Page 13 of Sweet Yuletide (Indigo Bay Christmas Romances #4)

The words hung in the air as if suspended between them, and Michael didn’t want to disturb it.

He waited for her to look away, but she didn’t.

He was in no hurry to break the connection he felt with her.

Something seemed to hold them together. An invisible cable or a current of some sort.

Whatever it was, he didn’t want it to end.

“I need to go potty, Mommy!” a child yelled.

The sound jolted Michael from the daze he’d been in. He had no idea what had just happened. But it hadn’t sucked. That should bother him more than it did.

He forced his gaze from Sheridan and laughed. “My nephew is still at the drool and goo stage, but it won’t be long until he’s like that kid.”

“Do you enjoy being an uncle?”

As he imagined the baby, warmth flowed through him. “Monroe is the best little dude you’ve ever seen. The spit-up sucks if you don’t have another shirt to change into, and dirty diapers can be nasty, but I love him.”

She drew her eyebrows together. “You change diapers?”

“That’s part of being an uncle.” Her surprised expression made him laugh. He raised an eyebrow. “Surprised they trust me with their kid?”

“Shocked,” Sheridan joked. “Seriously, it’s great he has someone like you in his corner. All my relatives lived far away, so we rarely saw them. Aunts and uncles were people who sent Christmas cards or a check at graduation.”

His extended family lived within an hour’s drive to Charleston. “I can’t imagine.”

“Does it bother you to miss Monroe’s first Christmas?” she asked.

“Not really. The little guy doesn’t do much at his age, and his mom’s family hasn’t seen him as much as we have. And we’ll get him next year, and I hope every Christmas after that.”

She studied him.

He wiped his beard. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No, it’s just…”

“What?”

“You sound more like a family man than a frat guy.”

“My family means everything to me.” Which was why Michael wanted to keep them safe. He counted down the days until he would tell them how their financial futures were now set.

“I can tell.” Her gaze lingered before she focused on another tree. “We may need to try the next row.”

“Or, you could close your eyes, spin, and pick whichever one you’re facing.”

Sheridan gasped. “Never. You can’t just randomly pick a tree. That would be… wrong.”

“It could be a new tradition to go along with our family ones.”

She made a face. “We can come up with a better one than that.”

At least she was game. “I’m sure we can.”

“Oh.” She went to the other side of the aisle. “This one has potential.”

It looked like the others to him. “You’re the boss.”

“I want to pull it out to see the entire thing.”

This was the first tree she’d been that interested in. “I’ll…”

“I’ve got it.” She pulled the tree free of the others with apparent ease.

He struck a pose. “I’ll just stand here and look pretty.”

Ignoring him, she circled the tree, ran her fingers along several branches, and checked the tag. Her face glowed. “This is the one.”

Her choice surprised him. The tree was a little bare and lopsided. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“It’s the one you want?”

“Yes.” Her eyebrows drew together. “Do you want a different one?”

“No, it’s your choice, but it’s not…”

“What?”

“Perfect.”

“It has bare spots and it’s asymmetrical, but this tree has something the others don’t.”

He hoped not spiders. “What?”

“Character. If we position it right, no one will notice the flaws. And this one is half price.”

Guilt slammed into him like a Clemson defensive lineman. “I can afford—”

“Don’t say it.” She smiled at the tree. “You said it’s my choice, and I pick this one.”

At least it wasn’t a Charlie Brown Christmas tree. More like a cousin, once removed. “Now it’s my turn.”

“Thank you.” She stepped out of his way so he could pick it up. “If we didn’t take this one, I doubt anyone else would. And that would be a shame.”

“It would be.” But he doubted the tree cared.

She rubbed her hands together. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes.” Only he wasn’t talking about the tree. It would look fine once it had lights and decorations on the branches. Sheridan was the beautiful one. Her cheeks were pink from the cold, and her eyes twinkled. His mouth went dry.

“Let’s pay for this bad boy.” He carried the tree to the pop-up tent.

A lady—Jingle according to her name tag—took off the price tag. “Do you need preservative, or tree food as I prefer to call it?”

“No, thanks,” Sheridan replied before turning toward him. “My mom showed me what to use years ago. Something safe for the animals.”

“Fine by me.”

The other woman—Jangle—held up a cellophane-wrapped sprig of greenery. “We also have mistletoe.”

His gaze shot to Sheridan’s lips. Mistletoe might not be the smartest idea, except he remembered Von’s list on the refrigerator.

“We’ll take two.”

“Two?” Sheridan repeated, wringing her hands.

“My mom hangs mistletoe in the house. Von also asked me to get some for the New Year’s Eve party.”

And if Michael caught Sheridan standing under a sprig, a kiss was simply… tradition.