“Okay,” Tyler said, stuffing a bite of cereal in his mouth with one hand, and rolling a toy truck on the table with the other. She felt Jordan’s gaze on her. Finally, she looked at him.
“Would you like me to cook something for breakfast?”
“Absolutely not,” Jordan responded. “Sit down. I’ll cook.”
Isabella sat opposite Tyler at the table, staring out the large window behind him. She tried to focus on anything other than the awkwardness of being in Jordan Butler’s home while he cooked for her. Wow. She wanted to go back to her hotel room and hide under her covers. But she was here for Tyler.
And, as uncomfortable as she felt sitting here in the same clothes she’d worn yesterday, she was grateful to be in Colorado, with thousands of miles between her and Florida – and Phillip. She lowered her eyes, nervously playing with the corner of a napkin. Phillip Monroe was a pilot, based in Miami. She’d stayed in Florida for him – wasted years in that bad relationship. And all she’d come away with was the bitter wisdom to know better next time.
“Do you like omelets?” Jordan asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.
Isabella suppressed the familiar tears that came with her regret. “Oh – yes,” she replied, forcing a too-bright smile. Jordan regarded her, then nodded and went back to cooking. Refusing to waste another minute feeling sorry for herself, Isabella centered her thoughts on Tyler. He chewed his cereal and quietly pushed the metal truck along the designs in the tablecloth. He was an adorable boy, with dark hair and green eyes, just like his Uncle Jordan. The family resemblance was striking, and Isabella assumed Jordan’s brother must have looked very much like him.
“I was wondering…” Jordan pushed her breakfast in front of her, sitting next to her. “I’m on a tight schedule this morning – and I haven’t asked Emily to come by. Would you mind spending some time with Tyler today?”
“Well,” she started, touching her hair again. “I haven’t had a shower yet…”
“Of course, I’m sorry.” Isabella sensed the cool return of the emotionally distant man she’d met for the first time at the school. “You probably have your own plans for the day.”
“Well, no. I don’t, actually.” She looked over and noted Tyler was listening. “I’d love to spend the day with Tyler. If you wouldn’t mind driving us to my suite, I’ll freshen up and get my car. Maybe take Tyler to the mall. I haven’t had a chance to get out and about yet. And it’s Black Friday.” She winked at her student. “Maybe Tyler can help me find all the best holiday deals.”
“Would you like to go shopping with Miss Stevens today?” Jordan asked his nephew.
Tyler gave a short nod and a tiny smile. Isabella caught Jordan’s glance as she took a quick bite of her breakfast. Visibly swallowing, she said, “This is delicious. You’re a good cook, Jordan.”
Jordan shrugged, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. “I learned to do a lot of things on my own, out of necessity. My mother died when I was very young.” A look of dread touched his features, obviously remembering his nephew’s recent loss. Thankfully, Tyler was drinking the milk in his bowl, unaware of the adult conversation. Jordan cupped his hands over his plate and leaned his forehead into them. “Like I said…” he spoke softly “…I’m not used to this.”
Isabella reached out, touching his arm gently. Jordan’s gaze settled on her hand, so small in contrast to his muscular forearm. When he lifted his eyes to hers, there was an emotion in them that shot heat to her core. She pulled her hand back quickly, standing to take their dishes to the sink. Jordan stopped her with his words. “Why don’t you get your coat? I’ll take care of the dishes.”
***
Jordan stayed with Tyler in her apartment while Isabella quickly showered and threw on a pair of skinny jeans and an oversized white sweater, belted at the waist. She applied a light eye shadow and a touch of pink lip gloss, and blow-dried her hair straight. Jordan was seated on the edge of the bed with Tyler, watching a cartoon when she emerged from the bathroom. She saw the look of approval in his eyes, though he quickly stood and ruffled Tyler’s hair.
“Looks like I’m not needed anymore, buddy. I’m headed to work – have fun with Miss Stevens.”
Isabella met his gaze as she slipped on her boots. “Shall I bring him back here…?”
Jordan shook his head. “I’ll meet you at my house. Say, two o’clock?”
“Yes, that’s fine,” Isabella replied as he walked to the door.
“See you then.” He nodded and left.
Isabella used her GPS to navigate her way to the Park Meadows Mall. As she parked her car in an empty space, she absently noted how the sprawling structure looked like a giant-sized version of the Toy Shop on Reindeer Ridge. She led Tyler through the entrance into a colorful feast for the eyes. But, despite the festive decorations and the general air of excitement all around, Isabella had no success bringing Tyler out of a sudden bout of sadness. He withdrew, just like the day before Thanksgiving.
“What’s wrong, Tyler?” she asked gently.
They sat by the cozy fireplace in the center of the huge food court, watching an electric train go around the track beneath one of the many Christmas trees there. Isabella bought Tyler treats, but he barely took a bite or even spoke to her. After a moment, she sat back and sighed, assuming he wasn’t going to speak.
“Mommy brought me here last Christmas,” he said quietly. His surprising statement broke Isabella’s heart.
“That’s nice, Tyler,” she replied, treading softly. “Did your mommy take you to a special shop you’d like visit today?”
Tyler shook his head firmly. “She took me to see Santa…but he wasn’t the real one. Mommy told me it was okay – the real Santa knew what I wanted.” His chin trembled. Isabella sensed where this was leading, and she wanted to spare him the pain of his memories. But she assumed it was good to let him talk about it.
“He didn’t bring me what I wanted last Christmas,” Tyler continued. “But I wrote him a letter anyway, because you did, too.”
Isabella absorbed his words. Tyler believed Santa let him down last year. And this year, he’s asked for the impossible. She struggled for a solution as a new dread gripped her. She let her instincts guide her and asked, “What did you wish for last Christmas, Tyler?”
Tyler peeked at her, hesitating to trust her with such precious information. He kicked his foot up and down. Isabella reached over to smooth a lock of hair from his eyes and he stopped the nervous action.
“I wished for a dog,” he blurted. “But I didn’t tell Mommy, ’cause she would say no.”
Isabella felt a slight spark of hope. A dog was possible! Gently, she asked, “Why wouldn’t your mommy let you have a dog, Tyler?”
“Because they make her sick.” The words poured from him now. “I asked Santa for a magic dog that wouldn’t make her sneeze – but all he brought me was toys.” Tyler turned to Isabella and put his head against her shoulder. “I still want a dog,” he stated softly. “But I didn’t ask for one this year, ’cause then Mommy won’t come back.”
When Isabella and Tyler returned that afternoon, Jordan pulled into the driveway just moments behind them. As he unlocked the door, his eyes moved to Tyler’s sleepy face, then back to Isabella. She smiled guardedly but remained silent as she led Tyler to his room. “Are you gonna stay here again, Miss Stevens?” he asked sleepily as Isabella tucked him in for a nap.
“Not tonight, Tyler. But you’ll