A Mistletoe Kiss For The Single Dad

Except deep down he knew it wouldn’t change anything.

Work. Connor. Home.

Those were his driving forces now.

The only things that mattered.

Dinner with Belle, anything to do with Belle really, shouldn’t be on his radar.

Other than reopening the free clinic one last time. He owed that to Marlene, even if it would be about as much fun as a root canal.

“What can I get you folks to drink?” Pat asked, setting three glasses of water on the table.

Belle perused her choices, frowning. “Do you have anything organic?”

“Uh…we’ve got tea.”

“Is it green?”

“Brown, last time I checked.” Pat chuckled. “Unless it’s gone bad.”

“I’ll stick with water, thank you,” Belle said, her expression dour.

“Sure thing.” Pat jotted something on his little pad, then grinned. “So great to see you again, Belle. I’m so sorry about what happened to Marlene.”

“Thank you, Mr. Randall.”

“Please, call me Pat. We’re like family around here.”

She nodded, then went back to looking at her menu.

Nick cleared his throat. “Con and I will have sodas, Pat.”

“Cherry flavor in those?”

“Of course.” Nick winked at his son.

“Be right back.” Pat walked away, leaving them alone again.

Even beneath the diner’s fluorescent lights, Belle’s auburn hair still glowed like wildfire. A trait she and her aunt had shared. Her mom too, if Nick remembered right. Of course, he’d only been eight too when her parents had died in a car accident. The whole town had turned out for their funeral, as well. He pictured little Belle back then, sitting alone on Marlene’s porch, not crying, not scared, just sort of oddly stoic.

Kind of like she was now.

Belle leaned closer to him, close enough for him to catch a hint of scent—something fresh and floral with a hint of mint. “You don’t let him order his own food either? How controlling of you.”

“Remind me again when you became a parenting expert?” He clasped his hands on the table, all traces of tenderness toward Belle vanishing. Connor’s well-being was his top priority in life. Period. Amen. He’d promised Vicki he’d take care of their son and he intended to keep that vow. He changed subjects to safer territory. “How’s California?”

“Sunny.” Her phone continued buzzing like an angry bee.

“Can’t you just turn that thing off while we eat?” he asked her. “Don’t you have an answering service to field calls when you’re out of the office?”

“Yes.” Her green eyes flashed again with annoyance. “My boss is trying to reach me.”

“Here we are, folks.” Pat returned with their drinks. “What are we having for dinner?”

“Connor and I will split a burger and fries. Cheese, no onion. Medium-well.”

“Great.” Pat wrote down his order. “And for you, Belle?”

“I’ll have the house salad. No cheese or croutons. Dressing on the side. Fat-free Italian. Hold the bread stick too.”

“Or you could just bring her a cardboard box, Pat. It’ll be just as tasty,” Nick said.

The two men chuckled, and she gave them an impassive stare.

“While I always appreciate your culinary opinions, Nick, I’ll stick with what’s healthy.” She jammed her menu back into the holder and gave Pat a cool smile. “And could I have a lemon wedge for my water? Thank you.”

Pat left, shaking his head.

“Are your parents still in town?” Belle asked as she unbelted her expensive coat to reveal the equally expensive tailored suit beneath, all sharp lines and jagged edges. So different from the cute, geeky girl he’d fallen in love with back in high school. Gone were her soft heart and pretty curves, her lilting giggles as they’d dreamed about taking the medical world by storm, like all those TV doctors on their favorite shows.

Nope. Not going there.

He shoved away the pang of nostalgia welling inside him for the kids they’d once been—so young, so idealistic, so naive—and took a deep breath. The air filled with the smell of grease and the sizzle of frying meat.

What had happened between them in the past didn’t matter.

What mattered was the here and now.

“No. They moved to Florida right after Dad retired a few years back.”

He glanced across the diner at the Hernandez family, laughing and talking, and yearned to join their relaxed group. Juan and his family had moved to Bayside about a month after Nick and Connor. Juan had transferred to the auto plant nearby from a factory near Guaymas, Mexico. After a bit of a rocky start with learning the language and resettling in a new country, they’d become a beloved part of the community, with little Analia basically having the run of Bayside. Good thing too, since the auto plant had been closed now and Juan was out of work and couldn’t afford to move his family back to Mexico. The community had rallied around them, making sure they had food and clothes and enough money to survive on. Juan was also working construction to make ends meet while his wife tutored high-school kids in Spanish.

