She pushed him inside and quickly shut the hotel room door. He plucked one of the folded clean burp clothes from the side table, draped it over his shoulder and adjusted Hazel in his arms. Hazel buried her tear-stained face in his shoulder and quieted.
Molly added a silent thank-you. Without the piercing stab of Hazel’s cries, she could finally hear her own thoughts again. For one brief, impractical breath, Molly considered asking Drew to stay longer than five minutes. His baby-whisperer ways aside, she remembered he’d let her go. That had to matter.
“You know my friends, Dan and Brooke Sawyer, with the in-law apartment.” Drew moved around the suite, his body swaying from side to side, his hand rubbing Hazel’s back. “It’s available now.”
“That’s convenient.” She mimicked his tone from their rooftop conversation at the gala.
Slowly, with each step-sway, Hazel calmed. As for Drew, he remained in constant motion as if afraid to stop and possibly recharge Hazel’s crankiness.
“I need to apologize. I will apologize properly and sincerely for not keeping you as my counsel.” Drew’s voice lowered into a soothing murmur. Hazel sighed and pressed her cheek against his shoulder. “But please consider the apartment. It gets you out of this hotel room. Gives you some space.”
She needed space from Drew and his amazing baby-whispering ways. He wasn’t doing anything she hadn’t already done with Hazel. The same sway. Similar circles over Hazel’s back. He even added the occasional encouragement of, “Shhh. It’s all right.” And a, “There. There. I got you.”
Even Molly’s tension eased out of her. But Molly was used to doing everything for herself. She’d approached the role of single motherhood with the identical strategy and determination. She’d assumed only she could settle her daughter. Here Drew was, proving her wrong. And she felt...not anger, but relief.
And it scared her. Drew was not her partner. He wasn’t there to hold her and promise her everything would be okay. That Molly wanted to set her head on his shoulder had her retreating, one step, then two. “You could have texted to tell me that your friends’ perfect apartment is suddenly available.”
“But then I couldn’t have given you the teddy bear and amethyst air plant.” Drew pointed toward the bags at the door.
“An amethyst air plant.” Molly’s mouth dropped open.
“Baylee at the flower shop told me amethyst brings positive energy and balance.” He paused and cleared his throat as if reconsidering his explanation. “And the air plant needs very little care like those cactus plants you had all around your apartment at school.”
Her frustration dimmed as if she’d pressed mute. He remembered her apartment from college. Remembered she liked cactus plants. Hadn’t wanted to put her reputation at risk by letting her represent him. He was considerate and protective like a good friend should be.
But who was protecting Drew?
Molly stepped closer to Drew and peered at Hazel. Her blue eyes were open. No more tears dampened her former red cheeks. Finally. The poor thing had been crying since Molly had picked Hazel up from the Tiny Sweet Giggles Day Care. Not even their daily cable car ride had improved Hazel’s bad mood.
Nothing had worked until Drew had arrived.
A deep sigh escaped from Hazel. Molly picked up Hazel’s favorite llama blanket and arranged it around her daughter. Hazel was completely content. Drew’s manner had always reassured and bolstered Molly. If she stepped into his arms, would she discover her own kind of contentment too?
Wait. Contentment had never been a goal. The collapse of Molly’s relationship with her ex had taught her the consequences of complacency. Not a mistake she’d ever make twice. Molly retreated. “What’s really going on? You just show up unannounced with gifts and an apartment for no reason as if you’ve become Santa.”
“You make Santa sound bad.” The tease in his voice tipped one corner of his mouth up.
“You haven’t believed in Santa ever.” The same as Molly. She sorted the small pile of Hazel’s clothes she’d washed earlier at the laundromat, rather than lose herself in Drew’s half smile. The one that used to hook inside her and urge her closer and closer to him. Back then, she’d been a silly college student with a crush. “Remember that Thanksgiving we spent together on campus in undergrad when we shared our holiday horror stories growing up.” She sat in front of the coffee table and finished folding Hazel’s tops.
Drew’s grin expanded in stages as if the memory was coming back to him in pieces. “Your mom never signed any Christmas presents from Santa and she forbid you from taking a picture on Santa’s lap as a child.”
Molly’s smile widened from the inside out as more of their shared memory surfaced. “We went to the mall that Saturday after Thanksgiving. We stood in line with all those little kids for over an hour and took our own picture with Santa.”
Drew’s shoulders shook, but his laughter remained muffled. “My parents had decided to spend Thanksgiving on the open seas that year. A cruise without port stops.”
“And you told them you had to work over the holiday anyway” Molly added. “And had to miss the cruise.”
“Best decision ever and I did take on extra shifts.” More silent laughter escaped.
“You took on those extra shifts at the student center because of your guilt,” Molly said. “You never could lie well.”
“It was lucky for me, not so lucky for my family, remember?” Drew shifted Hazel carefully in his arms. “My parents ended up with some kind of food poisoning. I ended up with overtime pay, free meals from work and Santa pictures. And I haven’t been to a mall since.”
Last Christmas, Molly had patiently stood in line with Hazel at the shopping mall for the first time since her own Santa
