commission for a while, because Brooks doesn’t want to disturb the new mom or her babies.”
“I can’t wait to see them,” Annie enthused. “But right now, I want to hear about the substitute Santa’s visit with the local scout troop so that I can report back to his more-sick-than-jolly brother.”
Bailey turned to Serena again. Truthfully, his gaze had hardly shifted away from her since they’d entered the dressing room. He’d thought it was because he was trying to figure out where they might have crossed paths before, but even with that question now answered, he found his attention riveted on her.
He waited for Serena to say that the substitute Santa had sucked and that the event had been a disaster—although maybe not in terms quite so blunt and harsh. At the very least, he anticipated her telling his sister-in-law that Bailey had screwed up and almost made a kid cry. And he couldn’t have disputed either of those points, because they were both true.
But Serena seemed content to let him respond to the inquiry, and he did so, only saying, “It was...an experience.”
His sister-in-law’s brows lifted. “I’m not sure how to interpret that.”
Bailey looked at Mrs. Claus again.
“Everything went well,” Serena assured her friend.
Annie exhaled, obviously relieved. “Of course, I knew the two of you would be able to pull it off.”
“If you were so confident, you wouldn’t have rushed over here to interrogate us,” he pointed out. “Although I suspect your concerns were really about Santa and not Mrs. Claus.”
“Well, you were the more reluctant substitute,” she told him. “Serena didn’t hesitate when I asked her to fill in.”
“I’m always happy to help a friend,” Serena said. “But now I should be on my way.”
“What’s your hurry?” Annie asked.
“I’m not in a hurry,” she denied. “It’s just that I left early this morning and...well, you know that Marvin doesn’t like it when I’m gone all day.”
She seemed a little embarrassed by this admission, or so he guessed by the way her gaze dropped away.
Bailey frowned, wondering about this Marvin and the nature of his relationship with Serena. Was he her husband? Boyfriend? How did he express his disapproval of her absence? Did he give her the cold shoulder when she got home? Or did he have a hot temper?
The possibility roused his ire. Lord knew he wasn’t without faults of his own and tried not to judge others by their shortcomings, but he had no tolerance for men who bullied women or children.
“You worry too much about Marvin,” Annie chided.
“You know I can’t stand it when he looks at me with those big sad eyes.”
“I know you let him use those big sad eyes to manipulate you,” Annie said. “You need to stand firm and let him know he’s not the boss of you.”
Bailey didn’t think his sister-in-law should be so quick to disregard her friend’s concerns. No one knew what went on behind closed doors of a relationship.
“Is Marvin your...husband?” Bailey asked Serena.
In response to his question, Annie snickered—inappropriately, he thought—and Serena’s cheeks flushed with color as she shook her head.
“No, he’s my, uh, bulldog.”
“Your bulldog,” he echoed.
She nodded, the color in her cheeks deepening.
Well, the big sad eyes comment made a lot more sense to him now. As the humor of the situation became apparent, he felt his own lips curve.
“He’s a rescue,” she explained. “And very...needy.”
“Only because you let him be,” Annie said. “Not to mention that you have a doggy door, so he can go in and out as required.”
“Well, yes,” Serena admitted. “But he still doesn’t like to be alone for too long.”
Which led Bailey to believe that there wasn’t anyone else at home—husband or boyfriend—to put the dog out or deal with his neediness.
Not that it mattered, because he wasn’t interested in any kind of romantic relationship with his sister-in-law’s friend and colleague.
Was he?
“I hope Danny is feeling a lot better before Tuesday,” Annie said as she picked up the bags containing the costumes.
The worry was evident in her friend’s voice, compelling Serena to ask, “What’s happening on Tuesday?”
“We’re supposed to play Santa and Mrs. Claus for a visit to the elementary school.”
Which gave Annie’s husband only two days to recuperate from whatever had laid him up.
“I’d be happy to fill in again,” Serena immediately offered.
“Oh, that would be wonderful,” Annie said. “And such a weight off my shoulders to not have to worry about finding a replacement at the last minute again. Thank you both so much.”
“Both?” Bailey echoed. “Wait! I never—”
But his sister-in-law didn’t pause long enough to allow him to voice any protest. “In that case, I’ll leave the costumes with you and just pop over to Daisy’s to pick up some soup for Danny. Fingers crossed, he’ll be able to keep it down.”
“—agreed to anything,” he continued.
Of course, Annie was already gone, leaving Serena and Bailey alone again.
She wasn’t surprised when he turned toward her, a deep furrow between his brows. “I never agreed to anything,” he said again.
“I know, but Annie probably couldn’t imagine you’d object to doing a favor for your brother,” she said reasonably.
“Another favor, you mean.”
“Was today really so horrible?”
“That’s not the point,” he said. “But you’re the type of person who’s always the first to volunteer for any task, aren’t you?”
She shrugged.
It was true that she hadn’t hesitated when Annie asked her to fill in as Mrs. Claus. Although she generally preferred the company of animals to people, she was always happy to help a friend. And when she’d acceded to the request, it had never occurred to her to ask or even wonder about the identity of the man playing Santa Claus.
But even if Annie had told her that it was Bailey Stockton, Serena wouldn’t have balked. Because how could she know that she’d have such an unexpected visceral reaction to her friend’s brother-in-law?
After all, this was hardly their first meeting. She’d seen him at the clinic—and even once or twice around town, at Crawford’s General Store or Daisy’s Donut Shop. He was an undeniably handsome man. Of course, as far as she could tell, all the Stocktons had been genetically blessed, but there was something about Bailey that set him apart.
Maybe it was the vulnerability she’d glimpsed in his eyes. It was the same look of a puppy who’d torn up the newspaper and only realized after the fact that he’d done something wrong. Not that she was really comparing Bailey Stockton to a puppy, but she could tell that Bailey had felt remorseful as soon as he’d agreed with Owen’s assessment that the holidays sucked.
Serena knew as well as anyone that Christmas wasn’t all gingerbread and jingle bells, but over the years, she’d learned to focus on happy memories and embrace the spirit of the season.
But now that she and Bailey were no longer surrounded by kids pumped up on sugar and excitement about