Hottie for the Holidays (Three Steamy Holiday Rom Coms)

“I guess so,” I say with a smile.

But I don’t really believe in destiny or fate or holiday magic, at least not in that way. Of course, we can change the world for the better with love, and a little luck is always appreciated, but there’s nothing supernatural about Coop and I being thrown together twice.

It’s a little odd, but odd things happen all the time, especially in this city.

But when Lexi stops by the job site early the next evening—insisting she needs to have her picture taken with the Christmas toilet before I tear it out—and her face lights up with recognition the moment she spots Coop toting a load of books in his wheelbarrow, the hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

“Coop! Dude, what are you doing here?” Lexi runs across the room, lifting a hand for Coop to high five.

“I’m helping Maggie with cleanup,” he says, brow furrowing as he shoots me a spooked look over her shoulder. “And you’re here because—”

“Maggie’s my mom,” she says with a laugh. She turns to me, jabbing a thumb Coop’s way. “This is Baxter’s big brother, Mom. The one who’s helping us with our sound.”

“Oh, wow, that’s…” I trail off, blinking fast as my sleep-deprived brain puts together the pieces and informs me that I’m sleeping with my daughter’s crush’s older brother—that Lexi and I could conceivably be dating brothers if she succeeds in catching Baxter’s eye, and I consent to let her date a twenty-year-old man—and all my words disappear.

“Cool,” Lexi supplies with a meaningful eye roll meant to encourage me not to embarrass her. “It’s cool. Coop’s the best.”

“He really is,” I murmur before I realize how that must sound, and my cheeks go hot, inspiring what sounds like a snort of laughter from Coop.

I shift my gaze his way to find him grinning and can’t help but smile back.

Okay. So maybe there is such a thing as destiny.

And maybe I’m really glad it had me in its sights this holiday season.

“Here, you take the toilet pics,” Lexi says, handing Coop her phone and skipping across the room. “Mom always crops pictures in weird places.”

“I do not,” I say. “That’s just my artistic side coming out.”

Lexi rolls her eyes again as she crawls up to sit on the back of the toilet and props one booted foot on the creepy sink. “Right. But I want some not-artistic pics of this sweet toilet.” She reaches an arm my way, fluttering her fingers. “And I want my mama in the shot.”

I’m touched, but I can’t help hesitating. “Are you sure? I’m covered in dust and spiderwebs.”

“You’re beautiful,” Coop says, the sincerity in his voice making me shiver and images of all the lovely things he did to me last night—and this morning—dance through my head. “Get in there with your girl.”

Lexi smiles. “He’s right. Come on. We haven’t taken a holiday photo in years. And we need to make the most of this toilet before you rip it out.”

Laughing, I toss my cleaning rag on the ground and join her, posing in my crazy kitchen until Coop’s shot at least fifty pictures and Lexi’s decided she’s ready to tell the toilet goodbye.

“Good,” Coop says, guiding his now empty wheelbarrow across the room. “We get the sink and toilet out tonight, and we’ll save you guys money on the plumber tomorrow.”

“Cool,” Lexi says, pulling on a pair of gloves. “As long as it doesn’t take longer than an hour, I’m down. I’m starving. I need something other than cupcakes to eat before I go into sugar shock.”

“We can get pizza on the way home,” I say, glancing Coop’s way. “You can join us, Coop. If you’d like. My treat to say thank you for the amazing work. I never imagined we’d get it all emptied in eight hours.”

“Sounds great.” Coop says as he kneels beside the toilet, working at the rusted nuts holding it to the floor with his wrench.

“Excellent,” Lexi says, a sly note in her voice. “I’ve been trying to get you two nerds together for a while now.”

“Oh, yeah?” I ask, narrowing my gaze.

“Yeah,” she says with an unconvincing casual shrug. “You remind me of each other. Your energy or whatever. I thought you might hit it off. Be friends and stuff.”

“Definitely and stuff,” Coops says.

I nudge him with my knee, not certain I’m ready to go there with Lexi, but it’s too late. My whip-smart daughter is already glancing back and forth between us, putting together the pieces and bursting into delighted laughter. “Oh, my God! Awesome! Well, good job, you two. I guess my matchmaking work here is done.” She shucks her gloves. “In that case, I’m going to the movies with the band. There’s a Rolling Stones documentary at the indie theater.”

I start to remind her to be in by curfew, but she’s already lifting a hand and heading for the door, “By midnight. Got it. Save me some pizza if you have leftovers. Bye, Coop. Be nice to my mom, or I’ll spike your coffee with bleach, okay?”