The Christmas Date

“Tyler Nichols. The man who moved in next door. The man over here earlier. His name is Tyler Nichols.”

“Oh.” Nora paused so she didn’t appear too curious behind her cat-eye frames. “I wondered who was at your door. Didn’t think it was a service call. Service people don’t drive gas-guzzling Hummers or work this late. Did he tell you what he does for a living, dear? Is he a photojournalist as the rumormongers say?”

Patience was a virtue, Kate reminded herself and she counted to ten again. Having grown up around Nora, Kate had long ago learned to handle her, especially now that Kate was an adult. “As a matter of fact he did and he is.”

Nora’s gaze landed on the bucket of supplies. “I thought you cleaned on Saturdays.”

Busted. Kate’s shoulders slumped. Nora never missed anything. “I volunteered to help him out for a few minutes. The Dorhacks didn’t do any cleaning and the place is a mess.”

“Those Dorhack kids always were good-for-nothings. Poor Myra to have raised a brood like that. Not like you. You are always such a dear, especially volunteering the way you are. Sandra would be so proud.”

“Thank you,” Kate said as she somehow ushered Nora to the side door. But the maven wasn’t to be moved outside yet.

“Since he’s finally here, why I don’t go home and see what I’ve got in the freezer? I bet the poor man hasn’t had a home-cooked meal in ages. I believe I have a beef stew I can thaw out and feed him. Tell him I’ll be over after I get it heated.”

Kate admitted she was impressed. Nora had found a way to satisfy her curiosity and act as chaperone. She grabbed the cleaning supplies. “I’ll tell him. He’ll love a home-cooked meal, I’m sure.” Even if he didn’t, there would be no stopping it from arriving now.

“Don’t forget to lock up, even though you’re just going next door,” Nora advised as she moved out from under Kate’s carport. “Can’t be too safe, you know.”

“Yes, I know.” Kate put her bucket on the ground and turned the key in the lock as Nora bustled across the street.

“I take it that was Nora.”

Kate jumped and took a step backward. The key fell to the ground with a clink. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” Tyler’s grin was easy and charming, and Kate swallowed. Could his T-shirt be any tighter? The faded black CNN T-shirt molded to his chest and his blue jeans emphasized—Kate jolted. She did not need to be eyeing him there. “Let me just grab the supplies and retrieve my key.”

“I’ll carry them.” Tyler was already beside her, bending over into her space.

“Really, it’s okay.” As Kate leaned to grab the supplies, her fingers collided with Tyler’s. She wobbled as she straightened, clutching the bucket like a shield.

Tyler winked at her. “Let me be a chauvinist for a bit.” He reached forward, and Kate simply let him pry her fingers from the carryall. She grabbed her key as Tyler started toward his place.

Having been in the house before, Kate knew that the layout mirrored hers, with a living room, eat-in kitchen, two bedrooms and a bathroom. Tyler’s house also had a small addition off the kitchen—a ten-by-twelve room that could serve as a den.

“I’ve decided that I like it.” Tyler answered Kate’s unspoken question as he gave her a quick tour so she could assess the extent of the cleaning. The house wasn’t in as terrible shape as he’d depicted, but as nothing had been vacuumed or scrubbed down, there was a lot of cleaning required before it met habitable standards.

They returned to the kitchen. She noticed his cabinets had been replaced with a basic oak version. Still, they and the linoleum appeared at least five years old. “So you bought this place without seeing it?” she asked.

“My twin sister picked it out after my accountant told me I needed more tax deductions and a long-term investment. I guess I could have bought something bigger, but there’s no point. I’m always gone. I’ve heard this street has excellent resale value.”

“It does,” Kate said.

He opened the ancient refrigerator and pulled out a beer. “Want one?”

“No.” Kate watched as Tyler removed the metal cap, tipped up the brown bottle and took a long swallow. He licked his lips. “Haven’t had cold beer from my own fridge in a while. That’s good. Sure you don’t want one?”

“Yes.” Beer might muddle her head. Already, like a sense of déjà vu that she couldn’t place, she knew she’d now forgotten something important related to the beverage. Tyler moved closer and set the half-empty bottle on the counter. For some reason the man disturbed her equilibrium, and she rummaged through the cleaning supplies to maintain her composure.

