His Christmas Bride. Dana Corbit

do you think I earned my professional degree? Bid on it on an Internet auction site?”

      When she whirled to look at him, Dylan had his arms crossed. Even with his chin tilted up that way, he looked…oddly appealing.

      “No. Not the Internet. But can you tell me what kind of shampoo wouldn’t sting a kid’s eyes or would give long hair like Kelly’s a nice shine?”

      At first he frowned, but finally he raised his hands in defeat. “Fine. You win.”

      With this part of their shopping complete, Dylan wheeled the cart out of the women’s department and hurried with apparent relief toward Health and Beauty. Jenna had to jog to keep up with his longer stride.

      “It wasn’t that much of a defeat, was it?” she asked when he finally slowed down in the toothpaste aisle. “What would you know about kids’ or women’s shampoo? Besides, you always hated to shop. You hated malls, too. Your mom used to bring clothes home for you to try on. She had to return the ones that didn’t fit.”

      “Guilty.” He picked up the most expensive tube of cinnamon-flavored toothpaste, but when she lifted her brow, he set it back on the shelf and gestured for her to select one. “But in my defense, malls are just consumer prisons where they pipe in music with subliminal shopping messages and where the lights are so bright they convince you that whatever you’re trying on looks good on you.”

      Jenna picked up a tube of toothpaste next to a sale sign and moved on to the toothbrush display. “Next you’re going to tell me about conspiracy theories and grassy knolls.”

      “A little before my time, don’t you think?”

      He had smiled at her comment. Finally. A success. She thought back to all the times he’d regaled her with stories from documentaries about the assassination of President John F. Kennedy or the sinking of the Titanic, realizing now that she’d only half listened. A better friend would have listened more closely as he spoke about his interests. Note to self, she thought.

      Jenna selected two adult toothbrushes on a two-for-one deal and picked two junior-size brushes for the boys. “I still don’t understand why you assigned us to the clothes committee when you hate clothes shopping.”

      Dylan pulled one of the toothbrushes from her hand and tapped her on the head with it. “Are you kidding? How could I not pick the shopping committee when I was working with the crowned queen of shopping? That would have been a waste of your talents.”

      Jenna laughed, and for a second, it seemed like old times between them as he grinned at her. She smiled in return, and they just stood there for a moment until Dylan seemed to catch himself. He quickly turned away.

      Jenna grabbed a container of dental floss and crossed it off on the list before moving on to the razors and shaving cream.

      “I bow to your expertise here.” She waved toward the merchandise. “Just watch your prices.”

      “At least I’m good for something here.” He pulled shaving cream, a reasonably priced razor and a pack of replacement blades off the shelf, even grabbing a set of disposable razors for Kelly.

      “Do these meet your specifications?”

      With all the items checked off on this first list, they went through the checkout line and headed to the car. If the others had accomplished as much as she and Dylan had, they were well on their way to a successful project.

      “Whew,” Dylan said as he pulled on his seat belt. “Now that was an ordeal.”

      Jenna didn’t say anything for a moment. He might think it had been challenging shopping with her, but if he thought that tomorrow she would agree to working separately on different portions of the project, then he had another think coming. They were making progress. She could feel it. And she wasn’t going to give up.

      “You know we’re not done, right?” she asked.

      Dylan looked at her with what she hoped was mock dread.

      “After we meet with the boys tomorrow to help them write their Santa’s lists, we’re headed to the mall for Christmas shopping. You better rest up if you thought today was tough.”

      Dylan groaned and leaned his head on the steering wheel. She reached over, laughing, and gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. He didn’t even stiffen at her touch.

      Yes, they’d definitely made progress.