read online

  They were starting their third lap when a blonde in skin tight jeans and a low-cut black top rolled up to Kit's left side.

  "Hey, you," she said, her bright red lips spread out into a wide smile.

  "Tinsley," he greeted. "Have you met Spencer? Her mom is married to Mack."

  Spencer exchanged greetings with the other woman, noting how her smile widened when she realized Kit was just doing his almost-but-not-really brotherly duties by escorting Spencer around town.

  "How long are you in for?" Tinsley asked Kit, groping his arm with her perfectly manicured hand.

  "I'm hanging out with my family until Christmas night."

  It was a brush off, but Tinsley was tenacious.

  "Message me when you get some free time. I'd love to catch up." She gave his arm one final squeeze and then rushed ahead of them to join up with a group women who would have fit in better at a Playboy Mansion Christmas party than the Timber roller/ice skating rink.

  "How long did you two date?" Spencer asked once the other woman was far enough away she wouldn't overhear them.

  To Kit's credit, he didn't try to deny it. "Six months, maybe?"

  "And then you moved away and broke her heart."

  "More like she decided to date the captain of the basketball team."

  Tinsley was obviously an idiot.

  "She broke your heart then?"

  Kit snorted. “I think I did a fist bump the moment she was out of sight. That girl takes high maintenance to a whole new level.”

  Spencer decided to ignore the flash of smug satisfaction she felt. It was ridiculous. Tinsley hadn't been a part of his life in over a decade. Only a crazy person would be jealous of a high school romance, especially when they weren't interested in having a relationship with the person in question.

  "What about that one?" She asked, discreetly pointing to a woman with dark, curly hair who kept glancing their way every few minutes.

  It took Kit a minute to figure out who she was talking about. "Kristin? How did you know I dated her?"

  "She can't keep her eyes off you, and she looks like a woman who just realized she accidentally gave her Prada dress to Goodwill."

  Kit laughed. "Am I supposed to be the Prada dress in this situation?"

  "Don't pretend like you don't know you're hot." She could feel her face grow warm with embarrassment. Maybe he would think it was from the exertion or the wind since grown-ass women shouldn't blush every time she told a man he was attractive. "Modesty is one thing, but purposefully underselling yourself is quite another, Mr. Handyman to the Stars."

  Kit skated away from her, and for a moment she thought she'd offended him, but once he was a few feet in front of her, he turned around and began skating backwards.

  He was such a show off.

  "Mack has a big mouth," he said.

  "It was my mom, thank you very much." Anyone with any sense knew better than to tell Rita anything they didn't want the world to know, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

  "It's not as glamorous as I'm sure she made it sound," he said. A little boy fell directly behind him. To avoid a collision, Kit grabbed her hand and swung the two of them in a wide arc. Spencer's heart sped up, and not because of the burst of exertion. She could feel where his hand had touched hers long after he let go. "I'm a hired hand," he said, returning to their conversation. "It's not like I'm always sitting around, sharing a drink with Jack White or anything."

  "But you have sat around and shared a drink with Jack White?”

  Kit tried to bite back a smile, but his cheeks weren't having it. They revolted and pulled his mouth into a wide grin. "Maybe once or twice."

  "Odds and ends jobs my ass," she said, smiling just as big as he was.

  "Like you have any room to talk, Doctor Nation. I'm sure being a professor at one of the best universities in the South is a simple gig to land."

  It wasn't. She'd had to fight hard for her job, but not as hard as she would have at a school better known for liberal arts. "It's English lit," she reminded him. "I'm not exactly splitting atoms in half or perfecting brain transplants."

  "But it's still Vanderbilt.”

  "It is."

  "And you're still a professor."

  "I am."

  "And you can't deny you're gorgeous."

  She was so shocked she lost her balance for a moment. She was on the verge of correcting it when a runaway toddler smacked into her legs. As her body raced towards the earth, the only thing she could think was, Thank God I don't have to think up a response for that now.