“So you’re always traveling,” she said to keep awkward silence at bay.

“Always. I love it,” he said.

“Really? All of it?”

He shook his head. “No, of course not. It’s rough-and-tumble. For instance, showers are a luxury, and even having cold water is a blessing after you’ve been bathing with wet wipes for a few weeks. My job makes me appreciate long, hot showers, the kind you stand under until the hot water runs out.”

An image of Tyler in the shower popped into Kate’s head and she inhaled to clear her mind.

“But it’s worth it,” he continued as she tried to focus. “Ever since I took a photography class in high school, I’ve been hooked on telling stories through visuals. My parents bought me my first 35-millimeter camera, I went to college, interned with the local paper one summer and, to make a long story short, I got lucky and found my dream job, one that involves traveling just about everywhere. What do you do?”

Kate unloaded the cleaning supplies, deciding to stay only until Nora arrived. After all, it wasn’t as though she’d be needed. As she observed him standing in his kitchen, beer bottle loose between his fingers, tight jeans and all, one fact was crystal clear. Tyler’s life goals had literally fallen in his lap.

None of hers had, and her job paled in comparison. “I work for an attorney. I’m going to be a lawyer. Night school. I’ll graduate in the spring. Let’s get you started cleaning, because if you overheard Nora, then you know she’s bringing dinner over. And, if I know Nora, you’ll have a houseful of other neighbors following hard on her heels to give you the big once-over.”

“Then I hope I pass their inspection.” Tyler’s gaze held hers for a moment, and Kate felt a tiny unrest run through her. She glanced away. There was no doubt about it. He would definitely pass. Everything about this man was sexy, strong and powerful. He even smelled good, and his voice had that deep, husky quality that sent shivers down women’s spines. Like hers.

The matrons of Dogwood Lane were going to love him.

“They’ll be parading their granddaughters in front of your nose in no time,” Kate said as she attempted to shake off the effect he was having on her. “Be forewarned. They’re all hopelessly romantic matchmakers. Nora considers herself an expert. She and Frieda are legendary.”

Tyler’s chuckle washed over Kate. “You sound like they’ve been on your case.”

“All the time. They’re a regular love connection,” Kate admitted before adding hastily, “but I’m too busy with law school to date anyone.”

“Well, I’m too busy with work,” Tyler replied, grabbing the foaming spray cleaner she held out. Kate tossed a pair of yellow gloves at him and he caught them easily. “It’s all-consuming and my number-one priority. Not many women want to camp out in a war zone, and there’s no way I plan to settle down any time soon. Owning a house is almost too domestic for me. Especially cleaning it. You don’t know of a reliable housekeeping service around here, do you?”

“No,” Kate said. To her, a service would be a luxury, not a necessity.

“I’ll ask around tonight.” Tyler placed the gloves on the counter before shaking the aerosol can. He pressed the nozzle and foam sprayed all over the laminate countertop, the bubbles flowing over the edge onto the floor. “Darn. That didn’t work.”

“Haven’t you ever cleaned?” Kate asked, watching as he stopped the steady stream with a rag.

He appeared sheepish. “No. I’m never around. Ever since I graduated college, I’ve used a service. It’s a priority in my budget. If not, my place would never get clean. I like to arrive home and find everything pristine.”

Just another difference between them. Kate mopped her own floors and scrubbed her own toilet every Saturday morning.

“Here, let me do that.” Kate handed him a dust cloth and furniture polish. Their fingertips touched again and she pulled her hand to safety and pointed. “Why don’t you go dust off the furniture? That’s a no-brainer.”

His eyebrow arched. “Are you saying I have no brains?”

“In this area, yes,” Kate said. “You’re pretty pathetic.”

“You’re probably right,” Tyler said, laughing at her accurate assessment. “So from here on out, I’ll take my orders from you.”

The cheeky expression accompanying his words could thaw an iceberg, and his flirtatiousness did more than melt Kate. Longing, tingling, the sudden need for raw passion hit her. Men like Tyler Nichols were dangerous. They stole your heart and gave you nothing but lingering memories. That is, if you even got to that point at all. She had to get away from him. Kate gestured toward the living room. “Dust!”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tyler said and disappeared through the archway, leaving Kate alone to deal with her yearnings and wipe up the mess.