The December Market (Shelter Springs #2)

13

It took Rafe’s brain a few seconds to catch up to what had happened.

One moment he was kissing Amanda Taylor—how on earth had that happened?—and the next, he realized he had conked her shoulder with his cast.

His arm throbbed but he was more dismayed than truly hurt. He had only wanted to pull her closer. She was warm and smelled delicious and he moved his arm out of natural instinct, completely forgetting about the stupid fiberglass cast he wore.

“Oh man. I am so sorry. Are you okay?”

She gazed up at him for several long seconds, and he could almost see her trying to regain her composure, inch by inch. She looked warm and rumpled and it was all he could do not to pull her back into his arms, cast be damned.

“Are you sorry for kissing me or for slugging me with your cast?”

He debated his answer then finally decided on the truth. “How about both?”

He was not the kind of guy who suddenly kissed a woman out of nowhere, especially when it wasn’t as if they were in a relationship.

She blinked and turned back to the stove, picking up the container of pancake batter and carefully pouring more circles onto the still-hot griddle.

Was he wrong, or was her hand trembling slightly as she poured?

“The cast thing was an accident. The other part...well, that was probably an accident, too. Or at least a mistake, on both our parts. Is your arm okay?”

His arm burned but the rest of him, the parts that very much wanted this soft woman with the big green eyes and the slightly swollen lips, ached worse.

Somehow it seemed exactly like her to worry about his injury when she ought to be bashing him with one of her frying pans.

He released a long breath. “For the record, I don’t go around kissing every woman who offers to cook me breakfast.”

She sent him a sidelong look, then poured more pancake batter onto the griddle. “Good thing, or you likely would have more breakfast offers around town than you would know what to do with.”

Her tart words surprised a strangled laugh out of him. Oh, he liked her.

“I’m serious. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that. We’re not even...dating or anything.”

“Rafe. Stop. It’s fine. We kissed.” She shrugged, with a nonchalant sort of expression he wasn’t sure how to interpret. “It was lovely, don’t get me wrong. But it’s done now. Let’s just...move on.”

Rafe suddenly wasn’t so sure whether he wanted to move on, or if he would rather spend the next year or so kissing that soft mouth every chance he found.

He certainly couldn’t say that, so he just nodded, trying to be as nonchalant as she seemed to be. “Got it.”

She smiled, though he was oddly comforted to see her fingers were definitely trembling a little on the spatula she held. “I’m going to throw out the first batch of pancakes, since they must be cold now. These will be ready in only a minute, if you want to call in Isaac.”

“Right. I’ll do that.”

He walked through her small, cozy house until he found Isaac sitting on her sofa looking perfectly happy as he petted a purring cat with each hand. His son grinned at him.

“I think they like me,” he said.

“Of course they do. Who wouldn’t?” Rafe answered, doing his best to ignore the little pang of guilt that they didn’t have any pets.

He knew it was for the best. His schedule was so chaotic that a dog or cat—or hamster—would be left alone for large portions of the day. It was tough enough arranging care for Isaac. Rafe couldn’t see himself adding in another living creature to their small family.

“Amanda has breakfast ready for us. Let’s go find a bathroom so you can wash your hands. We should probably hurry and eat so we can see if any other neighbors need their sidewalks cleared.”

“I’m so hungry, I could eat a brontosaurus all by myself,” Isaac said as he headed into the kitchen after a short pit stop to the bathroom to wash his hands.

“I afraid I don’t have any of those,” Amanda said with a smile. “Will a Mickey Mouse pancake and some bacon do?”

She scooped a pancake off the griddle that was one large round shape with two smaller round shapes for ears.

“Hey. My dad makes those, too. You must have the same recipe!”

“We must.” Amanda smiled at the boy with so much warmth and tenderness that Rafe couldn’t seem to look away.

Over breakfast, she and Isaac filled up most of the conversation space, leaving little for Rafe to do but listen. They talked about race cars, they talked about his favorite soccer team, they talked about the trip to Disneyland he was dreaming about.

She had a wonderful way with children. Or at least a wonderful way with his child. She treated Isaac with respect and genuine interest in everything he wanted to talk about, and he glowed under her attention.

Sometimes, Rafe worried that his son was suffering because he didn’t have a mother in his life. When those thoughts occurred, he reminded himself that Isaac had a grandmother and two adoring aunts to help fill that void.