  Chapter 9

  "Are you sure you don't need some ice?" Kit asked as they made their way down Main Street. The guys from the funeral home were handing out freshly roasted nuts and the smell of cinnamon, sugar, and pecans made his stomach rumble.

  "The only thing bruised is my pride," Spencer assured him, her gaze lingering on a table of scarfs knitted in the colors of the Hogwarts houses. "It's battered badly enough I probably should ice it down, but I'm not exactly sure where one would apply the pack."

  He'd been terrified when he saw her crashing down to the asphalt. His brain threw up a million worst case scenarios, each more tragic than the last. He'd fully expected to see a pool of blood forming beneath her head by the time she made contact. She'd laughed off the whole thing, but he made the paramedic on duty look her over before he allowed her to do anything else.

  He felt guilty as hell about her fall. He knew it was his remark about her being gorgeous that caused her to falter. He'd thought it was okay. She'd basically said the same thing about him earlier, but he'd misjudged. She'd been talking about how other women saw him, but he was talking about how he saw her. The difference was subtle, but important.

  The choir was getting ready to perform as they walked by the court house. Kristin waved from the top row of bleachers. He waved back, wondering where her husband was stationed these days and whether or not he would be able to make it back home before Christmas.

  "You never did tell me what happened between the two of you," Spencer reminded him when she saw who had captured his attention.

  "Kristin was my prom date junior year. We went as friends but had so much fun that night we thought we might try being something more. We were supposed to go on our first as-a-couple date the day my mom told me to start packing my stuff up. I was on a plane bound for Nevada the next week." He'd stayed in contact with Kristin for a long time after. Her dad was a military man, and he'd been instrumental in helping Kit pick out which path he wanted to take in the army. As a thank you, he'd introduced her to Jamie. The two of them were now married with a little girl named Ella.

  He could have told Spencer all of that, but he kind of liked this jealous thing she had going on. It let him know she wasn't quite as indifferent to his charms as she was letting on.

  "What about you?" he asked, feeling a bit jealous and curious himself. "What is the story of you and your ex?"

  Spencer's shoulders squared and her jaw bunched. He thought she might tell him to go to hell, but instead she said, "There isn't much to tell. We met through mutual friends and were together five years. The day after Thanksgiving I came home after hitting up some Black Friday sales and found him having sex with my favorite barista from my favorite cafe down the street. He begged me to stay, but I couldn't live with his conditions, so I packed up my stuff and got a new apartment." She blinked up at him, her pretty blue eyes filled with so much sadness he wanted to do somebody, preferably her ex, bodily violence. "That was why I skipped out on Thanksgiving weekend with your family. I didn't think I was too good for them. I was trying to find a place to live and move all my stuff across town. I didn't tell Mom what was going on until it was over because I knew she would have driven down to help me, and spending the holiday with Mack and the girls was important to her."

  "Beth is such a bitch.”

  "She didn't know me or my situation," Spencer said, defending the one person who didn't deserve it.

  Well, not
the only one. Whoever Spencer's ex was needed to hope and pray on a daily basis their paths never crossed.

  "Beth had every reason to think I was brushing them off. I purposefully let everyone believe that."

  "I'm going to talk to her. Set her straight."

  Spencer laid a hand on his chest as if she expected him to immediately take off to find her. Her hand was tiny, but it felt like a piece of coal. The warmth spread from his chest throughout his body, heating parts of him that needed to stay cool while roaming the city streets with the rest of the entire county.

  "Don't say anything to her. Please."

  "Why not?" At the very least Beth owed Spencer a real apology, none of this sorry-my-kid-repeated-what-I-said bullshit.

  "She's finally starting to warm up to me. If you say something, it's just going to make everything awkward again. I want things to be good between us, for my mom's and Mack's sakes."

  He nodded his head, letting her assume it meant he was agreeing. It was really a nod that meant he heard her and understood her point of view. He didn't agree with it, but he understood it.

