The Christmas Catch

fine!”
    Then they were off, gliding at lightning speed down the snowy white slope.
    “Whee!” Tyler shouted. “Whoohoo!”
    Christine laughed with giddy delight, feeling like a child again herself.
    “What do you think of Vermont?” John asked with a husky whisper.
    The truth was that she loved it. Loved it even more than she could have imagined.
    “It’s perfect,” she said with a happy sigh.
    John hugged them a little tighter and settled his chin on her shoulder.
    “I’m glad.”

Chapter Eight

    A week later, John pulled a blazing marshmallow from the fireplace. Blowing it out, he laid it on a graham cracker held by Christine and loaded with chocolate. She grinned, first at him and then at Tyler. “This will have to be your last,” she said to her son before handing him the squishy treat.
    The boy’s face was liberally dotted with sticky mess. “But, Mom!”
    “She’s right, you know,” John said, backing up Christine. “We wouldn’t want you getting a bellyache. Not so soon before Christmas.”
    Tyler eagerly dug into his s’more while Mason ate his—complete with paper plate, but minus the chocolate—in the corner. John took in the cheery scene, acknowledging he hadn’t had this much fun in months. Heck, maybe even in years. The afternoon spent outdoors with Christine and Tyler had been filled with happy hill rides and gleeful shouts. On the way back to the truck they’d had an impromptu snowball fight, and John had been mightily impressed by Christine’s strong throwing arm. She’d invited him over for lunch the next day to compensate for whipping his tail in the competition. The next few days were lost in a blur of chats over coffee and prolonged Lego games with Tyler.
    Now, here they were, all huddled up indoors beside a roaring fire and after a dinner of homemade stew. It’s like stepping into a greeting card, John thought, his eyes lingering on Christine. She was beautiful in the firelight and the more he was around her, the more he wanted to be with her. She was captivating and sincere, and she had a sense of humor he appreciated. They could talk about everything in the world or nothing at all, just sitting in companionable silence. She was just as much fun as Carlos to be around, though John was betting she was a better kisser. Not that he’d be comparing the two, it was just odd for John to consider that a person could appeal to him in a womanly way and also act like a best friend. John was longing to get more than friendly with Christine. During their few moments alone, he’d actually considered making a move, but he’d stopped himself, weighing the impact on Tyler.
    If things deepened between him and Christine, what would that mean? He clearly couldn’t lead her on by engaging in some casual fling, when the outcome might be devastating for them all. Christine was loving yet firm with Tyler, and naturally a very protective mom. She wouldn’t want to expose the boy to any fallout from a short-term affair any more than John would.
    “When does Santa come again?” Tyler asked, still munching.
    “Not until you’re fast asleep,” Christine answered.
    “Did you ask for something special?” John asked the boy.
    “Mommy says it’s best to let life surprise you.”
    “Does she now?”
    Christine blushed mightily under John’s appreciative perusal. She really was lovely that way. It seemed to embarrass her that any man might cast an admiring eye her way. John wasn’t sure how any guy in his right mind could stop himself.
    Christine stood, collecting cooking supplies. “Ty, you’d best head upstairs and wash up. It’s getting late and tomorrow is a big day.” She turned to John. “Will you excuse me a minute while I tuck him in?”
    “Maybe I should get going,” John said, standing as well.
    “No, don’t.” Her expression softened. “What I mean is, please stay. I won’t be but a minute.”
    “Well, all right. Just for a bit.”
    Tyler twisted his lips and surveyed them both.
    “Is John sleeping over?” he asked his mom.
    John felt heat scorch the back of his neck as Christine flushed red.
    “Oh no, honey,” she sputtered quickly. “That’s not what I meant.”
    Tyler stuck out his bottom lip. “Why can’t he sleep over? He can stay in my room.”
    John smiled kindly at the child. “Maybe some other time, little buddy. Okay?”
    “Promise?” Tyler asked, his face lighting up.
    “We’ll talk about it later,” Christine said firmly, herding him