“Where to begin?” Nick asked while tapping his chin.

Faith let out a laugh and popped him in the arm.  The man was pretending that it was hard to come up with something for him to tell.  Hell, maybe it was difficult for him to think of something.  Not everyone’s life was as difficult as hers.  “Name the first thing that crosses your mind.”

“I’m adopted.”

She gasped and narrowed her eyes at him.  “No lying, you look just like your mother.”

“Ouch,” he mumbled.  “Next time I see her, I’m going to have to tell her she looks like a very attractive younger male.”

“You know what I mean,” she said with a small laugh.  “Her eyes and hair are the same as yours.  There is no way that she is not your mother.”

“There is a way,” Nick promised her.  “My mother died in childbirth, and my father was never in the picture.”

“Wait a minute,” Faith mumbled, piecing together information in her mind.  “Your mother, your real mother, is sisters to the one you claim as your mother now?”

“She is my mother,” he said, but nodded in agreement.  “The mother you met today is actually my aunt, but I don’t view her that way.  The woman has been taking care of me since I was a baby.  She is, in every sense of the word, my mother.”

“Wow,” Faith mumbled, walking to the other side of the island to plop down in a stool next to him.  “It seems you have more secrets than I thought.  Anything else you want to hit me with?”

“It’s your turn,” he said, “but I will give you a free one.”

She pursed her lips in contemplation.  “What will it cost me?”

“Dress up as Mrs. Claus during the Christmas parade, and I’ll call it settled.”

Her eyes narrowed.  Why couldn’t he be normal and ask for something like a kiss?  Maybe, because the man was too good to be true.  He knew that if he asked for something like that, she would feel a little trapped, as if he were not giving her a choice, but with something that wasn’t emotional, something like dressing up like a female Santa, there was no emotion in it. 

Holding her hand out, for the second time that day, she shook hands with him, but this time, it was her turn to whisper, “Deal.”

His arm flung back quickly, and he sent her a small grin, letting her know that he knew she was trying to get him back for earlier.  “Here,” he said, sliding his cup towards her.  “Have some of your amazing cocoa, and listen to a little story I’m going to share.”

She leaned closer towards him, and his arm wrapped around her.  The stools were not the most comfortable seating arrangement, but with him next to her, she was perfect.  Her hands wrapped around the mug, heating them.  His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath and began his story.

“As a child, I knew that my mother had gone to heaven, they let me know that as soon as I was able to comprehend what it truly meant.  I loved my aunt and uncle though, and nothing would keep me from viewing them as my parents.  One day, at school, a kid was talking about how my mother left me because she couldn’t stand to look at me.”

“Nick,” she interrupted while glancing up at him, but he just tightened his grip on her for a second before loosening it.

“They were children, Faith.  They say things they don’t mean.  Now, as I was saying,” he glared down at her, and she let out a small laugh, lightening the mood.  “I went home that day, crying, telling my aunt how much my real mother hated me, how she had left me on my birthday because she couldn’t stand the way that I looked.  My aunt, she grabbed me and placed me on her lap.  Drying my tears, she smiled down at me and said, ‘Nick, have you wondered why every year, we put an angel on the top of our Christmas tree?’  I remember shaking my head at her.  ‘Because your mother asked me too.  She told me to make sure an angel was looking down on her little angel every year as he opened his presents, because the proudest day of her life was when she finally saw you.’  They were the last words my mother ever said.”

Faith felt tears run down her face, but she didn’t want him to see them.  “When is your birthday?” she whispered.

“December 25th,” he said, raising her chin with his hand. 

As her eyes widened, he began wiping the tears from her them.  “And you love Christmas?”

He nodded with a smile.  “Things happen for a reason, Faith, why blame a day for fate?”

“You’re right,” she mumbled.  “Why blame Christmas for the sadness in my life.”  Taking a deep breath, she stood from her stool.  Outside, the sun had already fallen, making it completely dark.

Nick let out a yawn, causing her to do the same.  “I think it’s time to hit the hay,” he mumbled.

She nodded. “Where do you want me?”

He wiggled his eyebrows at her, making her laugh, and the sadness from earlier completely dissipate.  “You can sleep in the guest room,” he said with a smile.  “Go down the hall I went into earlier, and it’s the first door on the right.”

“You’re not going to sleep?” she asked in confusion.

He shook his head.  “I have something I need to do first,” he told her, “but you go ahead.  I’ll wake you in the morning and get you back to your car.”  Giving her a light push in the direction of the guest room, he smiled at her. 

“Sweet dreams,” she mumbled as she walked off.

“Anything filled with you would have to be sweet!” he called out to her retreating back.

Letting out a laugh, she shook her head.  Never in her life had she laughed so much in one day.  She was beginning to like it, maybe a little too much.