“Do you know them?” Belle asked, watching the Hernandez family, as well.

“I do. Their daughter is a patient of mine,” he said. “Why?”

“No reason.” She shrugged and fiddled with her napkin. “Crouzon’s?”

“Yep.”

“How old is she?”

“Con’s age.”

“She should be ready for the second phase of her surgery soon,” Belle said, all animosity between them gone as they discussed medicine. Funny how that worked.

“She is, but it’s expensive. Analia’s father lost his job and I’ve been working to get their case taken on pro bono by a colleague of mine in Detroit, but so far the paperwork is still tied up.” Nick sighed and sipped his cherry cola. “They’re doing the best they can. Analia’s happy.”

“Is she?” Belle glanced at the little girl again, then looked away. “Let’s get back to discussing the free clinic. It’s why we’re here.”

“The first thing we need to do is get into there and assess the state of things,” he said, forcing an ease he didn’t quite feel. “I’ll call my PA tonight and tell her the situation. See if she can handle the patient load tomorrow by herself until we can work out a schedule.”

“If repairs need to be made, we’ll have to hire someone. Might be hard to get the work done on such short notice.” Belle surveyed the interior of the diner as she spoke, and he tried to see it through her eyes. Far from the pristine interiors of Rodeo Drive, Pat’s looked like a thrift store had exploded—local knickknacks and memorabilia covering every square inch of wall space.

“Juan Hernandez might be able to help. He does good work.” He’d helped renovate the house Nick had bought after returning to Bayside. “I’ll ask him if he can stop in tomorrow and take a look.” Nick glanced at the calendar on the wall, donated courtesy of the local volunteer fire department. “If we get started in the morning, that gives us eight days until Christmas Eve.”

“Fine. But this is all still contingent on my boss granting me an extension on my bereavement leave.” She folded her hands atop the table, prim as a church lady on Sunday.

Pat set their plates down a few minutes later. “Dinner is served. Enjoy.”

Nick thanked him then divided the huge burger in two and put half on Con’s plate, along with half the fries, then reached for the ketchup and mustard, noticing Belle picking through her salad. “Are you going to eat your food or sort it to death?”

“I want to make sure there’s no cheese or croutons hidden in here.”

“You ordered it without and I’m sure Pat fixed it that way.”

She kept picking and he rolled his eyes.

Belle turned her attention to Connor instead. “What do you like to do for fun?”

His son swallowed a fry, ketchup smeared on his cheek. “I play hockey.”

“Really?” She gave Nick a surprised look. “So, you won’t let him cross the street or order for himself, but you let him go out on the ice and risk life and limb over a puck?”

“Hockey is a very safe sport,” Nick ground out, a muscle pulsating near his tense jaw. “The coach supervises the team at all times and takes every precaution to ensure the kids’ safety. Besides, I played when I was his age. It’s good exercise and the team-building skills he learns are essential for later in life.” He gave her arch stare, as if challenging her to contradict him. For reasons he didn’t want to contemplate, he wanted to get a rise out of her. Disrupt that cool exterior of hers and get her as riled up as he felt inside. “If you’re so concerned for my son’s well-being, Connor’s got his last game for the year the day before Christmas Eve in Manistee. Come with us and check it out.”

The moment the words left his mouth he wanted to take them back. Spending more time around Belle than what he’d already be doing to get the free clinic ready wasn’t a good idea.

Thankfully, she turned him down anyway. “I’m sure I’ll be busy preparing to reopen the clinic, but I appreciate the invitation.”

Nick exhaled slowly, feeling like he’d dodged a major bullet. He chewed his burger without tasting it, glancing over to find Connor fiddling with his tablet again. Normally he banned devices at the dinner table and was about to tell his son to stow the electronics away then hesitated.

Controlling. Belle’s description rubbed him wrong in all the worst place. He wasn’t controlling. He was doing the best he could here, dammit.