But now he wondered again what it would be like to have someone by his side, helping him make all the tough parenting decisions. Not to mention preparing Mickey Mouse pancakes and bacon in the mornings, while she looked soft and warm and kissable.

“I can’t wait to see Santa Claus,” Isaac said, once he had eaten every crumb of pancake on his plate. “My dad said he will be at the market this afternoon.”

“That’s right.”

“I know a secret,” Isaac said in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Do you?”

He nodded and pushed up his glasses. “That Santa won’t be the real Santa Claus. That’s what my cousin told me. It will be one of his helpers. The real Santa Claus is too busy helping his elves pack all the presents for Christmas.”

“Good point. I imagine that’s a pretty massive undertaking.”

“I’m going to ask Ito if we can go see him today.”

“That would be fun. Make sure you come to find me at my store. I might have some stickers for you and possibly a candy cane, if your dad says it’s okay.”

“I love candy canes!”

“Same. They’re delicious. What’s your favorite flavor?”

They compared peppermint and cherry and strawberry for a few moments, and Rafe sipped at his coffee, enjoying their comfortable chat immensely.

“I don’t have candy canes or stickers,” he finally said into a pause in the conversation. “I could give you a Star Wars bandage but that’s about it. Will you still stop by to see me, too?”

Isaac giggled. “Maybe. I like Star Wars .”

Rafe smiled at his son, the most wonderful gift he could ever hope to receive. “That’s good. I’ll save one for you.”

When Isaac had eaten the last of the bacon on his plate, Rafe slid back from the table. “That was a delicious breakfast. We should probably head back out so we can finish shoveling and Amanda can get on with her day. What do you say to her?”

To his surprise, Isaac slid his chair back and hurried over to throw his arms around Amanda for a hug. “Thank you for breakfast. You make really good bacon.”

She smiled and hugged him back. “That’s very nice, although your dad made the bacon. I only did the pancakes. Thank you for playing with Oscar and Willow. I am sure they loved the attention.”

She followed them out to her front entryway, where Rafe helped Isaac back into his boots, coat and gloves and awkwardly threw on his own over the cast.

“Thanks again for breakfast. I enjoyed it. I guess I’ll see you in a few hours at the market.”

“You are most welcome. It was my pleasure.”

She looked so warm and tousled, auburn hair falling out of a loose updo, that he had a sudden fierce urge to kiss her again, right there in front of Isaac. Somehow he managed to refrain as he ushered his son out the door.

The sun broke through the clouds as they grabbed their shovels and walked back down the street toward their house. Delores Parker, the elderly widow who lived next door to them, came out to her porch in a red plaid coat, holding a mug of something that sent curls of steam into the air.

“Were you the two angels who shoveled my sidewalk this morning?” she called out.

Isaac sent Rafe a sidelong look. He was obviously dying to confess.

“Somebody shoveled your walk? That was nice of them,” Rafe said, with a warning look to his son not to spill the beans.

“So very kind. If I only knew who it was, I might repay them with some of my chocolate chip cookies.”

“I bet whoever did it loves chocolate chip cookies a lot,” Isaac said in a wistful tone that gave away the whole game.

Delores chuckled and Rafe couldn’t help joining her.

“Well, thank you,” she said.

“You don’t have to repay us with cookies, Mrs. Parker. We were happy to do it.”

“And did I see you helping our Amanda, too? Good. She spends too much time taking care of everyone else. It’s nice to see someone helping her out for a change.”

Maybe they had helped her a little bit, clearing the snow away, but then he had added more chaos to her life by that kiss she had not asked for or encouraged.

He still didn’t know what had come over him, other than the pure sweetness of unexpectedly finding himself in a cozy kitchen with a lovely woman he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about.

“I like Mrs. Parker. She’s funny,” Isaac said as they tromped up to the porch of their house, which Rafe was slowly renovating. “And she makes really good cookies, too.”

Apparently that was a true sign of character, as far as his son was concerned.

“We’re lucky to have such good neighbors, aren’t we?”

Isaac nodded solemnly. “And I really like Amanda. She’s pretty and smells nice and that bacon was the best I ever had.”

He could not disagree, though he of course did not mention that her mouth tasted far better than the bacon ever could.