Caribou's Gift (4 page)

Given her recent experience with Malcolm, Crystal was still gun-shy. Or was it man-shy? Either way, getting involved, even if briefly or flirtatiously, with a man like Kyle—vain and thinking himself God’s gift to women—wasn’t healthy for her. Fun probably, exciting in the bedroom, but in the long run, any kind of dalliance would just hurt Crystal, and possibly Gigi.

When it came to dating and men, Crystal needed to pay more attention, to not let herself get caught up in the packaging and really examine what was inside a guy. In retrospect, she should have noted the signs with Malcolm, but as a single mom working two jobs trying to support her daughter—because of a deadbeat father who took off to parts unknown when he found out—she craved attention, someone to love her.

Malcolm saw her weakness and exploited it. He put on such a good act. Convinced her he loved her, told her they could be a family, that he’d take care of her.

He did. Just not in a way any woman would find healthy.

However, she’d escaped the prick. Her life with him belonged in the past. She now lived for the future, a future where Gigi and Crystal would come first.

They didn’t need no stinking man to complete them.

They didn’t need a good-looking guy with a brilliant white smile.

Or giant muscles.

Or an infectious laugh.

Time to snare her daughter back before Crystal made any other disturbing discoveries.
Such as whether or not he kisses with his eyes open or shut.

Off she marched, libido firmly leashed, pacing cougar caged in her mind.

Gigi noted her first and waved before palming Kyle’s cheeks and lisping, “My mama is coming.”

Well, at least she couldn’t accuse him of trying to use her daughter. Genuine surprise creased his face as he beheld her, the slack-jawed, eyes-wide-open type.

“Crystal is your mother?”

Blonde curls bobbed.

“Figures,” he muttered.

“Hey, little Houdini, where were you hiding this time?”

“In the stable.”

Where Crystal had just been but failed to note her own daughter’s presence. Some hunter/tracker she’d make.
Goodbye Mother of the Year award too.

She held out her arms, yet Gigi held back. What the hell?

Instead, Gigi hugged the big caribou and beamed. “Kyle found me.”

Kyle? They were already on a first-name basis. How nice. She reached for her daughter again. “Come on, Gigi. Time to go home and get some supper. You must be hungry.”

This time her daughter didn’t hesitate, practically throwing herself at Crystal. She caught the armful with a grunt and a stagger, an unsteady wobble steadied by a hand.

The simple touch shouldn’t have sent a jolt of awareness through her, but it did.

No. No. No. Not good. She stepped away from Kyle. “Thanks for finding her.”

“You’re welcome. She’s a great kid.”

Ha. Like she’d fall for his compliment. Using Gigi as a ploy to get in her good graces wouldn’t work. “The best, and in need of food before she turns into a scratching and spitting hellion. Bye.”

Not giving him a chance to reply, she strode away from him with Gigi on her hip, trying to ignore the fact her daughter peeked over her shoulder and waved.

Before they headed outside into the cold, she zipped Gigi’s jacket and pulled hats and mitts from her pockets, placing them snugly on her daughter’s hands and head.

Then, with Crystal holding Gigi firmly by the hand, they braved the chilly night but not dark, as the community center had lights strung at regular intervals in the parking lot.

Light did her little good though when her car refused to start. It chugged sluggishly, once, twice, three times before it died. Nothing. Zilch, not even a click.

Sitting in the frigid vehicle, she stared at the dash in annoyance. Stupid old piece of junk only started when it felt like it, which was getting less and less often.

It looked like they’d have to walk home, which in good weather was only about fifteen-twenty minutes, but in the sub-zero temperatures, lugging a tired and hungry little girl? Ugh. Taxis weren’t exactly common out here. She could probably go back inside, though, and score a ride from someone.

A tap on her window made her squeak.

A familiar visage peered at her. “Need a lift?” Kyle asked.

Pride or convenience?

Minutes later, they’d transferred, Gigi, her booster seat, and Crystal to Kyle’s truck. While the warm cabin sure beat an arctic walk, it also made her uncomfortably aware of him. His scent. His maleness. His wicked smile. His conversation with her daughter.

“So, sweetie, whatcha asking Santa for Christmas?”

