Christmas on the Coast - Lee Tobin McClain Page 0,3

couldn’t take another loss, not after losing his mother two years ago.

Paul’s whole life centered, now, around protecting his son.

“Daddy, you’re squeezing me,” Davey said.

Paul loosened his grip. “Sorry, kiddo. You had me scared.” He let Davey slide to the ground and watched him as he cuddled against Sarge. Thank heavens for his loyal former K-9 dog. How terrifying might Davey’s late-night excursion have been without the big bloodhound for company?

“Sit down, Trey. Want some coffee?” Without waiting for an answer, Amber turned and reached high for a cup, her sweatshirt rising to reveal a thin slice of skin above those skimpy leggings. Women shouldn’t wear them, Wendy had always said; she’d thought them too tight and revealing. Paul had agreed, just to keep the peace. He hadn’t been the best husband in the universe, but he’d known enough not to defend other women’s revealing clothing choices to his wife.

He looked away and realized that Trey had seen him checking her out. He hadn’t been, not really. He’d just noticed what any guy would notice, probably including her brother-in-law. Still, his face heated. He didn’t need to add “creepy old guy” to the list Trey was no doubt making in his head.

Not that he was that much older than Amber. Ten years, at the most.

But ten years could be a lifetime.

Amber put coffee in front of Trey and then looked at Paul. “Want a refill of hot chocolate? Or some coffee?” She glanced down at Davey. “I’m thinking he won’t need a refill.”

Indeed, Davey was resting his head on Sarge now, his eyelids fluttering like he could barely keep them open.

“Thanks, I’ll just finish this off.” He wrapped a hand around the still-warm mug.

Trey pulled out his phone and started texting. Apparently, he’d decided Paul wasn’t an immediate threat. “Letting Erica know everything’s settled down,” he said to Amber. “She’s worried.”

“Take a pic so she knows I’m okay,” Amber said, and struck a pose, her own coffee cup lifted in a toast, pasting on a big smile. “And then I’ll fix you some eggs because I know you’re always hungry. It’s the least I can do, calling you out in the middle of the night.”

That last was directed at Trey, and again, Paul felt shame. “Sorry to get you up, man,” he said.

Trey shrugged. “Goes with the territory.” He snapped a photo and went back to his phone, and Paul once again had to tear his eyes away from Amber. She was a character, all right: hair frizzing out wildly behind a colorful headband, tattoos up one arm and rings on most of her fingers. And those bright flowered tights that fit her so well.

It wasn’t just her clothes or hair, though. He remembered thinking her a little eccentric, in a good way, when she’d come to interview Wendy. Then, she’d worn a dress and some kind of jacket and boots, all professional.

But she’d gotten Wendy laughing more than he’d heard her laugh in months, and when he’d looked in on them, he’d seen that Amber had pulled off her wig of long hair and was showing it to Wendy. Her head had been completely bald, just as Wendy’s was.

Amber had beckoned him in and showed them both pictures of her variously styled wigs in all different colors, suggesting which would best suit Wendy.

Now Amber’s hair was chin length, and he had to assume that it was natural, since she was wearing it home alone in the middle of the night.

She pulled eggs and a loaf of bread out of the refrigerator and turned as if to ask them something. Then her eyes fell on Davey, now asleep. “Want me to put him to bed on the couch for a little bit?”

Paul didn’t want his son out of his sight. “He’s just as comfortable sleeping on Sarge. Do you have a blanket, though?”

She nodded and reached around him for an afghan lying across a kitchen chair. Before Paul could take it from her, she’d knelt and tucked it around Davey, as tenderly as any mother would.

Paul swallowed. Davey needed a mom. Maybe after Paul pulled himself together—if he ever did pull himself together—he’d try to meet someone. Another Wendy, sweet and steady and pure.

Amber rose gracefully to her feet and kind of danced over to the counter, set a frying pan heating with a chunk of butter in it and then broke eggs into a bowl with one hand.

“So, you two know each other?” Trey’s voice was friendly, but Paul