Page 15 of A Surprise for the Holidays
Baby steps,the striker thought to himself. Outwardly, he shot his coach a cheeky grin and lifted the box a bit higher. “It’s December third, mate, and you still don’t have a tree. Figured I’d fix that for you.”
He told himself that AJ’s resulting groan was an act and that, secretly, the older man was thrilled.
“Bailey!” Ava’s voice interrupted anything critical AJ might have said as she came barrelling down the hallway and pushed her way past her dad. Her pretty blue eyes widened as they looked at the box and then she squealed and threw her arms around Bailey’s waist. “A Christmas tree! Now Santa will know where to leave my presents.” She pulled back and frowned a little, looking even more like her grumpy father when she adopted the expression of consternation. “But where will he put the puppy?”
“Puppy?” Bailey asked, while AJ simultaneously let out another groan.
This one sounded more pained than the last.
“Poppet, I already told you, Santa’s elves can’t make puppies.”
“But they’remagic,” she insisted. “And I asked Santa really nicely.”
“I’m just saying you shouldn’t get your hopes up. Santa also knows that you’re going to school next year, and that I work a lot, so nobody will be home to look after the puppy.”
Bailey almost thought AJ had gotten through to her with that logic, but then she turned on her heel and raced off in the direction of her bedroom, calling, “I’ll ask him for a kitten instead!” over her shoulder.
AJ glared at Bailey as he dissolved into laughter. “How the fuck do I get out of getting a fucking cat?”
“I dunno,” Bailey mused, trying to wrangle his amusement, “I think a cat’s a good compromise. They’re pretty self-sufficient animals.”
AJ stepped back and began leading the way through the house, leaving Bailey to close the door behind himself. Over his shoulder, he grumbled, “You going to deal with the litter tray?”
Though he knew it was just a throwaway complaint, Bailey’s stomach did a little flip at the idea of being considered part of the family to the point of having the chore of cleaning the kitty litter. For the briefest moment, he imagined that their playful argument was a domestic one between lovers. Co-parents, even.
He couldn’t deny how appealing that thought was.
In just a handful of weeks, he had not only fallen head over heels for his surly coach, but had gotten very attached to the man’s daughter, too. Having grown up in a big family full of kids, it felt right to him. He loved the chaos that kids brought, and the innocent way they explored the world. Having often been accused of being a big kid himself, he’d always known he wanted to have kids, and here he was being taunted by the fantasy of an instant family.
“If you get her a kitten, I’ll come over and change the litter,” he found himself offering seriously.
AJ startled, giving him a look that said he thought Bailey was crazy.
Maybe he was.
Not wanting to make things weird, Bailey rolled past the awkward moment.
“Here okay?” he asked as he stopped in the corner of the living room, then clarified, “For the tree?”
Resignation etched across his handsome, bearded face, AJ grunted.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Bailey chirped, setting the box down and then dropping onto the carpet to take the folded-up tree out. He clicked the three pieces of the base together, then stood up, slotting the pole which functioned as the tree’s trunk into the slot on top of the base.
“That thing is a sad excuse for a Christmas tree,” AJ observed, making no effort to assist Bailey as he began peeling back the branches and ‘fluffing’ them.
“Give it time,” Bailey told him, concentrating on his task. “It takes some effort to make it look full.”
Another grunt came from AJ’s direction. “What’s the power cable for?” His bare foot entered the periphery of Bailey’s vision, a hairy toe nudging the aforementioned cable.
Ignoring the completely inappropriate burst of arousal at the innocent flash of a part of his coach he rarely ever saw, Bailey snorted. “The tree lights up, gramps. See the fibre optic strings?” He gestured to one of the multiple thin, clear plastic lines spraying out next to the branch he was spreading. “The base sends the coloured lights—”
“I know how it works,” AJ cut him off grumpily. “Was a light-up tree really necessary?”
“The lights look pretty,” Bailey defended. “Bet you five bucks Ava goes nuts for them.”
“Ava ‘goes nuts’ over almost anything, especially if you’re involved. I’m not taking that bet.”
Another one of those surreal moments where the argument felt almost like domestic flirting stole Bailey’s breath away. He cleared his throat and forced a shrug. “So, you admit I’m right, then.”