“I want the Lego Friends Mall.”

Which at one hundred and thirty dollars wasn’t likely to happen. “Remember what I said, Santa can’t always get you exactly what you want.” With about fifty-six dollars saved, Crystal could get her daughter a smaller building set and a few items from the Dollar Store, but only if she managed to find a sitter for Gigi and hitch a ride to a bigger town over the next few days, else she’d have to make do with whatever their local shops had in stock.

“I know, Mama. Santa does his best,” said Gigi, with all the exasperation a child could manage who’d heard a speech one too many times. “I just hope he can find me without Rudolph to guide his sleigh.”

Crystal almost grinned as Kyle stiffened. Nothing like having the cutest little girl on earth inadvertently guilt a man.

It didn’t take long for them to reach their home. “This is the place,” Crystal announced, and Kyle pulled his truck against a snowbank by the curb.

Home sweet home. Not much, an apartment over a book store that she got rent free in return for working evenings a few nights a week. The owner, an old lady, was friends with the Alpha’s grandmother. Between that and the pittance she earned from Reid for managing the parade—which she personally called charity, but he called a business deduction—she was managing to stay afloat, but she’d need a steadier, better paying job if she wanted to get ahead.

“Thanks for the ride.” Crystal unbuckled Gigi before sliding out of the passenger side. Standing on the ground, she held out her arms and lowered her daughter before she turned to reach back in for the booster seat.

Kyle’s hand stayed hers. “Might as well leave it for the morning.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your
car’s broken, and you’ll need a ride. So what time am I picking you up?”

“We usually get there around nine a.m. but—”

“Nine? That’s practically the crack of dawn.”

“Dawn’s currently later than that.”

“Still. It’s early.”

“Then don’t come. We’ll manage fine on our own.”

“No, you won’t because I’ll be here. At nine.” He flashed her a smile as he leaned over to snag the passenger side door. She moved out of the way as he pulled it shut.

Only after he pulled away did she think to say, “Don’t bother.” But it was too late.

Too late for a few things, such as stopping the hero worship in a certain little girl’s eyes. “Isn’t Kyle great, Mama? He’s a knight.”

“Oh really?” She would have termed him more a rake.

“He’s going to save me from bad guys.”

If only he could, little one.
Especially pesky ones, she thought with irritation as her phone vibrated, again, against her hip. “Come on, munchkin, let’s feed you before you turn into a dragon he needs to slay.” To the sound of her daughter’s giggles, they went inside.

The next day Crystal didn’t hold out much hope that Kyle would show up at nine. She’d noticed him arriving at parade central a touch before noon the day before with the look of a man who’d recently rolled out of bed.

Alone or not?

None of her business. It didn’t stop her from wondering, though.

Just like she wondered why she couldn’t stop thinking of him, or noticing his every move. She could have sworn every hair on her body rose the moment he’d entered the stable yesterday. It was one thing to ignore him in a room full of people but almost impossible when alone.

So I’ll just make a point of avoiding alone-time with him.

She’d planned to start by getting ready early and avoiding his offer of a ride altogether.

The jerk ruined that plot by showing up at eight, bearing coffee and donuts.

No, not the donuts!

If Gigi was enamored of him before, he now had entered a god-like realm. As her daughter happily licked chocolate icing while watching
Treehouse
, Crystal eyed Kyle over her steaming cup of coffee—three sugars with cream. Just how she liked it.

“This isn’t going to work,” she said, going on the offensive.

“What won’t work?” was his innocent reply.

Innocent? Ha. “This. The coffee, donuts, you being so nice to Gigi.”

“First off, I like your daughter, and I liked her before I knew who her mother was. Second, well, I’m guilty of the second part. Once I knew where you lived, it wasn’t hard to figure out where you might go for coffee and to bargain that info out of Mario.” Mario being the fellow who owned and ran the only coffee shop in town.

“Bargain? What exactly did you promise him?”

“I’ve got to go over on Boxing Day and hook up his boy’s Xbox system that he’s getting for Christmas.”

She snickered. “I see Mario’s a busy fellow. In exchange for coffee and donuts twice a week, I give his mangy cat a bath.”

“That beast? You’re a brave woman.”

