Page 35 of Wrapped Up in Christmas Hope
“Want some help?”
Morgan glanced up at Andrew and gave a wry smile. “You implying I don’t have enough muscle for the job?”
“I’d say you probably spend your work days lifting and assisting patients, and that would make this a piece of cake in comparison.”
True, but fortunately she’d never had to get any of her patients up off of the floor without assistance—or while they were sleeping.
“However, if you’re willing to let me,” he continued, “I’d be happy to carry Greyson out for you. He’s my buddy.”
That he was. All day, wherever Andrew had been, so had Greyson. Several times Morgan had encouraged him to come help her, but he’d not wanted to be far from his new best friend. Andrew had never seemed to mind, had repeatedly assured her that he was enjoying having Greyson as his sidekick, and had even taken Greyson outside to play Frisbee with Harry. More than once she’d caught Greyson glancing up at Andrew with complete adoration, had heard her son giggling at something just between them, and had even seen Andrew hoist Greyson up onto his shoulders and walk around the room with Greyson’s arms spread out as if he were flying a plane. They’d both had huge smiles on their faces.
That morning she’d worried her son would be bored at the sew-in. Instead, he’d had a great time. Because of the man who’d just knelt down beside her, looking at her with kindness and something more in his hazel eyes. She’d be eternally grateful for the impact his kindness was having on Greyson, but as for how he made her feel...
Oh, Andrew. She didn’t need him looking at her this way when she already felt so weak where he was concerned...not only because he knew how to bring Greyson out of his shell, but also because he made her want to smile and laugh, too.
“Thank you,” she said.
“No problem.” He took her appreciation as permission to scoop Greyson up as if he weighed nothing. “Come on, Little Man. It’s time to get you to your car.”
Greyson mumbled something, wrapped his arms around Andrew’s neck, his legs around his waist, and held on as if he worried someone was going to pry him away.
“I need to put his coat on him.”
Reluctantly and without opening his eyes, Greyson cooperated on pushing his arms into his jacket sleeves, immediately snuggling back against Andrew’s chest.
“Greyson, honey, I need to zip you. When I started the car, the wind had really picked up and had a cold bite to it.”
Greyson made a noise but this time, he didn’t loosen his hold around Andrew’s neck. Morgan hesitated. He’d probably be fine going out with his coat unzipped. Andrew’s body would partially shield him from the wind and the car wasn’t that far from the door.
“Grab my jacket and throw it over him.”
Morgan’s gaze cut to Andrew’s. Did he think she was being overly protective? She probably was, but she didn’t want Greyson getting cold.
“It’s over on that chair.” He gestured with his head to where his uniform jacket was draped over a chair back. “Put it over him and I’ll make sure he stays warm.”
“Thank you, but won’t you get cold?”
Andrew grinned. “If I say yes, will you offer to keep me warm?”
Morgan rolled her eyes. “No.”
“Then, I’ll admit that I’ll be fine. I’m hot-natured.”
“Seems like that would be problematic when fighting fires,” she said as she wrapped Andrew’s jacket over Greyson. With his little body plastered to Andrew’s, it covered him almost completely.
“The gear does get hot, but it’s a small price to pay for staying protected,” he said as they headed toward the door.
“Your grandmother told me you’ve always wanted to be a firefighter.”
“You talked about me with my grandma? I knew you wanted to be my friend, Morgan Morris. Did she tell you how amazing I am, or just offer to show you my baby pictures?”
Oh, heavens. That grin.
“Both, actually. It was right after you’d come to the school to talk to the kids and she asked if I met you,” she rushed out. Then her face flamed. Why had she said something so revealing to him? “We were talking about how excited Greyson was to meet the firefighters, and she asked if I’d met you, and she told me how Greyson reminded her of you and—”
“It’s okay, Morgan,” he assured her, his tone teasing. “You don’t have to explain why you were talking about me with my grandma. I don’t mind.”
“But we weren’t really talking about you,” she said. “We were talking about Greyson and him wanting to be a firefighter and then she said—”