So, instead, he bit back the reprimand for Connor and swallowed it down with another swig of cherry soda. One night of web surfing during dinner wouldn’t hurt anything, right?

Belle continued nibbling her food like she was at some fancy society luncheon and not Bayside’s best greasy spoon. Nick wasn’t fooled by her pretension, though. She must’ve forgotten he’d seen her covered with mashed potatoes and dripping with cheesy macaroni after a particularly heinous food fight in the school cafeteria. Regardless of their years apart, he knew the real Belle—even if that girl now seemed buried deeper than his beloved Vicki and the future they’d planned. After Connor had been born, he’d dreamed of having more children, more family vacations, more time to just enjoy the life he and Vicki had built together. They’d not married for love, but over their time together their friendship had grown into something better—affection, support, loyalty, trust. Rare and valuable things these days. Vicki had been his go-to person for talking out his problems and sharing his victories. He’d even told her about Belle. In the big and the small ways, he and Vicki had been there for each other. Without her, he’d done his best to manage on his own, charging forward, putting one foot in front of the other each day, doing what had to be done.

Life had gone on. Different than he’d expected, but onward just the same.

“After I talk to my boss tonight, I’ll come up with a list of tasks for you to handle and a schedule so we can make sure nothing gets missed,” Belle said, jarring him back to the present.

Nick snorted and shook his head, focusing on his exhaustion and the grumpiness it caused, because if he didn’t, he’d be too vulnerable, too raw, and that was unacceptable. “Just like old times.”

“Excuse me?” Belle paused in midbite and gave him a fractious look.

“You were always bossing everyone around,” he said matter-of-factly, knowing he was pushing her buttons.

“I am not bossy.” She put down her fork, her movement stiff. “I simply try to show people better ways of doing things.”

“Sounds bossy to me.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

And just like that they were kids again, back in Marlene’s clinic, him teasing the pretty girl who’d always seemed way out of his league. Melancholy squeezed his heart again and he looked away. Dammit. He was tired, yes, but the funeral had really thrown him. He hated funerals. They always reminded him of Vicki.

They ate the rest of their meal in silence. Once they’d finished, he waited while Pat cleared their plates then tried his best to get back to normal, even though normal seemed a thousand miles away at present. “We get started in the morning, then?”

“Yes. Pending my boss’s approval.” She stood and slipped her coat on then belted it up. “I’ll meet you in front of the clinic in the morning at nine. If something changes, I’ll call you. I have your number.”

Nick swiped the check before she could, flashing what he hoped was a polite smile. “My treat, Belle. We’re partners now. You need a ride to your aunt’s place?”

“No. I got a rental at the airport in Lansing.” Belle lifted her chin and walked toward the exit, saying over her shoulder, “Thank you for dinner. Bye, Connor.”

Nick lingered after she left. “You want pie, Con?”

His son grinned. “With ice cream?”

“Of course.” Nick hailed Pat and ordered dessert while Analia wandered over to take the seat vacated by Belle.

“She’s pretty,” the little girl said, lisping due to dental issues. “What’s her name?”

“Christabelle Watson. She was Marlene’s niece. And she’s a doctor like me.”

“Wow.” Analia stared at the front door while Pat delivered dessert. “Are you friends?”

“We used to be.” Nick exhaled and rubbed a hand over his face, fatigue and grief threatening to overwhelm him once more. “I’m not so sure now.”

“Okay. Bye.” Analia said, ending the conversation abruptly, as eight-year-olds were prone to do, and headed back to her family’s table.

Nick turned back to find half the pie and ice cream already gone. As a growing kid, Connor could put away the food. Still, his son was healthy and strong and smart, and Nick said a silent prayer every night that things would stay that way. Being a doctor had good and bad sides. People joked about self-diagnosing themselves on the internet with every disease under the sun. Nick wasn’t that bad, but he did like to err on the side of caution when it came to Connor. He was only being a good parent.

Belle’s words looped back through his tired brain before he could stop them.

How controlling of you…

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. Yeah, maybe he had been a bit overbearing, but some days it was all he had. He just wanted to protect his child, since life could be so easily lost at any time.

