“Good, because I think you’re becoming one of the daffy aunts.”

“Oh, I think I can be a fabulous daffy aunt!”

At the Christmas tree farm, they hurried through the rain to the shed to pick up Christina’s tree from a clerk in a dripping raincoat. Andy hefted the pine and gently installed it in the hatch of his car.

“Well done!” Christina said as they rushed to get in the car and out of the rain.

“I do a lot of things well,” Andy said, giving her a sideways grin.

Ignore him, her Inner Christina whispered. All her life she’d fallen for adorable summer guys who left for college or travel at the end of the summer. She didn’t need a botched romance at Christmas!

Andy carried the tree into her house. Christina placed the stand in front of the window, and together they got the tree firmly positioned.

“Thanks!” Christina said heartily.

They were standing very near to one another, of necessity. They both stepped back, heads cocked to the side, studying the tree to be sure it was straight.

“Looks good,” Andy said.

“It does.” Now that the tree was taken care of, Christina said, because it seemed the natural thing to do, “Would you like a drink? Some wine?”

“I would,” Andy replied, his voice soft.

For one long moment, Christina and Andy stood looking at each other, caught in a moment out of time, when marvelous and unexpected things happened. Christina wanted, very much, to kiss Andy, really kiss him, but the name Anastasiya floated through her mind like a banner on a television newscast.

“I’ll get the glasses,” Christina said. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“May I help?” Andy asked, keeping his gaze on her steadily, as if unwilling to let her move away.

“No, of course not, I’m only—” Suddenly she was flustered. Babbling. And she knew her cheeks had gone red. She wanted to jump the man!

She’d be lucky if she could make it to the kitchen without walking into a wall.

“I mean, would you prefer red wine or white? Or maybe coffee? Or tea?”

His smile was sweet. “Christina, I’d like a glass of wine. Red if you have it.”

She nodded and left the room. In the kitchen, she bent over the sink and splashed her face with cold water. This kind of undeniable magnetism had never happened to her before. It thrilled her. And terrified her.

She took down two wineglasses and filled them with pinot noir. By the time she returned to the living room, she was composed.

Andy was sitting on the sofa, a magazine in his hand. “Thanks,” he said, taking his glass.

Christina curled up in a chair across from him.

“It smells like Christmas in here,” she said. “Thanks so much for helping me with the tree.”

“You’re more than welcome.” Andy leaned forward.

Christina held her breath.