A Daddy By Christmas. Teri Wilson
took a tense inhalation and looked away from the dancing reindeer. “Never mind.”
“Never mind?” She threw her arms in the air. Jingle, jingle, jingle. “You can’t just ask someone to marry you and then take it back. This isn’t the season finale of The Bachelor.”
“I’ve never seen that show,” he said woodenly.
He couldn’t marry this woman. She watched garbage television. She was bubbly, brash and far too emotional. She was a bleeding heart who spent her free time visiting shelter dogs. Plus, she obviously despised him.
It would never work.
Unless...
He frowned.
Unless the fact that they were so clearly ill-suited for one another would be an advantage. He couldn’t marry anyone he actually found attractive. That would be a recipe for disaster. And he definitely wasn’t attracted to the reindeer.
He shouldn’t be attracted to her, anyway.
A surge of something that felt far too much like desire flowed through his veins. What the hell was wrong with him?
“I’m not going to marry you for a puppy,” she said hotly. She looked him up and down. “No matter how...nice...the two of you look together.”
She swallowed and averted her gaze, giving Anders an unobstructed view of the graceful curve of her neck.
Definitely a dancer, he thought. Her posture, coupled with the way she moved, was undeniably balletic. Beautiful, even in that silly costume.
“I thought you said I didn’t look like the Yorkie type,” he said.
Her cheeks went pink, but before she could respond the door swung open and a no-nonsense-looking woman wearing a T-shirt with Adopt, Don’t Shop printed across the front of it extended her hand.
“Hello, Miss Wilde. Mr. Kent. I’m the shelter manager.” She looked back and forth between them. “I understand there’s been a mistake.”
Anders nodded and glanced at Rudolph—whose actual name was Miss Wilde, apparently—and braced himself for the tirade that was sure to come. She hadn’t let the adoption counselor get a word in edgewise. Why would she hold her tongue now?
But she didn’t say a thing. Instead, she crossed her arms and stared daggers at him while the shelter manager reviewed their respective paperwork.
He’d dodged a bullet. There were countless single women in New York. He didn’t know what had possessed him to propose to this one.
Still, there was a sadness in her eyes that made him feel like his heart was being squeezed in a vise. Anders had seen enough sadness in recent days that it made him want to do something to take away that melancholy look in her eyes—something that was sure to make her smile.
“Here,” he said, holding the little dog toward her.
He had more than enough to worry about without adding alleged puppy thievery to the list. He’d simply have to find another dog for Lolly. It was sure to be easier than finding a wife.
“She’s yours.”
The tiny dog squirmed in Chloe’s arms as she watched the brooding man—her erstwhile fiancé—cross the length of the lobby and walk out the door in just three bold strides.
What just happened?
Wordlessly, she stared after him until the shelter manager cleared her throat.
“Well,” she said. “I guess that settles that. The dog is yours if you still want her.”
Chloe snapped back to the matter at hand. “I do. Definitely.”
Of course she still wanted the puppy. She was just having a hard time switching gears from being proposed to by a total stranger to once again thinking about the logistics of puppy ownership.
“That was weird, though, wasn’t it?” Chloe held the dog closer to her chest. The tiny animal smelled like shampoo and puppy breath, which was a comforting and welcome switch from the gritty aroma of Times Square. “Don’t you think so?”
“Um.” The shelter manager’s smile faded. “I really couldn’t say.”
“That’s right. You missed the crazy part.” The puppy started gnawing on Chloe’s thumb. Somewhere in her purse, she had a chew toy she’d purchased for a moment like this one, but she was too rattled to look for it. “He asked me to marry him.”
The shelter manager gave a little start. “Oh, I didn’t realize you and Mr. Kent knew each other.”
Kent.
So that was his name. It swirled through her thoughts like a snowflake until she found herself combining it with hers.
Chloe Kent.
Mrs. Chloe Kent.
Her face went hot. “We don’t. I’ve never seen him before in my life.”
“Oh.”
Chloe sneaked a glance at his paperwork, still sitting on the counter where he’d left it. “Anders Kent” was printed neatly in the name box.
“He just upped and asked me to marry him, and then he took it back.” Chloe huffed out a sigh.
Of course this would happen to her. The hits just kept on coming. Instead of getting a normal proposal from a normal man—her ex, Steven, for instance—she got one from a total crackpot who promptly changed his mind.
Except he hadn’t seemed like a crackpot. He actually seemed sort of charming, especially when he was holding the puppy. But come on, what handsome man didn’t seem charming with a cute dog in his arms?
“Not that I considered it for even a second. It seems exceedingly rude to withdraw a proposal, though. I’m just saying.” The puppy started to whine in her arms, so she bounced up and down a bit. Jingle, jingle, jingle. “Surely you agree.”
The shelter manager sighed. “Honestly, as long as the puppy goes to a good home, I don’t really care.”
“Right. Of course.” Why was she telling this woman about her almost-engagement to a perfect stranger?
More specifically, why couldn’t she let the stunning incident go? She shouldn’t be dwelling on it. It was a non-incident, as evidenced by the mysterious Anders Kent’s speedy retraction, followed by his hasty exit.
“Do you want the dog or not?” The exasperated woman slid a paper across the counter toward Chloe.
“Absolutely.” She scrawled her name on the designated line.
After all, she was here to adopt a puppy, not to get engaged.
Not now.
Not ever.
“Mr. Kent.” Edith Summers, Anders’s personal assistant, stood as he strode into the paneled entryway to his office. “We weren’t expecting you to come in today.”
Anders paused and nodded graciously at the older woman. He wasn’t typically one for small talk in the workplace, but he hadn’t seen Mrs. Summers since the funeral and her presence at that ghastly affair had been more comforting than he’d expected. Burying his brother and sister-in-law was by no means easy, but seeing his assistant sitting in the second pew, wearing her customary pearls and stoic, maternal expression, had made him feel a little less alone. A little less untethered.
“I changed my mind.” Anders smiled stiffly.
He should say something. He should thank her, or at the very minimum, acknowledge