  They walked a little further up the street. People from one of the local banks, dressed like characters from A Christmas Carol, were handing out cups of warmed apple cider. Kit snatched one for himself and handed another over to Spencer.

  "What were the conditions?"

  "The what?"

  "You said you couldn't agree to your ex's conditions,” he reminded her. “What were they?" What had that slime ball asked her to do? Not knowing was bugging him.

  "He wanted to stay together," she said, blowing a cool stream of air across the top of her drink. "He wanted for me to stick around, but he wanted to keep screwing whoever he wanted. He even said we should get married." She snorted. "Do you know that was the first time he brought up marriage? After five years together, the first time he said anything about getting married was in a room that still smelled of sex from where he cheated on me."

  "I think I hate this ex-boyfriend of yours."

  "I think I might too." She took a sip of her cider while Kit tried to ignore the tears swimming in her eyes. "He kept saying he loved me. He must have said it a million times. I was his soul. His other half. He loved me, but I just didn't do it for him anymore."

  "Do what? Have sex with him?"

  "Oh, no. We were still, you know, active. Apparently, though, it wasn't enough for him. He told me he might have been able to get by if I was more adventurous in the bedroom, but between my lack of imagination and the complete lack of sexual appeal, he had to sate his passions elsewhere."

  Kit quit walking, which earned him more than a few glares from the other pedestrians.

  "Is he gay?"

  "Who? Travis? No. Were you even listening to me?"

  "I was listening, but I'm not understanding. The only thing that makes any sense is that he likes dudes. Because I simply cannot wrap my head around anyone who likes women not wanting you."

  Spencer sucked in a breath and her eyes went wide. Kit had never wanted to kiss anyone as much as he wanted to kiss her at that moment. He was about to do it and let the onlookers go to hell when an unstoppable force collided with his immovable legs.

  "Uncle Kitten!" Emma cried, reaching up for him and shattering the moment. Thank God. A few more seconds and he would have done something truly stupid. "Santa is here, Uncle Kitten!"

  "Santa, huh?" There were probably fifteen Santas here.

  "Yeah, you gotta go tell him what you want. Poppy said so."

  "Well, if Poppy said so," he said, already carrying her back towards where he could see the rest of their family clustered together.

  "What are you going to ask for?" Emma asked. "You can only ask for one thing, so make sure it's something you really, really want."

  There was only one thing Kit wanted, but he doubted a fat guy in a red suit could give it to him. Even if he could, there was no way he would ever be able to keep it. Guys like him didn't get happily ever afters.

  Chapter 10

  Sunday and Monday went by in a blur. There were trees to chop down and decorate, treats to bake and deliver, presents to buy and wrap, and kids to entertain and cuddle. There had even been a scavenger hunt for a poopy diaper when Avery somehow managed to crawl out of hers when no one was looking. Thank God Spencer's mother owned a carpet cleaner. Otherwise, the white carpet in the living room would have never looked the same again.

  "Do you want me to take him?" Eddie asked, indicating the sleeping child in Spencer’s arms. Over the past two days she and Daniel, Eddie and Amanda's two-year-old son, had bonded. He was a very reserved little boy. Their introverted souls seemed to call out to one another. When the other kids started bouncing around in a wild rumpus, he would seek out Spencer for some quiet cuddles. She didn't have much experience with kids, but she found she liked the warm weight of one asleep in her arms.

  "I can hold on to him a bit longer if you need me to," she hedged, embarrassed to admit she didn’t want to give him up.

  "Sorry," Eddie said, already pulling his sleeping son from her arms. "Maddie is requesting your presence in the living room. It's game time."

  Game time. Of course.

  On Sunday the rain came, bringing with it bitterly cold temperatures. Without a chance to run off some of her energy, Maddie had become unbearable. She was constantly underfoot, begging everyone to play with her, and getting angry anytime anyone said no. By lunch time, they were all in danger of snapping. That was when Kit had struck a bargain with the little tyrant. If she would behave and play nicely with her cousins during the day, then at night everyone, adults included, would play a game with her.

