A Cinderella Story. Maureen Child

Me, too.”

      “Of course, now Holly wants a baby, too.”

      Deb gave her a sly look. “You could do something about that, you know.”

      “Right. Because I’m such a great single mom I should do it again.”

      “You are and it wouldn’t kill you,” Deb told her, “but I was thinking more along the lines of gorgeous hermit slash painter slash craftsman.”

      “Yeah, I don’t think so.” Of course, she immediately thought of that kiss and the tension that had been coiled in her middle all day. Briefly, her brain skipped to hazy images of her and Sam and Holly living in that big beautiful house together. With a couple more babies running around and a life filled with hot kisses, warm laughter and lots of love.

      But fantasies weren’t real life, and she’d learned long ago to concentrate on what was real. Otherwise, building dreams on boggy ground could crush your heart. Yes, she cared about Sam. But he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested beyond stoking whatever blaze was burning between them. And yet, she thought, brain still racing, he was so good with Holly. And Joy’s little girl was blossoming, having a man like Sam pay attention to her. Spend time with her.

      Okay, her mind warned sternly, dial it back now, Joy. No point in setting yourself up for that crush.

      “You say no, but your eyes are saying yum.” Deb filled a tray with apple pies no bigger than silver dollars, laying them all out on paper doilies that made them look like loosely wrapped presents.

      “Yum is easy—it’s what comes after that’s hard.”

      “Since when are you afraid of hard work?”

      “I’m not, but—” Not the same thing, she told herself, as working to make a living, to build a life. This was bringing a man out of the shadows, and what if once he was out he didn’t want her anyway? No, that way lay pain and misery, and why should she set herself up for that?

      “You’re alone, he’s alone, match made in heaven.”

      “Alone isn’t a good enough reason for anyone, Deb.” She stopped, snatched another brownie and asked, “When did this get to be about me instead of you?”

      “Since I hate seeing my best friend—a completely wonderful human being—all by herself.”

      “I’m not alone. I have Holly.”

      “And I love her, too, but it’s not the same and you know it.”

      Slumping, Joy leaned one hip against the counter and nibbled at her second brownie. “No, it’s not. And okay, fine—I’m...intrigued by Sam.”

      “Intrigued is good. Sex is better.”

      Sadly, she admitted, “I wouldn’t know.”

      “Yeah, that would be my point.”

      “It’s not that easy,” Joy said wistfully. Then she glanced out the window at the house across the yard where Holly and Lizzie were probably driving Sean Casey insane about now. “I mean, he’s—and I’m—”

      “Something happened.”

      Her gaze snapped to Deb’s. “Just a kiss.”

      “Yay. And?”

      “And,” Joy admitted, “then he got a little more involved and completely melted my underwear.”

      “Wow.” Deb gave a sigh and fluttered one hand over her heart.

      “Yeah. We were arguing and we were both furious and he kissed me and—” she slapped her hands together “—boom.”

      “Oh, boom is good.”

      “It’s great, but it doesn’t solve anything.”

      “Honey,” Deb asked with a shake of her head, “who cares?”

      Joy laughed. Honestly, Deb was really good for her. “Okay, I’m heading back to the house. Even when it’s this cold outside, I shouldn’t be leaving the groceries in the car this long.”

      “Fine, but I’m going to want to hear more about this ‘boom.’”

      “Yeah,” Joy said, “me, too. So are the girls still on for the sleepover?”

      “Are you kidding? Lizzie’s been planning this for days. Popcorn, princess movies and s’mores cooked over the fireplace.”

      Ordinarily, Holly would be too young for a sleepover, but Joy knew Deb was as crazy protective as she was. “Okay, then I’ll bring her to your house Saturday afternoon.”

      “Don’t forget to pray for me,” Deb said with a smile. “Two five-year-olds for a night filled with squeals...”

      “You bet.”

      “And take that box of brownies with you. Sweeten up your hermit and maybe there’ll be more ‘boom.’”

      “I don’t know about that, but I will definitely take the brownies.” When she left the warm kitchen, she paused on the back porch and tipped her face up to the gray sky. As she stood there, snow drifted lazily down and kissed her heated cheeks with ice.

      Maybe it would be enough to cool her off, she told herself, crossing the yard to Deb’s house to collect Holly and head home. But even as she thought it, Joy realized that nothing was going to cool her off as long as her mind was filled with thoughts of Sam.