Callan sat at her desk, staring out the window, marveling at what had happened to Clay. The pouting, resentful, sometimes childish guy had disappeared and left the husband she used to be completely infatuated with in his place.
He’d been so sweet and attentive last night, just like the man she fell in love with all those years ago. She still couldn’t believe he’d showed up last night, looking like he belonged in some western advertisement and smelling like a million bucks.
She’d already had to suffer through a handful of teasing remarks from the girls in the office.
Once the story caught fire that Callan left the event with some tall, gorgeous man, the rumor mill worked overtime throughout the morning. Callan continued to assure them the mystery man was Clay. He rarely came by the center and most of the time when the girls saw him it was outside in his pickup.
Callan wondered, again, what brought about the change. Baffled by his behavior, she could barely concentrate on her work. Thank goodness, she could leave at a decent hour that night and tomorrow was a short day. Then she had a week off.
She just had to get through Christmas with the family first.
The next two days passed in a blur of activity. Callan and Clay both had projects they worked on, secret gifts they were hiding, and much to get ready for Christmas Day. Callan made a quick visit to see Aunt Julie and Uncle Ralph before they left for an extended holiday with one of their two boys in sunny Florida.
After a fun Christmas Eve dinner with Steve and Bobbi at the ranch, along with what seemed like half the county, Callan and Clay were as ready as they could get for Christmas.
Clay planned to wake up first and make a nice breakfast for Callan. When he pried open his eyes at an hour no one should be awake, he found her already dressed in jeans and a holiday sweatshirt, elbow deep in a turkey, getting it ready to put into the oven.
“Callan, what are you doing up this early? It’s barely four-thirty.” His yawn nearly cracked his jaw while he rubbed sleep from his bleary eyes.
“I know, but I’ve got to get the bird in the oven if everything is going to be done on time.” She wrestled the turkey into a browning bag and placed it in a roasting pan. Expertly twisting the bag shut, she put the bird in the oven then washed her hands.
Quickly drying them, she tossed aside the dishtowel and walked over to Clay. She leaned against his chest and kissed his cheek. “Merry Christmas, Brick.”
Even in his sleep-dazed state, he registered that she used his nickname. He hadn’t heard her say it for a long time. She couldn’t begin to know how much he appreciated hearing her say it.
Clay kissed her softly, reverently on the lips. “Merry Christmas, Laney. I hope it’s going to be a happy one for you.”
“It’s off to a good start.” Her impish grin turned his heart to mush, especially when she excitedly squeezed his hand. “I can’t wait to see what Santa brought!”