After they’d finished their meal and he’d paid the bill, Nick stopped on their way out to check with Juan about working on the clinic. Luckily, the guy said he was between jobs and agreed to meet him in the morning. Then Nick and Connor walked back out into the cold night air, their breath frosting as they returned to his SUV parked behind the funeral home. He spotted Belle at the funeral home across the street, scraping the windshield of the compact car she’d rented while trying not to fall on her butt in those stilettos of hers, looking just as determined as he remembered.

He turned away and pulled out his phone to call his PA about taking over for the most part until after Christmas. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be a problem. Elise was always bugging him to give her a bigger role in the clinic anyway and she and her family were Jewish. Hanukkah had fallen early that year, so he felt optimistic she might help him out. The last thing he wanted to do was close during one of their busiest times of the year when the people of Bayside needed them most. The closest hospital was in Manistee, about an hour away, so anything he could treat here in town was faster and cheaper for everyone involved.

Regardless of what happened at his office, one thing was for sure.

The next two weeks would be mighty interesting.

CHAPTER TWO

BELLE PARKED IN the driveway of her aunt Marlene’s modest ranch-style home on Hancock Street and stumbled inside the foyer, her feet numb and her arm aching from toting her heavy wheeled suitcase behind her. At least the ride had given her some much-needed time to herself to recalibrate. Hard to believe after all this time that he still affected her like no other man.

It made no sense whatsoever.

She’d dated plenty of men in Beverly Hills—rich, gorgeous, successful, highly desirable men. Yet not one of them had seemed to hold a candle to Nick when it came to physical attraction. Maybe because he’d been her first.

First kiss, first boyfriend, first…everything.

And they said you never forgot your first…

No. She shook off those unwanted thoughts and slumped back against the closed door, listening to the lonesome sound of the wind howling as the snowstorm picked up outside and the reality of her situation crept into her bones. She was back in Bayside. She was unexpectedly partnered with Nick again. She was all alone because Aunt Marlene was gone.

Forever.

The tears she’d struggled to hold back since her arrival spilled forth as she toed off her pumps then walked into the living room, spotting all the reminders of the life she’d left behind. There was the lopsided ceramic mug she’d made for Aunt Marlene in sixth grade. And a picture of the two of them at Belle’s high-school graduation. On the wall in the hallway were photos of her aunt with her patients at various local events—the July Fourth band concert in the gazebo on the town green, the annual Christmas tree lighting ceremony.

There were pictures of Belle’s parents too on their wedding day. Aunt Marlene had been her mom’s maid of honor. Memories of her parents were blurry and soft in Belle’s mind, like watercolors. She remembered her mother making a birthday cake, her father teaching Belle how to fish for salmon in the Manistee River, their trip to Tahquamenon Falls State Park when Belle had thought the iron-rich falls were made of root beer.

Her heart ached and more tears fell. Her parents had both been doctors too. Family medicine. They’d always talked about Belle taking over their practice someday. Perhaps that was another reason she’d been so torn about choosing plastic surgery as her specialty in college. If she’d stayed with GP, it would have been another link to them, but fate had had other ideas—especially after her ill-fated trip to see Nick in college. Finding out about his engagement and his impending fatherhood had left her feeling untethered, powerless. She’d focused on the one area where she still felt like she had control—her career.

She gave a sad little ironic snort. Seemed Nick wasn’t the only one with control issues.

With the back of her hand, Belle swiped at her damp cheeks. God, she missed her family. Aunt Marlene had been so young, so vital, despite her age and heart condition. She’d always seemed immortal to Belle, even though rationally she’d known someday the end would come. She’d just never expected it to happen so fast.

If only I’d known…

She hadn’t, though, because Aunt Marlene had never told Belle how sick she was. That stubborn, independent streak ran in their family and had reared its ugly head again apparently. Aunt Marlene had always been the type to do for others, yet never let anyone help her in her time of need. She’d not wanted to be a bother to anyone, she’d always said.

Belle would’ve loved nothing more than to be bothered by her aunt just one more time.

Maybe it was being back home again after all this time, but Belle felt at a loose end and was reconsidering everything in her life. Her career, her relationships, her future. Funerals always seemed to bring out her introspective side and this one was worst of all.

