The Holiday List (The Script Club 4)

I stared at him for a long moment, absorbing his words.

Yes, my new neighbor was still the kind of handsome that made me dizzy. But he had disparate entanglements, a large empty house, and a desire to do many things well…on his schedule. And he was a professional football person—in some capacity. He was also a single father who loved his son. I could see pride in his eyes as he asked for “science” help so that he could focus on being the “fun” dad. Whatever that meant.

I couldn’t relate. At all. I didn’t understand sports or the concept of aspiring to be “fun.” My idea of amusement tended to be science oriented. That made sense…I was a scientist and an engineer. Period. And while that theoretically made me a nice “science guy” candidate for his son, I didn’t know the first thing about children.

“NASA-style youthful experiments,” I hummed. “Well, I don’t know any off the top of my head, but—”

“But you work for NASA, right?”

“Yes, my job is to reveal secrets of the universe—specifically Mars,” I replied proudly. “If I do say so myself, I’m darned good at it. However, that doesn’t qualify me to teach. I can be a little oblivious to life on Earth. The so-called popular aspects of society just don’t interest me as much. Not a selling point with youngsters.”

He gave a dismissive wave. “Linc isn’t like that. He thinks science is fun.”

It was fun, but I wasn’t here for that kind of fun. I was here to do a kindness of sorts that didn’t involve tutoring. That shouldn’t have been difficult. There were other kinds of fun…

The holidays were fun. Mr. McSwoony didn’t agree. He didn’t like Christmas and that, my friends, was just…weird. Who said that?

Ugh. It shouldn’t have mattered to me in the slightest. I knew before I rang his doorbell that we weren’t destined to be anything more than short-term neighbors. But I was curious about him. And this huge house. Even when his kid was here, there had to be rooms they never entered. It seemed so…lonely. Why didn’t he have a pet to keep him company?

Maybe he was allergic. Or maybe he didn’t like animals. If that was the case, I was better off not knowing. I could be cordial with someone who didn’t like tea. But not liking dogs and hating the holidays? That was asking too much.

Sure, I could probably learn something about him if I spent an hour with his son, but I knew as much about kids as I did football. Spreading holiday cheer or…maybe offering dinner was really my best offer. After all, he said he didn’t know how to cook.

“If you’d like, I can research family-friendly experiments online and drop them off when we discuss the holidays. I’ll bring you dinner too. Do you have any dietary restrictions?” I asked, opening the notepad on my cell.

“No, no. I don’t need food or holiday stuff. Just an hour of your time would be great.” He flashed a roguish grin as he plucked my phone from my hand and set it on the island, adding, “I can make it worth your while.”

“Worth my while,” I repeated in a breathy voice that would have mortified me if I’d been thinking clearly. He was so close, I could smell his cologne.

“Yes, I’d be happy to pay you and…”

I furrowed my brow in confusion. I should have stopped him to insist that wasn’t necessary, but his knee was brushing mine and he was talking again. Something about hourly fees…maybe.

My mind went on a mini vacation without my permission. I was warm all over. No kidding. Heat zinged through my veins like a pinball game on speed. He was too close, too handsome, too charming, too…big. I had to get out of here before I did something outlandish or—

“Abort mission,” I blurted, jumping to my feet.

“Huh?”

I gave an awkward laugh as I stepped aside. “Sorry, I have no experience whatsoever with children.”

“That’s okay. Linc is easy.”

That’s not what I heard.

I wisely swallowed that sentence and pasted a smile on my face. “I’m sure he is, but the last time I was around kids was when I was a kid myself. I don’t see that changing personally, and no one in my family—specifically, my sister—is in a hurry to add to the populace.”

He chuckled lightly. “Add to the populace. Isn’t that a line straight out of a Dickens novel? That might make you Scrooge.”

I gasped in horror. “I am no Scrooge, sir.”

“Who are you?”

The humor in his eyes was clear as day. I knew he was teasing me, but I had a hard time shifting gears.

“I’m a scientist,” I replied haughtily. “And my sister is a world-renowned botanist.”

Oh, boy. That sounded very geeky.

“A world-renowned botanist?” He rubbed his scruffy jaw thoughtfully. “I didn’t know that was a thing.”