“Not really. One good snarl from me and he’s putty in my hands.”

“Putty, eh? I don’t know how soft you’d find me if you got your hands on me.” Nothing subtle about his innuendo or grin.

Flustered, because despite her pep talk to herself she was tempted by his charm, Crystal turned to more mundane matters, such as wiping sugar off Gigi’s hands and face then bundling her in to her outerwear.

As they drove to the community center, she noted a tow truck by her car.

“Oh no. What’s he doing?” she exclaimed.

“Pete’s taking it to his garage for a peek. Although, if you ask me, I think you should send it to the scrapyard. That car’s done its time.”

“I can’t afford a new one, just like I can’t afford someone to look at it,” she muttered, not without some embarrassment.

“Don’t worry about the cost. Pete owes me a few favors.”

“Favors you should keep. I can’t pay you back.”

“No one said you had to.”

No, but her pride had already accepted too much charity of late. “Why are you determined to help me?”

Gigi, with the simple eloquence of a child, had a quick response. “Because he’s a knight, and knights always help princesses in trouble.”

Not in Crystal’s world. But maybe the cycle would end with her daughter, who seemed to have found a champion in Kyle. Thing was, Crystal knew better than to expect anything for free. Ultimately, he’d expect something in return. Something she bet that would involve tongue and naked skin.

Dream on.

Once they reached the community center, she tried to ditch him with the excuse of bringing Gigi to the daycare area. However, her daughter resisted.

“I don’t wanna go.” A jutting lower lip completed her stubborn refusal.

“Mama’s got a few things to do, and then we can go home.” Crystal waited for the second half of their usual argument where she begged to stay with Crystal. A family therapist she’d spoken to had urged Crystal to encourage her daughter to spend time with others to foster independence. Whether Gigi liked it or not, spending time with other children was necessary. So Crystal prepared her rebuttal as her daughter opened her mouth.

“Wanna stay with Kyle.”

Rewind. Crystal stared at her daughter. That wasn’t part of their usual script.

“Who wants to hang with me?” Kyle asked.

Crystal jumped in before her daughter could. “No one. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do than have a little girl underfoot.”

“I could use an assistant.” Kyle crouched and brought himself eye level with Gigi. “What do you say? Want to assist me?”

She nodded eagerly, and Crystal found herself torn. It was a big step for her daughter to show a willingness to spend time with someone other than her mother. But, on the negative side, it was with Kyle. Need she really say more?

Shining green eyes met his, and a chubby hand slid into a large calloused one. Crystal sighed.

Battle lost.

“Let’s go spread some Christmas tech help, sidekick,” he announced as he swept a giggling Gigi in the air, flying her superman style—with whooshing sound effects.

Talk about playing dirty.

He really was pulling out all the stops in his quest to seduce Crystal. Just how much dirtier could he get? For some reason she couldn’t help imagining him stripping, revealing the bod he hid, and stepping into a shower to clean himself, of course, in preparation for the
really
dirty things next on the menu.

Thank goodness he wasn’t around to witness her shiver.

What an incredibly dangerous man. So deadly. The more Crystal watched him—wanted him, and yes, fantasized—the more she feared succumbing to his charm.

As for her guileless daughter? Alas, poor Gigi was a goner.

And who could blame her?

Crystal kept a close eye on them, as any mother would with an almost stranger—one with an ulterior motive—who hung around her child. It didn’t help her dilemma.

When Gigi accompanied Crystal, she did so with a painful shyness around people. If a cashier addressed her, she ducked behind her mother. She’d stare at her feet instead of replying. If someone spoke too loudly, especially a man, with eyes wide, lip trembling, she’d fly for the comfort of her mother’s arms.

Or did, until she wrapped Kyle around her itty-bitty baby finger.

The man, who it seemed was some sort of technical genius when it came to wiring, was in demand as he strolled around, Gigi perched on his shoulders, where, with the pointing of a finger, she directed his movements. When they hit a float in need of a hand, he’d put her daughter down.

It fascinated Crystal to see the quick trust Gigi placed in him. If someone frightened her, Gigi backed into Kyle, and he’d either hug her, whisper something, or place his hand on her shoulder or head, which for some reason eased the visible tension in her daughter.