As soon as he got a good fire started in the living room and Nick’s Santa suit spread out to dry, Teddy hurried upstairs to get out of his own costume. He pulled on some fresh wool socks, a pair of flannel pants, and a thick sweatshirt advertising the local junior college. He wished he had some clothes that would fit Nick, but the best he could do were some boxers he’d accidentally bought in the wrong size and the too-big robe his mom had given him two years ago. Oh, and socks. Thanks to Aurora and his mom, he never wanted for hats or socks. Nick had feet like boat oars, and damn, they’d felt good in Teddy’s hands, even cold. He grabbed the biggest-looking pair he could find and then hurried back downstairs to leave the pile by the bathroom door.
He called Charlie while he heated up the stew. As he’d suspected, Charlie wasn’t going to be able to pull Nick’s truck out until midmorning when the storm was likely to be done and the main roads plowed.
“You okay with this guy overnight?” Charlie was full of typical big brother concern. “Liza and I could probably make room…”
“I’m fine. He’s a sergeant major from Fort End. Seems like an upstanding guy. He’s probably got a list of commendations as long as my arm. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t pull the truck out himself by sheer force of will.”
Something in his tone must have revealed more than he wanted because Charlie laughed knowingly. “Don’t go getting a crush, Romeo. Remember, army people don’t stick around. Outsiders never do.”
Teddy groaned. Charlie was right. A crush would be stupid. And he knew full well that people didn’t stick around—Sean had been proof of that. But it was easy for Charlie to lecture. He, like their parents, had married his high school sweetheart, a local with roots as deep as the MacNally clan, had a decent start on his own hockey team with three little boys and one more on the way next year, and had moved directly from his attic bedroom to his house with Liza—no lonely nights for him.
After Teddy finished with Charlie, he placed the soup, cornbread and tea on trays to take to the living room, which was warmer now with a roaring fire. He didn’t have guests very often, so it made him happy to use the nice big soup mugs he’d purchased at a craft fair, arranging a spot for Nick close to the fire with blankets ready to supplement however his robe managed to fit.
Which as it turned out was well. Very well. Nick padded into living room, robe barely closing on his broad chest.
“You changed.” He frowned as he took in Teddy, eyes skimming up and down with a critical glint.
“I’m sorry. Was I supposed to stay in costume?” Teddy couldn’t help teasing. “I do own real clothes, you know.”
“One would hope,” Nick said dryly as he let Teddy lead him to the end of the couch closest to the fireplace. Teddy fluffed out the blue-and-white quilt his mother had made a few years back and spread it over Nick, who groused, “I’m not an invalid.”
“Actually, I’ve known plenty of people with disabilities with far sunnier dispositions than yours, Santa. And most of them know how to prepare for snow.” Teddy tweaked his shoulder before returning to his own tray at the other end of the couch.
“Point taken.” A red flush spread up Nick’s substantial neck. “Sorry. Just don’t like being helpless.”
“You’re not.” Teddy crumbled part of his cornbread over the top of his stew. “But seriously, you do need some better winter prep. Even your boots are thin. And that coat’s like nothing. You didn’t even have a space blanket in the truck? Flares?”
“I’ll do better,” Nick mumbled before blowing on the stew. “Don’t mean to impose.”
“Hey, I’m happy for the company,” Teddy reassured him. “I’d just hate having to find another backup Santa because this one froze to death for not knowing the area. But just watch, by next year, you’ll be as prepared as any native.”
Nick took a spoonful of stew and swallowed before answering. “Won’t be here next year, sorry.”
“Oh. Being moved to another base?” Teddy was hit with a brief pang, which was ridiculous. The military moved people all the time, and like Charlie said, people left. No surprise here.
“No. Retiring. Last day is December 22nd.”
“Retiring? You’re only fortyish right? Isn’t that a bit young?”
“Ish.” Nick’s tone stayed bland, mouth not curving into a smile. “Forty-six. And almost thirty years of service is positively ancient in military terms. I’ve done pretty much everything an enlisted person can do—pretty rare for us to stay on after getting our twenty years of service. I’m a dinosaur at twenty-eight years in. Most of my friends left at twenty, but I was set on making sergeant major, so I stayed in.”
“So what will you do? Go back to school? Civilian law enforcement? Some new dream to chase?” Teddy leaned forward, eager to hear Nick’s big plans.
“Too old to go back to school.” Nick waved a hand dismissively. “And no dreams. All I ever wanted was to be a cop. Joined the military police because we couldn’t afford college, and I liked the idea of being in the service and still being able to be a cop. Then I set my sights on advancing. Last goal was to make sergeant major, and I did that, so no complaints.”
Teddy liked listening to Nick talk, but he was a bit disheartened by how…defeated he sounded. Like he’d battled Father Time and time had won and now he had no choice but to move on. And that was damn sad. He said he had no complaints, but Teddy could read between the lines well enough to see that Nick didn’t want to retire.
“But you can still be a cop. I bet there’s not a law enforcement agency in the country that wouldn’t be happy to have you. Hell, you could even do FBI or Secret Service—”
“Slow down, Teddy.” Nick smiled, the first one Teddy had really seen from him, this one accompanied by a subtle head shake. But Teddy could take the censure—the smile was damn worth it. Broad with both cheek and chin dimples, it took Nick from “scary giant man” to “Hollywood action star” in a single upward slant of his lips. “You sure know how to dream big. And I’ve thought about civilian law enforcement. I’ve even got the degrees they all want, but in the end, I think I’m just too old a dog to learn new tricks.”
“That’s ridiculous. You could have a twenty-year career somewhere.” Teddy glared at him. “So what is your plan?”
“I’ve got a buddy down in Florida—fellow MP veteran—and he has a sweet little place on the ocean. He takes tourists out on day fishing trips. Figure I can follow his lead, make a little life for myself there, invest in his business.”
“Sounds nice.” Something about the vision Nick painted was so…empty. Lonely. Like a good life for any number of people, but not this born cop sitting next to Teddy, looking restless just at being tucked into a blanket by the fire. He was far from ready to be put out to pasture, so to speak. But it wasn’t in Teddy to argue with the life choices of others so he just nodded. Besides, Nick did perk up talking about fishing, seemed less sad than when he’d talked about retirement, and Teddy was in favor of anything that made his transition to civilian life easier.
“Food is good.” Nick nodded at his now empty bowl. “You tell your mom thanks for me.”
“She’ll be happy someone enjoyed her cooking—she always says she’s happiest when she’s got a packed table for dinner.” Teddy cleared their trays to the kitchen, then returned to regard Nick carefully. He was confounding and grumpy and far, far too appealing. And he was only in town for another month. It was now or never in terms of forging a friendship or anything else for that matter.
Nothing ventured, nothing lost.
“So what do you want to do now?” he asked Nick, coming to stand in front of him, reveling in the warm blast of the fire. “It’s a bit early for bed, but I’ve got all the various streaming services for the TV or a cupboard of board games or…”
“Or?” Nick looked up at him expectantly, taking the bait beautifully.
“Or, I sit on Santa’s lap and tell you exactly what I want under my tree this year.” Teddy didn’t wait for a response, straddling Nick’s blanket-covered lap in a fluid move. “I figure we can unwrap each other’s packages a little early. What do you say, Saint Nick?”