When her parents had died, Belle had been a child and Aunt Marlene had made the choices for her. Now it all fell on Belle to pick up the pieces and decide how best to move forward.

Sniffling, she returned to the living room and sank down on the sofa to stare at the Christmas tree in the corner. Her aunt must have put it up before going into the hospital after Thanksgiving. Grief flooded her anew at all the memories of holidays past. The tree glowed with twinkling lights and tinsel and she finally let herself sob for all she’d lost and for the beloved aunt she’d never see again.

Pain and doubt scraped her raw inside. Sticking to her career plans had been a way of remaining close to her parents and Aunt Marlene over the years, even if she’d left Bayside and chosen a different field of practice. Her rational brain said they’d all want her to be happy, but the scared child still lurking inside her feared maybe she’d not done enough to fulfill their dreams for her. Maybe she’d not done enough to fulfill her dreams for herself.

A buzzing sound finally pulled her out of her tears and self-recriminations and back to reality. Dabbing her eyes with a tissue, Belle rushed to grab her bag from the foyer and pull out her cell phone to see an incoming video call from Dr. Reyes.

Doing her best to restore some semblance of order to her appearance, Belle tapped the screen. Dr. Reyes’s tanned, perfectly sculpted face appeared. His dark eyes narrowed as she forced a smile.

“Hello, sir,” Belle said, her voice still rough from crying.

“Dr. Watson, are you all right? You didn’t return any of my calls today.”

Belle took a deep breath, forcing her emotions down deep and switching to professional mode. “I’m fine. Thank you. Just tired.”

“My condolences again on the passing of your aunt. Were you close?”

“Yes.” She blinked hard against the unwanted sting of more tears. “She raised me after my parents died.”

“I’m sorry. There’s nothing more important than family.”

At least she had the presence of mind not to point out the oddness of Dr. Reyes’s statement, since he’d been married three times.

“What’s the name of the town where you’re staying?” he asked. “Seaport?”

“Bayside.”

“Ah. I come from in a small town myself in Brazil. Five hundred people.”

Belle steeled herself to declare the bad news. “There may be an issue with my return date, sir.”

“What?” Dr. Reyes frowned. “Why? The standard three days to mourn and take care of your aunt’s affairs should be more than sufficient, Dr. Watson. And what of the patient I’m seeing in your absence? The breast reconstruction?”

Belle winced. In all the stress of today she’d forgotten about poor Cassie Gordon. At just twenty, her young patient had already been through five previous procedures to correct what should’ve been a simple case of asymmetry. But now her case had become a nightmare of complications due the earlier botched surgeries by other physicians. The procedure had taken Belle three hours for what should have been forty-minute surgery. There’d been vast amounts of scar tissue to remove and internal suturing required to close things up properly. “Is Miss Gordon doing well?”

“For now.” Annoyance crept into Dr. Reyes’s tone. “Explain to me why you must stay.”

Belle cleared her suddenly constricted throat. “There’s more to do than I expected to settle my aunt’s estate and I’m the only family she had left. Plus, there was a stipulation.”

“A stipulation?”

“Yes. Her final wish was for us to reopen the free clinic on Christmas Eve before we liquidate the proceeds.”

“We?”

Images of Nick tonight at the diner flooded Belle’s mind once more before she shoved them aside. “I inherited half of my aunt’s estate, along with another person.”

Dr. Reyes frowned. “Splitting assets is a complicated business, but you went home to pay respects, not revive your aunt’s medical practice.”

“I know, sir.” Bristling under the censure in his tone, Belle raised her chin. “None of this was my intention, but things are a bit more complicated than I anticipated.” Her heart pinched as she remembered her aunt soldiering on through what must have been one of the most difficult times in her life on Belle’s behalf all those years ago. If her aunt could do it, then she could too. “The free clinic will reopen on Christmas Eve, then I’ll fly home on the holiday. I realize this is an inconvenience, but I’ll work double shifts, triple even, once I return. Whatever you need.”

“What I need, Dr. Watson, is to know your priorities are straight,” Dr. Reyes said, then sighed. “Fine. But I expect you to be back in California on Christmas, nine days from now. Not too much to ask, I think, after everything I’ve done for you in your career.”