  Sunday night they played dolls. Last night they'd tried their luck at an eleven-person game of Go Fish. Spencer couldn't wait to see what revelries were in store for them tonight.

  In the living room, Maddie was standing on the ottoman, her hands cupped around her mouth.

  "Attention! Attention, ladies and gentlemen!" She shouted above the nonexistent den. "Tonight's game will be... Sardines!"

  "Sardines?" She asked Kit, who was standing close enough she could feel the warmth of him against her side. They hadn't talked about what he'd said at the Christmas Spectacular, but they had spent every possible moment together since then. Sometimes she thought she noticed him looking at her with something other than brotherly affection. Her logical brain said it was all in her head. It argued that he'd only said those things to make her feel better about herself.

  Her heart, however, refused to listen. It sped up every time he was near and ached for him when he wasn't. Her dreams had even gotten in on the action, growing more and more erotic every night. She could only hope she didn't moan in her sleep and give herself away.

  "You've never played sardines?” Kit asked as if she'd claimed to not know what checkers were.

  "Think of it as the opposite of hide-and-seek," Beth explained. "One person hides, and then everyone else has to go look for them. When you find the person who is hiding, you hide with them until everyone is squeezed into the same space."

  "I think you guys are making this up, but okay. I can get down with a little reverse hide-and-go-seek." At least she didn't have to be the Hans doll from Frozen again. She had a bruise on her knuckles where Maddie's Anna doll kept pushing Hans into the lake.

  "How are we going to decide who hides?" Amanda asked. "Should we all put our big potatoes in?" She demonstrated what she meant by clasping her hands together and sticking them out in the middle of the group.

  "Nope! I made papers," Maddie announced, holding up a bowl full of scraps of papers. "Nana Rita helped. All of them have a heart on them, except for one. It has a star. If you draw the star, then you're It."

  Everyone dutifully selected a slip of paper, and at Maddie's command, kept them folded until given the order.

  "Okay, show your paper."

  Around Spencer, everyone flashed hearts to the group. With a strong sense of foreboding, Spencer opened hers.


  "I've got the star," she announced. "I guess I'm It."

  Maddie growled. "We need a redo."

  "Madeline Grace Hernandez, you will be kind and gracious, and you will stop being bratty right now," Beth growled right back.

  "Fine," Maddie stomped. "But if she ruins it, it's not my fault."

  "I think she's warming up to me," Spencer mumbled loud enough for only Kit to hear. He put a hand over his mouth to cover his laughter.

  "How is this going to work?" Mack asked. "Spencer is going to have a hard time finding a place to hide if we're all standing here in the middle of the living room. There are only so many places she can go in this small house."

  "We could go out on the porch," Eddie suggested.

  Amanda raised a formidable eyebrow. "It's twenty degrees out there. Our kids will get frostbite."

  "Not in thirty seconds," Kit argued.

  "You could all go to the master bathroom," Spencer suggested. "It's in the very back of the house, and if you turn on the water, you won't be able to hear me moving around out here." Plus it would put them far away from where she was planning on hiding.

  Maddie thought the idea was rubbish, but she was quickly outvoted. Once Spencer was certain everyone was in the bathroom and the door was closed, she sprinted down the stairs. As soon as her feet hit the the basement floor, she made a beeline for the coat closet. It was built into the bottom of the stairs, so it would give people plenty of space to squeeze in, but it was also small enough that they would still have the fun of trying to fit everyone in one space. It's greatest attribute, however, was that no one would remember it was there. While everyone else was tearing the upstairs apart looking for her, she could enjoy some peace and quiet.

  She was silently congratulating herself and thinking about sliding her phone out of her pocket so she could read something in her Kindle app while she waiting this out when the door cracked open and someone slid through it.